Originally published at: A woman recalls her LSD-induced love affair with a pigeon | Boing Boing
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Pigeon noises, I hear them everywhere.
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Preparation = something you do with food
Trepannation/Trephination = boring a hole in your skull
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Reminds me of Nikola Tesla‘s love affair but hopefully with a less depressing conclusion.
“I loved that pigeon as a man loves a woman, and she loved me. As long as I had her, there was a purpose to my life.”
(Said pigeon died in 1922)
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I was high on edibles once, and, quick background: I’m really prone to hallucinations from weed. Anyway, we had our cat temporarily shut in a back room at that time b/c she was having bowel issues and we were keen to minimize the, shall we say, footprint. Not one to enjoy being on lock-down whatsoever, she took to howling/crying from behind the door in two-syllable spurts. It happens that my name is composed of two syllables and the closer I listened the more I thought (realized?) she was crying out my freaking name! The more I concentrated and paid attention the more clear it became until it was like another human speaking. That was several years ago and to this day, even when stone cold sober, if she meows in 2-syllable sounds I can hear my name in it. YIKES!
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I wouldn’t go that far, but I have done a 180 on pigeons in the last decade or so and now find them quietly delightful. They are easy to overlook, but very stylish if you choose to pay attention, and they make calming noises, and spend the day looking for clues.
I kinda think this had more to do with the acid and less to do with the pigeon.
Many also say it’s the “key to success.”
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