My first trip was a very low does to test the waters and I had a second one a few days later. This time Tommy my friend that visited me on the first trip decided to join me. I took two trips, supposedly 240 mics, but I think that was a bit exaggerated. We dropped at 10am in the morning and had a fun day, and while no ground breaking revelations, I was able to tap into some empathy for my house mates that had turned against me in a passive aggressive way.
I held the lease to a 5-bedroom-house and rented out the rooms, at a profit, which gave me a free room. As far as I could see it was a win-win for everyone, they got a great deal (they certainly didn’t want to move anywhere else) and I got free accommodation. But over time they started to think it was unfair; one sticking point was me not giving them enough say in when a new tenant moved in. It was costly for me to have a room empty and to get the other 3 together to interview potential house mates, only 20% of which actually took the room, was way too much effort, so I just made the best judgement call I could without consulting them. Without any commercial experience they looked at me like the proletariat looks at the bourgeoisie as taking advantage of them.
Like the bourgeoisie I just thought their ignorance failed to see the effort and creativity that had gone into me setting up such a situation. After two years the lease was coming to an end and I was ready to leave, I would have happily have stayed since it wasn’t costing me anything, but since my flatmates hardly talked to me in passive aggressive mutiny fashion, I thought fuck em, why do I want to help them? So I gave notice to the real estate agent and my house mates and the luke-warm relationships turned into an iciness. On the day we dropped the acid everyone had moved out but me and I had to pack the rest of the furniture the following day. Up until then I had just thought they were ignorant and ungrateful cunts, and for the most part I still do, but as the trip came on and I looked around at the half furnished house and played the memories of the past 2 years across my mind I felt an empathy for them that I hadn’t experienced before; whether they were right or wrong, entitled or not, what they wanted was a home, a very human desire, they wanted to feel they lived in a shared home where decisions and rights were equal.
On acid I could see and feel without the addiction to reason. I could feel their insecurity, frustration and powerlessness and I could feel empathy and love for them. Maybe for some people this is the normal way to feel, where they can put aside rationalisations to allow empathy, but for me it was such a foreign concept. On reflection, ie not tripping balls, I can see that my lack of empathy is not only lack of wiring but addiction to supressing it. The hardships I went though at the age of 3 years and 10 months when I lost my parents made me adapt in a way where empathy not only wasn’t allowed to develop, but had to be supressed for my emotional survival. The mind is a marvellous thing and got me through that time, but now at 42 retraining my brain to experience empathy for others, and ultimately myself will make me a much happier and fulfilled man.
Red Pill Recovery 