Our anxiety, our angst, our wandering in the wasteland is because there’s something wrong with us that we don’t know about. What it is is this: we are symbiotic creatures, we require a relationship with a certain plant and if we don’t have this plant we go slightly bananas… This symbiotic relationship was disturbed about 12,000 years ago… Then begins human history at the 11,000 B.C. point. What’s happening with human history, perhaps not even articulated, but nevertheless there, is a restless driving search for substitutes; substitutes for the lost partnership ambiance, for plant symbiotes that held that in stasis… What religion is is a contact with the tremendum, the numinosum at the beginning of history in this context of plant hallucinogens until the fall - the telescoping stages that moved us away from the original purity of this numinous image - and it ends in crack addiction. It’s all about substances. This is why we frantically search for the Perfect High… What we are trying to do is restore order and we can’t do it. Like the romantic lovers parted, the partner is not present, the completing anima image is simply not there, so we are restless, repressive, migratory, destructive, self-negating, so forth and so on.

Terence McKenna

There are metaphors more real than the people who walk in the street. There are images tucked away in books that live more vividly than many men and women. There are phrases from literary works that have a positively human personality. There are passages from my own writing that chill me with fright, so distinctly do I feel them as people, so sharply outlined do they appear against the walls of my room, at night, in shadows… I’ve written sentences whose sound, read out loud or silently (impossible to hide their sound), can only be of something that acquired absolute exteriority and a full-fledged soul.

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (via observando)

(via sketchingemotions)

A Materialistic consciousness is attempting to preserve itself from Dissolution by restriction & persecution of Experience of the Transcendental. One day perhaps the Earth will be dominated by the Illusion of Separate consciousness, the Bureaucrats having triumphed in seizing control of all roads of communication with the Divine, & restricting traffic. But Sleep & Death cannot evade the Great Dream of Being, and the victory of the Bureaucrats of Illusion is only an Illusion of their separate world of consciousness.

Allen Ginsberg, The Yage Letters Redux, xlix.