Black Book entry № 1

The psychedelic experience exposes the mind to the absurdity of reality.  Since the mind is responsible for perceiving and constructing reality, this experience exposes the absurdity of both inner and outer world: the raw sensory data of the world we find our self in, and the idea framework we use to scaffold and interpret this data.  Psychedelics have blessed me with a new kind of curiosity, but I see that it has served to delude me, and confuse me.  I conclude that the lysergamide is not a tool for fundamentally understanding the nature of my reality or the nervous machine which builds it, and that no science can be created from the outcomes of these experiences.  Its blast radius is finite, the only lasting artifact being a self-seeking morbid curiosity.

The Author Isn't the Narrator

There is an "I", there is a me.  It is the body hunched over this book, the thoughts governing the pen, the history which provides content to write and the feelings that offer motivation to do it.  These things can be pointed to, reasoned about, and have distinct boundaries and relations to-with one another.  Yet there is another "I".  It is an inner one, not expressed here.  It's the "I" that I think when I pause the pen and consider what to write next.  It is this "I" that I believe to be illusory.  It refers to no specific entity, and broadly refers to the summation of all my current thoughts + feelings, as well as my current inner & environmental contexts.  This "I" changes from moment to next, day by day and even instant by instant.  There is NO actual subject which can be attached to this pronoun, it is not identical to my total being, and isn't reflective of who I am irl.  It's just a useful pronoun to gather all my present awareness, and refer to it all in a lump.  It's a placeholder, an artifact of self-awareness but not identical to my actual, real self, the Seth that exists in this world.

Afterward

I'm decreasingly liking the way this is worded.  I understand my point intuitively now, but it sounds psychotic and even dangerous when put on paper.  The point of this distinction is re-association, and a stronger sense of identity by separating and creating a known boundary between the instantaneous self and the Seth that lives my life and deals with my bullshit.  Ah hell, maybe this is a dissociative/psychotic identity break.  Or maybe it's something so deeply intuitive, explanations just do it a disservice.