Memoir Reflection
The first time I tried acid was with Kyle.
He had done it before, but for me, it was new—an open door into something I couldn’t yet name. He promised to guide me, and I trusted him. We were wrapped in lights—LED rainbows flickering across the room like portals—and when I looked into his eyes, I felt it:
We had done this before.
Not the drug.
The reunion.
The soul recognition.
We weren’t just Jenn and Kyle anymore—we were light and memory, energy and soul. I saw him move through lifetimes behind his eyes—young, old, dying, returning—each time finding his way back to me. In those moments, I remembered why I came to Earth. I remembered what it felt like to be divine. And in my mind’s eye, Kyle transformed into a white unicorn with blue eyes. My Unicornio Azul.
It was more than a trip. It felt like prophecy.
Or maybe it was illusion wrapped in the cloth of eternity.
Either way, I believed in it.
I believed in us.
But then the comedown came like thunder.
He accused me of betrayal—jealousy erupting from nowhere.
We were dancing to Rufus Du Sol, high, connected, free—and I said, “Let’s go for a ride.”
I meant freedom.
He heard abandonment.
The magic cracked, and all the colors turned to panic.
He yelled. I cried. The energy turned dark.
I saw the dogs running like spirits around us, the house spinning with paranoia.
The same eyes that once held a thousand lifetimes now held suspicion, fear, control.
And just like that, paradise collapsed into hell.
We never truly spoke about that night again.
And maybe that’s what hurts the most.
Because I saw God in his eyes…
And then I saw ego, rage, and possession too.
What is real?
Was the magic ever real—or was it the drug?
Even now, I don’t have a clear answer.
But what I do know is this:
I saw a glimpse of my soul remembering.
I saw myself through cosmic eyes.
And I saw how even the most sacred feeling can be shattered in a heartbeat
…when someone doesn’t know how to hold what is holy.
