Something is rotten in the red, white, and blue. I think everyone can see it and sense it, but I think few respond. It’s like that in war. There are lots of cowards.
Don’t be a coward.
They have poisoned our water, food, and stripped us of vital and whole nutrients and medicines.
This isn’t some accident.
No, sir. No, ma’am. This is war. Make no mistake, they will come for your family, your job, your property, your livelihood.
No, I am not talking about the “drug dealers.” I am talking about your government. You know, then one your founding fathers warned you about.
Yes, we have it. I’m headed for the hills to live off the land and amass the safety materials / resources I need to prepare and be equipped for this war.
I don’t want a war. I want peace. I didn’t call it a war.
As it turns out, cannabis is not the only illegal drug beneficial for PTSD, Depression, Chronic Pain or other mental illnesses.
Psychedelics are my third category of exploration. The psychedelic experience is one that brings clarity and focus to a disorganized and chaotic soul. For me, it provides a chance to reflect on a level not attainable with mere effort or even cannabis. The summation of my several traumatic experiences, which started at an early age, and the dissemination of information courtesy of the free and open internet (courtesy of our nerds…they win), I have been and will further be exploring the possible pros and cons of hallucinogenic therapy.
I think about what it would be like if I was a soldier during Roman times, or even been one of the Revolutionaries. I am a descendant, so it’s something I think about. For example, Roman soldiers would have gained a sizable estate once released from duty. They had the ability to grow their own food, all sorts of natural medicines, and the ability to brew beer, make wine, host guests, and some even got involved in the Senate.
If only we brought these sorts of practices back.
Now, I can understand how some of you read this and imagine that I have something to benefit from all this.
It’s my sanity. My liberty. My freedom. My existence. It’s to know that they pains that I have suffered and will continue to suffer, be it chronic illness, betrayal, or other such harms, will not and have not been in vain. I am not asking you to have pity.
It’s a respect that I want to see granted to everyone, not just the ones that served. I’m just saying, “Let’s start there.”
We can turn this ship. It’s not too late to express your compassionate for the suffering in a tangible way. Support the troops. Support the sick. Support humanity.
End the drug war.
Long Live Sacred [America]!