In my teens and 20's I went through my experimental drug phase. Nothing good came out of it. I couldn't hold a pencil, or focus, and every sentence I typed was nonsensical to the steady mind, especially the following morning.
If the nerves in your body are willingly disconnected from their intentional design, how can you logically explain emotions, feelings, cause and effect?
Without logic, it's madness and chaos. Which I believe was the end result of Leary's studies and career. Leary never bothered to argue his drug state of mind with a sober one. Others did it for him and he objected strongly, and irrationally, confused, illogically, egotistically, like a drug addict. "How dare you question me!"
Im sober when I write, draw, and create. Always. The next morning I might have a secondary thought contrary to the previous and make a note of it. The construct makings of philosophy.
All the great philosophers still being quoted today (Gandhi, Plato, even His Holiness the Dalai Lama) while they may have a heightened understanding of human architecture, they don't live in this world. Our world. This world of superficial ownership, and disconnect.
A few years ago...
T and I were at Ralph's (grocery store) one afternoon, standing in line. All the lines were long that day. I forgot something. I left T in line with our cart and went down an isle in the store. When I came back, T was yelling at a few people in line ahead of us. Apparently the woman getting her groceries scanned, ended up being a few dollars short. The woman was desperately trying to decide what items on the conveyer belt she could momentarily do without, but most of the items were diapers, baby formula, baby wipes, food, etc. And rather than helping the woman by just giving her the money, the people in line ahead of T started making annoyed comments like, "C'mon already!" And "I have to be somewhere!" T gave the woman the money, and then called the people in line ahead of us a few "choice" names, just as I returned to the line.
"These assholes! Getting rude with this woman. She's got baby formula and diapers, kids at home! It's not like she's scamming anyone. She was $3 short. Big deal. Give her the money!"
And even if she was scamming, let's just say for sake of argument there's a huge demand for black-market diapers...
Why not just give the woman the money? If not for kindness, than as momentary ambassadors of peace management at the Ralph's grocery store.
I believe violent thoughts are trained. There are alternative ways of thinking besides alcohol and narcotics. Perhaps we've just forgotten.
I get pissed off. Attitudes. Blatant disregard of others. Me. Me. Me. I'm special. I'm someone. Look at me.
But instead these people fussed over their importance, like they were standing in line to get into a Vegas nightclub. "Don't you know who I am!"
I don't blame guns, or the gun makers. I blame the people who pull the triggers.
Where are they coming from? How did they get to this breaking point?
Even IF they were on drugs, how did they get to THAT point?
What bothered me more than the fact those people rather complain than help, is that those people were our age, mine and T's.
Not rich. Not poor. We had a little money.
What's that saying...
A little goes a long ways.
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