And so I sit there, high on mushrooms, taking a shit in the bathroom of the pastor's home. It's been hours since I ate the chocolate, and I still feel no closer to God. Everything remains so far away: Jesus, Sonya and the kids, and (most of all) any sense of self-worth. That's why I came here, to Colorado, to meet two of the clergy who are part of the underground movement. Sonya didn't want me to. I had to convince her that this trip might save my career, save me. But taking psilocybin like it's some kind of sacrament seems to only hide now the deeper truth of my life: I've fucked up everywhere. |
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