Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I did it to keep from freaking out when the walls started to move and melt. I did it to take my mind off the acid. I was so afraid. Basicaly I was bat shit crazy from November 22, 1963 to the that niight in 1972 when I took the acid. Even now I am still not right.

... now for 21 years!

Welcome to Encore Weekend on SpiritPlants Radio! (November 22-23, 2025). Featured are the 4 new DJ'd shows that were on SPRadio in October & November 2025. These shows & their DJs include:

*** Within's Within: Scenes from the Psychedelic Revolution with DJ Soulard | Show ...

... and cried, threw herself on his coffin. While I froze up inside. Until November 22, 1963 when all hell broke loose. And I fell off the edge of my mind.

carotid in hands
suicide by matricide
her face so sad

https://www.studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtopic.php?t=3632

any chance to dance
they say time and chance happen to all men
November 22, 1963
when one ex-marine in Dallas with a rifle almost made me commit suicide by matricide
I was listening to my Rose of Agudas Achim death rattle.
"The mother is the first awesome miracle that haunts the child his whole life ...

... of San Antone Johnny I hardly knew ya
Sixty years come and gone since November 22, 1963, I am still alive.
even though Ferlinghetti's train has left the station
I can live without romance but not without Friendship.
I am a rock but not an island
I am Special, not normal.
RE: Phillip K. Dick, Do ...

... of San Antone Johnny I hardly knew ya
Sixty years come and gone since November 22, 1962, I am still alive.
even though Ferlinghetti's train has left the station
I can live without romance but not without Friendship.
I am a rock but not an island
I am Special, not normal.
RE: Phillip K. Dick,

Is ...

I still remember the look in my mother's eyes on November 22, 1963, the day I held her throat between my hands, and my thumbs could feet the pulse in her carotids. I saw no fear there only sorrow, that is what stopped me from suicide by matricide.

we are fortunate sons
what ever hell my mother put me ...

... amor fati
September 14, 2023
jimbo.jpg
Catharsis and abreaction
November 22, 1963
when one ex-marine in Dallas with a rifle almost made me commit suicide by matricide
I was listening to my Rose of Agudas Achim death rattle.
"The mother is the first awesome miracle that haunts the child his ...

will the circle be unbroken November 22, 1984, I was listening to that song when the carried her remains out to the ambulance?
I have not seen Diamond Lil in a year, even if she has no idea who I am anymore, I still know who she is. She is the woman who was responsible for the good death of my Rose of ...

... not to coddle me, said she would regret it one day. That day came on November 22, 1963, when I almost committed suicide by matricide, Oedipus wretch had nothing on me.


"The mother is the first awesome miracle that haunts the child his whole life, whether he lives within her powerful aura or rebels ...

... last one for a long long time, about a decade for me to thaw out after November 22, 1963.

pardon the ramble thanks for the poem 8)
just one more thing....I
first read this one the summer of 1962
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
“The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain ...

... write this.

Anger is problematic for me, this from a man who once(November 22, 1963) come to near to suicide by matricide.
Some of what is happening is beyond anger. I wish I was smart enough to get my head around Kierkegaard's 'Concept of Dread'

... here racking my brain, trying to remember where I was in 1969.
From November 22, 1962, to sometime in the summer of 1972 I was barely conscious
I had a great coming of age when I was twenty, that would make it 1960 and JFK had just been elected. And I was living a good life
Then crazy mike died in ...

... days
back when i did not need no stinking badge to freak out
after November 22, 1963 I stayed freaked till my first trip when I freaked in



even so it is acid etched on the neural receptors for what ever reason this compulsive scribbling is.

wish I had a novel going :mrgreen:
all i got is this ...

... don’t remember the last time I cried. Or vomited.

I remember Dallas, November 22, 1963, and where I was.

I remember Christmas Eve, 1968 – getting home from midnight Mass, turning on the TV, and beholding the moon from 70 miles away while the crew of Apollo 8 read from Genesis. I remember the magic ...