Okay. Drones. I don't get them. Does Amazon really send out little tiny planes to drop off packages at your front door? I just...seriously? Does this happen? Where do they come from? Who is directing these tiny planes? Do they run into hummingbirds? If so, who wins?
ARE DRONES REAL?
I think I may have read an article about them once and my brain immediately refused to let any of the actual information enter it. NO! It screamed. And then it put it's little gray brainy fingers in its little gray brainy ears and shouted LA-LA-LA-LA-LA! in its little gray brainy voice.
Okay. Speaking of articles. I finally read this one from the New Yorker by Michael Pollan entitled The Trip Treatment.
I am not surprised about THAT. What government would want a citizenry full of people who could see right through the fear-based, militarized, capitalistic culture we call ours? Who know, really and truly, that all is one and all which that means on the most basic and primal and true level. From the cellular to the universal. I found it interesting to read in the article that many people who take the drug in controlled circumstances do reach that conclusion- ALL IS ONE- just as I did in my very non-controlled experiments back in the seventies. Not only reach that conclusion but understand it and incorporate it into their very psyches.
Plus, Big Pharma can't make any bucks off this one because psilocybin has already been invented and in most cases, one or maybe two doses is all it takes to make the changes being sought.
All right. I'm not going to soap-box this one but I'm just going to say that it's a very fine article and that yes, I am overdue for booster shot, if you will. I will not be traveling to any of the venerated institutions where these studies are being done but will choose my time, place, and companion(s) carefully which is what we did back in the olden days all on our own.
Now. On to the next thing. The 40th Anniversary show of Saturday Night Live. How did I not know this was going to be on? Jesus Christ. I missed it. I am so pissed. I'm sure I can find the whole thing on the internet to watch somewhere but it's not going to be quite the same.
Shit, shit, shit.
Not only was Keith Richards on it but Bill Murray too!
Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!
And. Have you seen this?
Have I told you, President Obama, how much I love you lately?
You can watch the entire almost two-minute video HERE if you want. It's precious.
So that's about it. I've had a relaxing day where no one needed me and I didn't worry about getting shit done. I even took a nap with Maurice. Besides taking my walk and doing a little laundry and making Mr. Moon's snack bag and coffee drink for his trip down to Orlando, I just haven't done much. And I am fine with that. In fact, I am thrilled with that. I'm still having an uncomfortable level of anxiety although, as you can see, I can still laugh.
Thank all my lucky stars and totems and chickens and ducks and Celexa and probably the hallucinogens I took in my youth for that.
And love. "It's all about love," is another thing that people in the psilocybin experiment realized.
The Great British Bake Off is on tonight. I'll be watching it.
While eating my frozen spinach pizza with mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes.
If I can stay up that late.
What's keeping you alive and functioning? Any household tips? Decorating advice? Deep philosophical and cosmic words? Fashion tips?
Does aromatherapy actually work?
Love and kisses...Ms. Moon