Round with breathing nostrils Roars Can herbivores growl? Give me that honey To drink tar tea with him

...Psychedelics are banned not because of the illusions they create, but because of the illusions they destroy... Rabbi Zach Kamenetz. Photo: Jessica Chou A year ago, in the midst of a pandemic, when diverse Judaism came powerfully online, I met Orthodox rabbi Zach Kamenetz on Zoom. He participated in Johns Hopkins University experiments with psychedelic substances. The story is like this. In 1960-1962, neuroscientists Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert created the Harvard Psilocybin Project.

I'd like to fuck against the wall To the extent that Molecules of me Will cover the distance There are walls between them and the molecules Which is known It's impossible to overcome But I will overcome Fucking against the wall With the speed of a dolphin Running away from a killer whale If this dolphin There would also be a backpack With airplane engines Airplane flying At the speed of sound.

We talked about the weather. We talked about magnetic storms. We talked about prices. We talked about taxis. We talked about art. We talked about gynecology. We talked about haircuts. We didn't talk about stage four cancer. We talked about construction. We talked about music. We talked about radio broadcasts. We talked about food. We talked about mushroom pies. We talked about friends. We talked about friends. We didn't talk about my dog. And in general, in fact, We were just silent

The publication of one of the most famous novels of the 19th century in world literature occurred during the reign of Queen Victoria in Great Britain (1837 - 1901). At that time, the “Victorian morality” that accompanied the life of every Englishman became a striking element of the culture of England.

Stream of consciousness Monkey dance God, she dances so well Lezginka is sharp and accurate And these pa This belly dance How she shakes her hips, drawing out lewd urges Yes, monkey, dance some more When I was a child, a friend gave me a book About the monkey Anfiska But, damn it, Anfisa can't compare with you Dancing monkey of my head Even despite the bow You don't need a bow Your head is shaking the rhythm so much that it would fall off Even scratching is only part of the show You are amazing,

Woman buying vodka I'm buying palpi I want to buy vodka But I'm buying palpi I have money for palpi She has money for vodka But no on palpi This is how the amazing system works Distribution of needs Fund distributions In the capitalist world Scarves from grandma And Gucci brooches My palpi is sour and sweet Her vodka will leave a scorched field Tongue and pharynx Stomach and brain Especially Brain I really want vodka It makes more sense If you dive and fall Palpi sugar doser Palpi will deceive

Doesn't bother me How not to worry in the desert Sea breeze How not to worry about an unnecessary gift Which was not given How poverty doesn't bother you Rich man I don't care about death I loved the word coma But in reality I just don’t know how to understand time I can't understand the past And the present I love the people around But a huge limb stone Can't fit in my head You just have to wait Not yet And your fingers will unclench on their own And I'll fall down Very fast That your throat

You're wearing jacquard mules I wasn't washed But they immediately put on clothes, immediately put on shoes And now I'm standing Dirty and smelly Like a donkey Come over And me pack I will easily lie under you Eccentricity on me Wrinkled trousers Like a provincial Locality And your capital Gives away Gas And the decay of personality You're sitting on a chair Trying on conscious Criticality To the world And you pat me on the back of the head So that I turn around And I saw How are you Shining

I will count days, months, years and even hours So that at the right time Notify you That I don't love you And yes I will have to wait Forty-five years, five months, two days And eight minutes But I won't upset you And I won't make you suffer And your face won't wrinkle Like sour plums You will be so serene That guilt won't consume me And yes, at sixty-five It will be difficult for me to find someone A bird sitting in a cage all its life Can't fly anymore But you won't be sad And I won't

Fantastic days of youth fly by faster than a plane over Uruguay Bite my fingers Maybe I'll wake up Well why did I decide Call it your paradise Not endless and small A tangle of fleeting feelings

Ustin Dvinsky was born in 1976 in Latvia, near Riga, in a place called Daugavgriva (until the end of the 19th century - Dünamünde, and until 1917 - Ust-Dvinsk). There, on a coastal island at the mouth of the Daugava, there are the ruins of a fortress of the same name. Ustin borrowed his creative pseudonym from this toponym.

I can't look at my body anymore I want to close my eyes Move your hand And stumble over emptiness Yes, and in general there is no hand Levitation Allows objects to move I'll open my eyes For Which are no longer T I can't look at my body anymore Because there is nothing to look at and nothing to look at

I'll try to go deeper But as usual I’ll just scoop up a little I'm your cousin sipping a milkshake on the porch And your hamster died And I'll try to console But I don't know how to console I'm six, seeing grief I just look closer What I write is the cracking of knuckles During the pause of the funeral speech Not in terms of the effect produced But rather in that completeness of inability Lower your hand and touch the bottom Feel Or rather Describe I'm jumping off the stream of consciousness

When I was a child I played a game At the beginning of the school year I said Now it will end Closed my eyes Opened And indeed It was already May All that was That's what it was And he won't be there anymore The brain will forget He will forget everything Once And it's time to go to the grave The game was fun at first I wasted unnecessary days To run further But it's unpleasant What about becoming a teenager I immediately stopped being him All that was That's what it was And he won't be there