At the end of all my essays are songs that I enjoy.
It’s 12:13 am Christmas morning at a hostel in Peru. I had a nice Christmas dinner fellow travelers. I ate rice pudding, arroz con leche, as they call it here. My stomach was hurting post-meal, so it goes, but I wrote this story and now I’m good. This essay touches on spiritual enlightenment, psychedelics, my favorite book, trying to be less wrong, Elon Musk, and the breakout archetype.
Before dinner, I was sitting on the porch of the hostel with Arlene, from Luxembourg, and Jon, from The Netherlands, does any other country start with “The”?
Arlene and Jon have both done plant ceremonies. They drank Ayahuasca, a South American concoction that has DMT in it. As usual, people who have done a plant ceremony are asking me if I’m interested in doing a plant ceremony. It’s spiritual, they say.
“What does the word spiritual mean?” I ask.
“Wow, that’s a big one,” says Jon. “Like asking what …
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