It is a generally accepted principal that things are what they are by virtue of where they are in time and space.
She had somehow landed in what was to become her favorite section of time and space, which she lovingly referred to as the Honeycomb. Everything strong seemed to arrange itself in hexagrams here. Sacred geometry, carbon fiber, oracles, her own creative business model. Her work ethic over the course of this period was frenetic. She learned how to communicate better non-verbally. Suddenly vibes started to make sense to her. There was plenty of social hype surrounding bee preservation. There were an abnormal amount of bear gifs on her facebook timeline.
Somehow taking various drugs allows our minds to travel through time and space, hell our physical molecules travel through space for billions of miles in comparison to their size every day. But it’s not until we help our synapses move in tides and waves that we can begin to get hint of what’s going on.
Nitrous can do this for us. Somehow it aligns the vibrations of our molecules or synapses or who knows what and they all start moving as bigger and bigger waves until you’re flooded with ecstasy at the peaks of these unified multi-cellular oscillations. She found that this particular method of time travel brings a great deal of esoteric knowledge to light. She had been taken by this drug back to the most primordial of conditions, back in to where the only thing that exists is light and dark. The strangely joyous feeling of knowing they’re always right next to each other, watching them split off into the various colors, and when a session ended, dropping off into whatever color phase her mind was currently occupying. She remembers spending an inordinate amount of time in red. Her office walls and an abnormally large amount of red cars around her conspiring to make her feel like she was dying. Red being the least energetic of the colors, a slow wave, losing momentum day after day. Sometimes the cycles would deeply concern her, starting awake at night unable to tell where she was at first, but always the sickening feeling that she was trapped in a loop for eternity.
A few more trips and she realized it all keeps coming around. Somehow that thought brought just as much comfort as it did distress. That there were no hard edges to the universe that she had yet found, just fears and bad states of mind. She understood that things had to drop off one side, but that they would always come back around the other. What was this giant rolling creature? She had created new galaxies and giant cosmic explosions on nitrous. One of her proudest and most willful creations was the cat’s eye nebula. She wondered if she’d ever get to visit.
A side effect of nitrous induced spacetime travel is an ever increasing level of complexity. It seems that upon the return to the simplest forms of matter, light and dark, we build a new layer of complexity each go round. It remains patterned for this reason, and if one is playing close attention they can draw inferences about where they are on the continuum. That this area of space requires a name as complex as the Honeycomb versus our earlier demarcation of simply “red” should be telling about our current level of complexity, and perhaps need some additional explanation.
Her last trip began with MDMA and ended with a vigorous round of nitrous, two drugs with a very synergistic effect on each other and her overworked, pattern seeking brain. Their last few hits dropped them off in a wondrous trembling haze of yellows and blacks and when she was able to focus the delirious vibrations she realized there were honeybees in perfectly shot HD dancing around on the TV in front of them. Simultaneously she looked over at him and realized they were sharing the same thought. What a deliciously beelike thing to happen. The thought was surprisingly complex, something along the lines of “holy shit this buzzing music fits perfectly with this hive of bees and oh my everything is just a way of vibrating isn’t it? And wow did we both just have that thought? Are there other methods of communication out there beside language? Certainly if anyone could say it would be the bees…how perfect”.
The complexity of the current state often overwhelmed her. She wondered if things weren’t getting more complex, but maybe she’d hurt her brain with the anesthetic. What part of this brain is mine to hurt? she wondered, her molecules buzzing like a furious swarm.
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