Psilocybin
Legacy Name: Psilocybin

The flying trees not grounded by soil, the colourful beings that run past me, each telling me a little bit about myself that I never knew. The sky was an extensively tall ceiling that I always reached for. And I could have.

Those trees fell, those people stopped coming around. Why did they? their whispers, once soft, were now heard from the other room. They were yelling, screaming, about me. The crisp smoothness of my desk, my eyes were my ears, and my ears were my eyes. I heard their frowns, I saw their shouts. I tried to keep grounded, but i lost control. Nerves shot through from my feet to the top of my head. I felt dizzy.

They came in, one at a time. They were now yelling at me. The trees, they dragged their roots around the people, the blue one, the yellow, the green. Each little person, telling me parts of myself that I didn't want to know. My betrayal, my idiocy, my inability to connect with the world. I felt the words as they were thrown from their mouths, "Damn" "Junkie" "Proud piece of shit" They were all fashioned into shivs that tore through my brain, but left my heart the pathetic beating mass that it was.

The thing is, I am never wrong. I can betray those close to me but I will never be wrong. I took pride in that. I was amazing at what I did. But trees, they wrapped their roots around my neck, trying to pull me back down. I ripped them off, I had to, or else my brain couldn't heal, but my brain was oozing out too. my pathetic heart, still beating, it was making me lose blood. Stop the beating, I'm always right.

So I did. I threw the small beating corpuscle to the wind, and it flew away, leaving my brain, an oozing functional mess. Then it occurred to me, I could be both right, and wrong. I can be right and do wrong. I've always done wrong. All to protect the brain that was now failing me. And those trees, those trees fell but not into soil, they were rotting. It was my damn pride. Damn.

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