Whose website be this?

Seeming to feel as if having introduced myself already too many times,

yet here is an introduction to read that is something written with another purpose in mind,

other than introducing myself, and yet bound with the fact of needing to be introduced.

Here befitting the kind of words needed that bind meaning online into the context of real life,

I could only hope that the purpose of enabling integration will shine through despite my tendency to write difficultly,

And can point out that at least that this page will be that with the least difficulty.

 

My Self Definition Statement Only The Curious Might Need:

 

I wrote this document while pondering how to introduce myself when among the contemporary community who self-identify as users of psychedelics, and include those whose approach to psychedelics began in scientific research. What am I? Did I use drugs first, and then approach the science, and learn to re-frame drug use as access to a medicine? Did I investigate the science of psychedelics first before using anything of the kind some folks still call drugs? That is a hard question to answer, in my case, which tends to cause folk expect my approach is from the point of view of being a drug user rather than a scientist. In many ways it is hardly worth explaining why that is not exactly true, and how all my interactions with psychedelics and all psychoactive substances, have been oriented into the idea of how to work through and with, and never how to excuse.

Hardly worth it simply because those whose drug use used me as their excuse, might still want me to be sustaining my quiet. In general having a quiet mind, is my specialization in every area of anybody’s expertise, and if there is one single fact that might qualify me in my participation within any psychedelic community, it need be in that I have never once needed to look at any visions whilst directly under the influence of the medicine. I can’t see via psychedelic medicines, but I am able to qualify that my every movement I make whilst under the influence of the psychedelics, weaves its consequences into every dream I dream every night, and thus every day this is my world. A world in which psychedelics and entheogenics, are something of how reality gains definition. However here I am seeking provide for readers, something of my self-concept of my self-definition, which of course as is usual for anybody, runs the risk of being less in reality than as I prefer.

Today I looked up my birth chart in astrology, via online freeware. I discovered, that when I had previously looked it up, and become corrected, I had instead been misinformed. Aged eighteen, I looked up a few details in my chart, and discovered that although the sun sign of July 23rd is normally in Leo, in the year of my birth and region, it is still in Cancer until some six hours after my birth. Now today, looking it up again, one online website says Cancer, using latitude and longitude about 40 kilometers outside the town I got born in, while another website, using the exact latitude and longitude of the hospital I got born at, says 00 degrees Leo. That is with three planets in Cancer, three in Leo, three is Aries, two in Virgo, and one in Scorpio. I am born in the year of the Monkey.

Meanwhile, all I intended here to write about myself, is a brief introduction. I usually use a poetry introduction which goes like this: “a mother a daughter a lover of live, an exorcist of addictions if ‘ere in need of that strife, at at bottom line a wife, that hat hath at,…” and now the poetry might deteriorate, or otherwise specify any specific contextual relevance to the online context in which I am asserting my presence. The truth is my life is a shameless shambles of humiliating and extravagant facts of which my affability can seem to be nonsense.

Yet I have my reasons. Of course we all have our reasons, and mine will be no less irrelevant on the whole, than anybody else’s. Yet there is a way in which my life is relevant to others, in which it is very very difficult to communicate. Difficult to live, but that is somewhat irrelevant. Difficult to communicate however is entirely relevant here. That is, especially if I might be able to communicate with you all who read me, something or other or else wise more or less enagaging for you due to the many relevant details of your own life which is not me and mine.

I might readily come across with a semblance of vast intelligence and astute and assertive social contribution, yet I dropped out of university studies enough times that I stopped counting at ten qualifications I did not complete. At forty nine and a half years old now, my entire career in the paid workforce adds up to four years in total of full time work. I have a disability pension from the Australian government’s Centrelink office, at first provided for schizophrenia which I never had, and now continued for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, even then now in recovery.

By now, reading this introduction, perhaps a few of you will have suspected drugs. And I could have gone down hard that way, if only I had not attended a weekend workshop about the twelve step tradition age nineteen, and stopped drinking before I ever had the habit. I seem to be able to avoid being particularly susceptible to the many other psycho-active substances I may have tasted at one time or another. And although my PTSD symptoms first surfaced three months into my first major marijuana detoxification, I have been though a similarly extensive cannabis detoxification process as many as six times by now, without further difficulty. In general I simply prefer to stay stone cold sober and straight almost all the time. Life is seriously complex enough as it is.

My PTSD, on the other hand, proved to be quite a straightforward simple matter, in the end. What happened, is that I experienced a half remembered trauma in infancy, and then age eighteen, a vividly recalled natural disaster; but the half of the infancy trauma which I remembered had caused my pelvic floor to prolapse, and so no symptoms of psychotic thinking could emerge without a period of time of cannabis use, followed by a shock during detoxification, eventually causing also numerous sleepless nights without cause of drugs. Eventually in my mid-forties, after another drug use experience, in which I coped somewhat better with the detoxification from a very brief habit associated with somebody spiking a bong with heroin when I had expected only cannabis, than as I had coped with the cannabis detox ten years before, Ayahuasca enabled me know the half of the infancy trauma which I had no recall of, and that was that, no further symptoms of PTSD. The eventual assessment of the impact seems to have left me living my life as though a comedy of errors.

But surely still there were details I have omitted, and which you may need know. In 1988, I attended a traditional indigenous Corroboree made for the purpose of re-establishing traditional Kinship values and practices amongst all Australians with any amount of indigenous ancestry. Until then I could have had no idea of any of my own ancestors being indigenous, a matter still held in doubt by many of my friends and family. However, between the years of 2003, and 2016, as the “promised wife” of a big bad black biker man, well known in the indigenous community nationally, I became kind of a traded commodity amongst dark men who have served time in the Australian prison system. Of these experiences, all will alude to, yet I hope I will never need state further than as I already have. The two websites I am maintaining, (and other residue online that can be traced via the names of these websites if anybody were curious enough to want to know), exist so as I need not tell that story too many times. A story which can cut to the core of all I know which defines reality, and yet which is as stable as can be, and nothing if not validated verified corroborated and evidenced in solid matter.

I might as well just have written, “OK, you are reading, that is nice, this will be difficult, but fine with me, I intend you no harm, yet feel concerned I need prevent you from causing harm unto yourselves”. Better you had need no further clue to find what you seek. If you know what is good for you, all I am able express is an aspect of my quest to be believed in. If not, you might have imagined you were reading me seeking only to know what was wrong with me, or what you might have gained by finding fault with me, and if nothing else, I hope my website wards you off persisting in such a foolhardy strategy towards me, but in general rather, your existing will be ignored by me. I trust in life, and in death have followed Jesus as in life, and what I have learned thereby, none might.

 

But what about finding me out there in the big wide world?

If you really must insist on tracking me myself down out in the world nowadays perhaps via the film school, the public funded film school in Brisbane, Australia.  Perhaps I will still be a student there if you are enquiring for decent reason.  Linked here is a Pebblepad Portfolio I made as an extra-curricular activity in week three of first year of the Bachelor of Film and Screen Media at Griffith Film School, part of Queensland College of the Arts.  It is not about what I am doing at film school, but just made on a whim, about potential.  Potential which may, or may never need, become realised.  Maybe by myself, or just including myself in a lowly role, and maybe even entirely without me, and is it even relevant that I think something can occur perhaps in future, since as likely as not I have no idea.