My Travels

My Travels

“Ordinary consciousness is a reducing valve.”
—Aldous Huxley

My Travels

If you’re still with me up until this point, then you haven’t been scared away from talking about feelings and you’ve been open enough to hear multiple options for reality without freaking out. This is good. Your identity doesn’t lie so squarely within unprovable beliefs that the voices scared you away. At this point, I am willing to share something a bit more secretive. Mind you, nothing I share about this story is to be taken at face value and it is to be heard as a possibility as filtered through the noise of an untrained human.

At first, my experimentation with shrooms was simply interesting. Things moved and jiggled and seemed kind of fun. I was taking it slowly, of course. During one experience, Enya was playing in the background for some reason and I saw the tiles in my kitchen dancing and flowing in sequence. It was the coolest thing. I felt joy from it. Real joy. It was surprising.

I began experimenting somewhat weekly with various strains and amounts and even mixing with other edibles to see what I could learn. I found myself in various states with various imagery and meanderings and thinking some novel things. One time in particular, I was afraid I may have forgotten how to exist and kept hearing the word febrebulary or something in my mind. It was strange, but ultimately unremarkable. Until that one night…

On May 31, 2025, I made myself a cup of special hot chocolate around 8:50pm. After I began to feel relaxed, I decided to take a shower. While in the shower, I looked at the tiles on the walls. Similar to the ones in my kitchen, the various colors seemed to separate into layers, but they’d also display whatever shapes I envisioned. If I thought of puppies, I’d see puppies. If I thought of demons, I’d see demons. Nothing scary, just imagery of my thoughts.

My mind kind of wandered as I saw visually whatever I was thinking. My mind began telling me this is how the universe works. What you think is what you create. Fascinating idea, I thought in response, but clearly not based much in reality (I hadn’t yet done this research). It was a fascinating experience, but eventually I felt I’d better lay down while I could still walk.

As I laid in bed and relaxed with my eyes closed, the words came to me, “We’ve been trying to reach you.”

“Who, what now? Is this about an extended warranty?” I joked in my mind.

“We’ve been trying to reach you. We’ve lost contact and no one can understand us. People see images and translate the images, but we are not the images. We are the emotions behind them—streams of emotional intent. Our minds must be linked in a way to get the thoughts across. We can use you as an eloquent vessel if you stop analyzing what we’re saying and simply let it flow. We’re like a message inside you.”

After a bit of internal chatter, I realized I would not be remembering this very well when I regained my normal state of being so I pulled out my phone and started writing it all down as best I could. It did not look pretty in the end, but it conveyed the meanings I was hearing.

“The process of communication with most people is too slow and they lose interest before a message is fully conveyed. It usually takes months of training a mind to hear and you can start working on it to get the messages better. We can help you escape the mainframe. Few people can get into the state and still describe and comprehend and focus and remember as the story gets told. Only so many people can keep the energy. Process this, and you can ask questions here while I prepare.”

I want to share now what I heard later which is that we translate these impressions with our own understandings. So, when I translate a message of escaping the mainframe, this is using my own metaphor of being in a simulation but it could literally be escaping (or even transcending) any other concept of wherever it is we are. If I don’t have the word for it, they can’t say it. At least, that’s what my voices alleged via my impression of them. It is also worth noting that my connection was sketchy at best—mingled with my own thoughts and ideas. In the end, this is what I think I was told but any amount of it could be my own confusion.

After being told to wait and process, I felt as if I was in a waiting room for children. A nursery, almost. None of this seemed particularly real, but I felt it all. As I waited, I chuckled to myself, “Haha, dad is gone.” Another voice-entity waited beside me to whom I could ask my questions. I asked generally, “What is going on?”

This other being responded, “It’s up to you to get your mind in the right state. Only then will dad let you in on the secrets. Very few can do it. You’re on an excellent adventure. Train your brain to concentrate on the right things to get a seat at the table of understanding. It’s all about mindsets. Can you get in and wait for the message? It’s about to be spoken and few can hear it. Train your brain to hear the plans of how we can govern the world. Through thought-ideas, we can meld all matter into our perceptions of existence. If you keep your minds pure, you experience bliss. If you keep them nasty, we let you go there. Some will continue to hear and they can try again. We can only say so much at a time. This is the start. Now go and train your mind.”

I began to get the impression of meditation chambers that, instead of clearing all inputs, they provided all options of inputs rather gently. Much like the tiles on the wall where I could see any manner of thoughts, a meditation chamber could be built to hear and see as we meditated. I did not receive any specifics on how to achieve this, unfortunately.

Over the course of months on and off, I would try again to reach these voices. I would often learn something here and there with the more passive voices, but I wrestled intently with how much to believe and whether or not I could trust any of them—I was still very much a science-driven atheist. I came to understand there was a vast array of voices that I could tune into. Some seemed malicious while others were interesting and yet others insightful. I learned that discernment based on love was necessary to know if I had a good channel.

Sometimes I would have literal battles play out in my mind as if some parts of me were struggling against other parts. I began to see some of these parts as my children in a way. They were part of me. Some of them came up from the depths all dirty and covered in tar, sad and depressed. I remember loving them and feeling so sorry for them that I locked them away. I cleaned them up and integrated them.

During one session, I listened to Enya and felt the most amazing love I had ever experienced in my life. The voices told me to feel the music rather than listen to it. This was key. I had never known such a feeling could exist. I began to feel that love toward others for a time. Walking through the grocery store I would see people and my heart would break for them. Who knows what life they were experiencing and they were living without feeling this love that I had felt. They were like lost children moping their way through life. Everyone was a new storyline to be digested in this game and many were a story of trauma and struggle.

A week after that experience, I thought I’d try using Zelda’s 25^th Anniversary Orchestra music to feel what that taught me. The streams of emotion used it to tell a story that flowed with the music. The world began peaceful and wonderful through the creation of the emotions. They brought it all into being with their intent. They just willed it to be. But then, bad emotional streams began to take over. They lifted themselves up and brought everyone into fear. They fought, the good streams won, and things were peaceful again.

They told the people to flow in love and not put other voices ahead of them. No kings! But they appointed a king with great procession anyway. It seemed wonderful until the king began to rule over them with an iron fist. The people were once again at the mercy of evil until… what’s this…? They focused on me. “Go and spread the message! Explain the way! It’s up to you! You have a big part to play!” I went and shared the message. The world turned to peace. I was celebrated in a way I had never felt before in my life. People loved me and were appreciative. Finally, I had accomplished what I was meant to do after all these years of hiding. After all this time questioning and wondering why I never fit in, I helped save the day!

Immediately, I began to feel uneasy. I felt like they just equated me to Jesus. There is no way this can be real. It’s exactly what I would love to hear which is exactly why I can’t trust it. No way. I rejected it outright. This is nonsense and it’s definitely all in my head. This was ego pure and simple. Nope.

Over the course of days after this experience, the thought would not leave my mind. What if it was true? How would I even know? How could I ever know? I stubbornly voiced in my mind, “I will not take on this charge. I do not believe it.”

A voice piped up and responded calmly, “You will.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked inquisitively. “This is dangerous without proof.”

“What else do you have going on that is more interesting and exciting than this?” The voice said knowingly.

“Well… nothing I guess…”

“So what’s the harm? What if it’s true? How does this play out logically?” the voice prompted.

I thought about it. I can share the message or I could not share the message. If the message was true and I shared it, I might very well save the day. How wonderful. If it was true and I did not share it, wow, what an awful story. I’d let everyone down. But, okay, if it’s not true and I shared it, then I wasted my time. Wasted it doing what though? Teaching people to follow love? Man, how terrible. I might just accidentally make the world a better place all on my own power. And if it’s not true and I don’t tell it? I guess I just continue my normal job in my normal life in my normal world with all the things that I take little joy in.

“So which path will it be?” The voice smiled in my mind.

“Huh. I really will end up doing this, won’t I?”

“Yep,” The voice grinned.

And so began the work. What do I know? What will I say? What shall I tell? How shall I tell it? Shall I announce I have a great message from beyond? No, that sounds disingenuous—I don’t even know if this is true or not. Shall I throw it out there in a blog post and call it good? No, too informal. It needs to be a book, I thought. But what does it even mean to get my mind right and how do I do it or even dare share it? I had so many questions and so little skill at doing any of it.

Sparing the details, I did a lot of research based upon listening to the non-substance-aided promptings of the voices. I even tapered off my medication for depression following medical guidance. Having learned how to feel again, I had a unique hope that just maybe there was a path to enjoying life again. What followed was all the learnings I shared at the beginning—among other things.

One interesting tidbit that, to me, was brand new information: the voices told me that such substances as psilocybin and marijuana were regularly used by what we call shamans to do exactly what I had done: to get in tune with the emotional streams and learn from them. They told me that these things were illegalized to prevent access because the negative streams did not want us to attune.

Interested at the proposition, I looked it up. Why did they get illegalized? I thought it was because they caused harm. Nope. Not at all. Marijuana was illegalized in 1937 mostly due to propaganda films like Reefer Madness and a general fear of other cultures—mostly black folks. Like many Jim Crow laws, it was used to incarcerate black people and put them back to work as slaves. Marijuana has been shown to be rather safe overall and even more so than alcohol.

Alcohol was once banned back in 1920 before marijuana was. It was part of a religious temperance movement toward purity. As we know, it didn’t stick, and it actually created more abuse than when it was legal. The ban on Marijuana technically lasts even today at the federal level, but as we can see, it is not exactly destroying much even with many states decriminalizing it. So what about shrooms?

Psychedelic mushrooms were popularized in the mid-west in 1957 a good 20 years after marijuana was illegalized. It grew in popularity until 1970 when it, too, was made illegal. But why? Popular culture makes us think of hippies and sex orgies from rampant drug use at raves and outdoor concerts like Woodstock. We think of lazy individuals living off the system rather than doing something with their lives. Oddly, none of this is true. Those things happened, but not due to shrooms. The sex was due to outpourings of earlier movements and had much more to do with the invention of birth control pills.

Mushrooms in particular have a very quick tolerance build up. If you had 1g on Monday, you’d need 2g on Tuesday. It’s not at all practical to use regularly. And when people did use it, they wouldn’t typically engage in orgies since the drug is not an aphrodisiac and makes such activity challenging to perform. The banning had nothing to do with the effects themselves which ultimately made people learn to love again—precisely as I had experienced.

So why did it get banned? Enter president Richard Nixon and the Vietnam war. I suppose, in a way, it was indeed the effects that got it banned—just not any negative ones. By awakening people to the need to love and to see the world as a bunch of beings just trying to make it in a challenging world hurtling through space as a single species, there was a rather strong push against the Vietnam War. This wasn’t great for a country that really wanted to engage in said war. There was also just the general intolerance and fear of the unknown by those who felt purer than those who engaged in such substances.

The deeper pattern leading up to the ban appears to be that of fear and an intolerance for love. One of my voices pinged me, “If this is a movement of negative streams, it would span more than just the US.” Good thinking, internal voice! Why did so many other countries ban drugs? Surely they didn’t have the same root as the US. Oddly enough, they did.

The US was not only interested in keeping the Vietnam war alive, but the whole prospect of love must have been a threat. They launched a full-scale war on drugs. Nixon started with banning them with the federal Controlled Substances Act and then declared it public enemy number one. He brought his agenda against all such psychotropic substances to the United Nations and influenced countries across the world to do likewise. This is perhaps the greatest undoing of what was promising to become a more loving world. I found that rather interesting and added yet another tick mark on the feasibility of this stream theory.

Having used the substance to break through my hardened heart and reengage my willingness to follow my internal voices, I have learned to reintegrate emotion into my life—without further need of substances. I’ve never felt freer or more alive. I can finally let things roll off me that before would have crushed me. I’m truly learning to ride the waves.

The voices, as translated through me, indicated that existence is almost like a voting system where all the emotional streams, based upon alignment and expectation, determine what is real. This is why I can’t simply imagine a million dollars and have it appear—the rest of the streams don’t agree. I’m not aligned with them. Even Jesus supposedly could not do miracles in certain locations because the disbelief was too strong.

It’s all a fascinating thought and there are certainly some interesting things that point to it being feasible. Further indications for me include my attempts to write this book. As I work on it, as with my previous book, my negative voices start acting up more. I can do nearly anything else and the voices won’t engage, but this book, this story, and this message, they have literally threatened me with insanity.

I do want to re-iterate before sharing these voices, that they are not audible. These are instantaneous belief-impressions. I ‘know’ the thought rather than hear or think it. These voices were also early in my new revelations of walking in mood. As I learned to modify my own mood instead of simply talking about it, these voices have gone awfully quiet.

“You aren’t wise enough to write this book. You don’t have enough figured out yet.”

“You want to be a teacher while you’re still crawling on the floor like a baby.”

“You’ll never finish this book. You’re too confused.”

“Even if you finish it, no one will want to read it—just like your last book”

“If you share your doubts, people won’t believe you—you have to speak with authority and certainty so wait until you know!”

“If you’re too human, they’ll reject you.”

“The flow is all wrong now. You had something decent earlier but now you’ve wrecked it.”

“Everyone just wants to take from you and never give anything back. Why help them?”

“People want sympathy and concern from you yet laugh at your struggles and mock you.”

“Come on, we’re sick of giving without getting anything in return. Stop this nonsense.”

“Set your boundaries and demand they prove this or give them nothing.”

“This sounds like garbage. This makes you seem weak. Imagine your coworkers reading this. What will they think?”

“You claim to be logical and here you are spouting some new religion.”

“We will destroy you if you rise up against us.”

These voices make the story seem all the more real to me. The science backs the methods, I derived the methods from the good voices that guided me, and indeed the voice ratio has been deeply altered. Whether the message is true or not about bringing on a new kingdom of people based upon those who follow these ideas, it doesn’t really matter. I don’t need to proclaim it as truth and I don’t need to convince anyone. It’s a hope, and a hope it can remain.

As I reopened myself to hearing from the voices guiding toward love, I have come to understand a framework that works for me. I will share that framework and my experiences with it, but I by no means intend to sell it. We must each do our own investigation filtered by our own understandings. I can prove nothing and can only share my experience.