I had forgotten about her.
Stay the fuck away from psychedelics.
600ug of LSD threw me into a delusion and I felt her. I was completely catatonic. A low oscillation, a warm breeze. I could feel her. The spirits fought over me. I lay suspended in space whispering her name for an hour. I believed I was on the edge of some unknown paradigm and she would manifest.
The trip moved sideways into hyperspace with such intensity there is no language to describe it. I thought I had died. All time was folding in on itself.
It ended with a seizure and 3 days curled up in bed absolutely terrified.
O Cracky! My Cracky! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where in the net my Cracky lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Cracky! my Cracky! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
O Cracky! dear Skyqueen!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Cracky does not answer, her lips are pale and still;
My Sykqueen does not feel my arm, she has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the place my Cracky lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
For all crackyfag who like films: I recommend you the psychoanalysis film '' The Pervert's Guide to Cinema '' An analysis of different movies about what happens when the ghostly component from which are made as thelibido and the dreams, is fulfilled. When this ghost is captured, the fantasy dies, becoming a nightmare. Forcing us to escape back to reality.
The man has the need to idealize the woman and therefore he kills her, because he denies her individuality.
The femme fatal is the woman who cannot be idealized, shes is also a nightmare.
What its behind of all this is the need of the man to posses the woman, to kill her in order to proyect his fantasies on her. The idealization as way to scape from reality.
But are the dreams for the weak who can't endure reality? Or is reality, for those who can't cope with dreams?