Schools been stressing me lately.
As I was walking from class, on a whim, I tried to see the world as if I were peaking on mushrooms. I imagined the boarders of buildings waving as if they were mirages. I pretended I could feel tree's talking, telling me how nice it is to be. I focused on how all solid objects are mostly empty space, how all solids are vibrations.
I looked up at the sky. Realized that blue cocoon is a illusion, that beyond it, the real ceiling is blackness. I realized that there is no ceiling. How we are one of a jumble of plants circulating around a star, which circles around a body of stronger mass, how that body of mass circles around another. I tried to picture a cosmic twist of infinite bodies of decreasing mass circling each other creating a universal dance beyond perception. Okay, they're not technically circles.
I looked at people. Only then did I become self-aware. I had walked most the length of campus stupidly staring at buildings, trees, and the sky. I didn't realize the expression on my face. Once I started looking at my fellow conscious flesh sacs, the psychedelic feeling would end. Our collective self-consciousness, false bravado, misplaced anger, stress ladened eyes, artificial smiles... litered their faces.
I had to look away.
The awe returned. I walked a few more minutes. Now I'm here writing. I want to help people.
The fact is, whether my observations be true or not, they are projections of my self unto these strangers. Those are qualities I see because I feel them too. I want to help people, but it starts with helping myself.
Writing helps.