I’ve started writing this a few times now and every single line sounded cliché asf.

I’ll try a different approach.

Imagine this: One day, by pure chance, you find this unique and awesome drug. It feels really good, better than any chemistry you’ve ever tasted. But it is a reality altering drug, and it is addictive.

Imagine it can make you fly; you feel connected yet free. It’s like waking up from a lifelong coma; the first time experiencing texture. But it’s a drug you’ve seen people use before, and it always makes them look silly.

Imagine it can unlock the door to that room you never could, and always wanted to enter. But this room, like any unknown place, could be filled with just your projections.

In any case, even if the room is empty, there’s still a new room for you to make your own. You can put a yellow couch in it, if that’s your thing.

I wonder why I’m doing this, why I want to write this. Is it because I want to understand? What am I hoping to get out of it? Am I doing this to give or get some security? Am I trying to explain myself?

Sometimes I really just don’t know.

Maybe some things aren’t meant to be analysed. Maybe some experiences aren’t predictable patterns I can easily control. Maybe some people can become important, even indispensable.

Sounds absurd, but wouldn’t it be nice if someone could teach me how to feel like a human?

I wouldn’t even know how to act in this exclusive society, and I’m not sure I could tell the negative from the new and scary apart. Am I able to let myself feel? How much do I dare to want? What do I even want? What do I have to offer?

Sometimes even an empty room can feel overwhelming.

Of course I mostly don’t do drugs, and you kids shouldn’t either. I was just being metaphorical.

I think I’m starting to figure things out. I’m starting to believe that this analogue state I’ve always longed for, isn’t even a state; it’s not spiritual, reachable through prayer, wishful thinking. Psilocybin might not quite do it either.

It’s not a holy place, a heavenly sign, and for sure not what those weird romantics have been spreading around for centuries. It’s not an exclusive club; you don’t need to be on a list to get in.

It’s a person.