So there I was, lookin’ at some DMT. It was in a vape, which most people don’t really know you can do, and I don’t even remember who I got it from. I probably shouldn’t hit this right now, I work at a daycare, and what if I see the machine elves and think they’re the kids I work with and start freaking out. Whatever. It’s probably not even a big deal, and people keep telling me to worry less. So anyways, the moms of the kids in the daycare are all aspiring naturopaths, which I’m not even entirely sure the definition of, and they send their kids in with organic breast milk. They freeze this shit. It’s on a cycle, man. They’ve hypervigilantly ingested the desired nutrients for their children so that the metabolites end up exactly where they’re supposed to be. In the breast milk.
So anyways, you’ve heard of Similac, right? I’m going to assume you haven’t. It’s like a simulacrum of bre-- wait, shit. That’s why they called it that. But, anyways, Similac is sort of like the Temu iPhone vapes that you can play Tetris on compared to the “head of lettuce” that is breast milk. I don’t care about the pollutants, that’s not why I don’t drink Similac, I don’t drink Similac because it doesn’t really make sense to me why I would, because I’m an adult. I feed it to the kids because they’re just kids, I’m pretty sure they’re built to withstand more things than most. How would they get old if they could just die randomly? But I’m getting off-topic.
These moms are fucking freaks. They care so much about shit I don’t understand, and I don’t even understand why. I mean, I think having babies is cool. I’ve never been confused about that part for the past two years. I mean, it’s funny it’s even called
“breast” milk at all, because all milk is from a “breast”, but the thing that makes milk is the body, like, it’s the entire body that makes it. If anything, they should just call it milk.
I’ve done DMT upwards of fifteen or 20 times. I don’t think it really does much except make you hallucinate and/or think differently. Usually I think about math, and interconnection, big deal, like, okay, an angel revealed to me some stuff that I don’t really care about, and every time I do the DMT, she’s there, and it’s like one of those books of 1,000 Useless Facts. Last time, the angel said there are 2 elephants in Bulgaria, and I asked, what, like, in a zoo? The trip immediately ended, because DMT trips are really short, and I just know that the next time I smoke it, she’s going to say “yes” or some shit. Human breast milk comes in a variety of different colors, but the classic color has always been white. Fun fact, everything is kind of like breast milk; the ball of cabbage eats the dirt that has like different things in it, and that’s the same as a woman drinking a glass of white wine. It all-- It’s all in there.
I should probably talk about pasteurization and why that’s a whole thing these days. In Europe, they sell eggs that aren’t even refrigerated. I’ve never been there, but my friend who I know is French has, and he says they sell eggs there that aren’t even refrigerated. Everybody tells me that I have a lot of friends in Europe. And if you’re wondering what the breast milk situation is in Europe: stop right there. I don’t know anything about it. I try to ask him without asking him, my French friend, but he just keeps saying that they say “biologique” instead of “organic.” If the moms that I know lived there, they would have to know that to go grocery shopping.
Last night I had a dream. I zoomed out from my body and realized that the entire earth was on the back of a turtle, and that turtle was standing on a different earth, and that earth was the normal one. I looked down at my feet and I saw that I was wearing shoes that I don’t own in real life, and I looked up at the sky, and realized that I don’t own anything there either. But then I woke up before I could try to own anything.
Sometimes my dreams make me feel really weird. It feels like they’re more real than anything, except real life. I hope when I die, I go to a place where I own my shoes.
The moms don’t really notice when I siphon their breast milk to sell to secondary sources, much like my own mother used to siphon gas with her mouth, or suck on the tips of pens after they had dried up to try to get them to write more without getting too much ink in her mouth. Now I know what you’re going to say. So I’m not even going to dignify it with a response. DMT has been getting more expensive because of supply-chain issues, and a guy’s gotta make ends meet somehow. And I’m not going to do it the way my mom did.
France is a global superpower when it comes to producing the man who invented pasteurization. It was sort of their joie de vivre, so to speak, or perhaps their magnum opus. Actually, I probably shouldn’t say that. I don’t really know where DMT came from but it might’ve been Switzerland. I think some people speak French there.
Some people call me ambitionless, but I think I just know how to get things done more efficiently.
things we didn’t bother working in to the main text
There are trilobites in your brain that make the clouds blue.
When you eat grass, you eat everything the grass has eaten too. And the same is for cows--the same way for cows. Because then you get, like, the grass and the cow. And that means cow milk. shrug do something with that, you sick freak.
Don’t write that.
Here’s the thing, StackExchange has never once been able to successfully explain to me when to use “who” and “whom”.
The library is like a biblioteque there [in France]