Star was a spy in the second world war

It was colder than usual for an autumn night, so after consuming the mushrooms Star zipped up his leather motorcycle jacket, put on his black beanie and headed out into the night.

Despite being the child of a seriously hippy mother and growing up in a house truck, Star wasn’t a hippy. He was as serious, streetwise and tough as you can get. Growing up with a name like Star in the 70s and 80s in helps you grow a thick skin. He learnt how to fight but tended to avoid it if at all possible. He kept a couple of ball bearings in his pocket.

“I’m a pretty good shot bro, one of these to the torso is going to slow ya down. One to the head will drop any fucker and they’re not a lethal weapon if the cops happen to want to look through your pockets. Winning.”  

Psychedelic experiences can vary hugely. It depends on what you take, how much you take, how you feel at the time and your personality in general. Your endogenous brain chemistry is important and your surroundings will have an impact too. It changes depending on who and where you are. Your mind set and your setting.

Walking through the trees, deep in shadow, with the river on his left, Star felt the mushrooms begin to take effect. He felt a warmth spread, seemingly from the centre of his brain out, and felt mildly dizzy and off balance.

It had been a tough week at work and the shift he’d just finished had been intense. He’d felt stressed all day, barely stopped for a meal and now with the mushroom insinuating their way into the edges of his consciousness, he felt mildly anxious.

Walking through the tree he noticed the way the shadows of the upper boughs fell on the branches below and then onto the ground. He stopped for a second under a large oak which was denuded by winter and he watched the way the outer edges of the tree’s shadow danced with the breeze.

Star’s pupils were dilated, partly because of the low light in the riverside park, but mostly because of the increased levels of serotonin in his brain.

He could see colours in the deeper shadows. Patterns without definition changing and sparkling.

It’s fair to say that your sense of judgment slides away from normality under the influence of psychedelics. Mushrooms in peculiar have a way of shifting your perception of reality. You can’t really trust your judgement on a heavy dose of shrooms. Star knew this, he was an experienced psychonaut, but as the mushrooms made their way into his blood stream and crossed the blood-brain barrier he started to lose some context but wasn’t aware it was happening.

Under the influence of psilocybin, brain activity patterns change. Some areas of the brain have more pronounced activity and others are muted, notably a region of the brain which helps us maintain our sense of self and that associated with high level cognition. Having less sense of self under the influence of mushrooms isn’t a novel for the experienced user and taken far enough the heavy user will have no sense of self and become ‘one-with-it-all’, with no ego and no body awareness. Depending on your world view this can be one of life greatest achievements or one of its most abject horrors. Depending on your world view.

Having no high-level cognition on psychedelics isn’t unusual either. It’s pretty hard to stay organised on mushrooms. Planning and rational though becomes difficult. Abstract, tangential and non-linear thinking becomes much more prevalent though. You see connections and find patterns where under normal conditions you wouldn’t.

Star looked down at his leather jacket and saw his ripped jeans and his leather boots. He felt the hat tight on his head and the scarf wrapped around his neck for warmth. There was no mirror but thanks to the timeless wonders of psychedelics he was able to look at himself in some sort of disembodied viewing. He saw himself as a fighter pilot from the second world war.

If he was a pilot where was his plane? He’d obviously had to abandon it. Why would he abandon it? He must have been shot down!

‘Shot down…’ he thought ‘Holy shit. If I’ve been shot down I must be behind enemy lines.’ This might seem an unusual jump for the uninitiated or even to some experience drug users.

Star stopped to look around. It was quiet except for the tops of the massive trees that moved in the wind.  The susurration of leaves from the evergreens sent a wave through his nerves. A car turned a corner at an intersection in the distance, the headlights picking out skeletal boughs of trees that had lost the last of their orange and brown coats.

‘They’re onto me’ shot through his brain. ‘They know I’m here somewhere, they must have seen my parachute as I came down’.

‘I’ve got to hide’.

Star moved off the path and deeper into the shadows of the park’s gardens.

He ran. Running felt good. He crossed the street, and down the driveway that led from the front of the property toward the back. He crossed the lawn, dodged between the orange and lemon trees and scaled the six-foot back fence. He was moving a fast clip and seemed to just fly over it, but in the process, he hadn’t noticed the privet hedge that had grown up thickly along he neighbouring boundary. As he sailed over the fence the branches of the hedge caught on his jacket and scratched his face on the way through. What had started out as a graceful journey through space ended in a tumultuous and un-ceremonial entanglement.

He also hadn’t noticed the couple who’d been sitting on their back-porch smoking cigarettes. They noticed him though. Being of a nervous disposition they decided they should inform the local constabulary that they’d just seem someone in dark clothes run through their back yard and into their neighbours.

A little stunned from his fall, Star lay on the ground trying to work out which way was up.

Under influence of psilocybin the parts of the brain thought to deal with emotional system become alive and show higher activity than normal. Some researchers think that the brain slips unconscious patterns like those associated with dreaming.

Looking up at the sky the dark hedge was contrasted against the orange glow of streetlights nearby that coloured the cloudy night sky. As he watched, the branches of the hedge wove themselves together, making knot work and patterns that seemed to be imbued with meaning. Bright colours rippled across the edges of the silhouetted patterns and when he closed his eyes he could see the same patterns emerging from the darkness, morphing and glowing.

Star’s sense of time had become distorted. It felt like he’d been there in the shadows for hours, when in reality less than five minutes had passed.

As he sat in the shadows he heard a low thrumming noise which grew steadily louder. Suddenly the backyard was illuminated from above. His vision struggled to cope with the sudden change of darkness to light. The bright green grass spread in front of him and rolled in waves. Daffodils shouted at his shoulder and a tricycle laying on its side on the green ocean of the lawn seemed imbued with meaning. The noise became unbearable loud and he knew he had to leave.

Star ran from his spot in the shadows, across the grass and around the tricycle. He darted down the side of the house and out onto the footpath, picking up speed he ran directly across the road and down another driveway, he jumped and small gated fence and sprinted for the taller fence at the rear of the property. A dog which had been sleeping on the veranda leapt to its feet and started barking. Lights came on in the house.

Star ran. Looking back, he could see the helicopters spotlight as it trailed behind him. The body and the rotors caught the street lights and glistened like they were covered in oil. He changed course and strategy, this time he ran for the shadows, and stayed in close to the house putting the building between him and the helicopter. He doubled back on his course and crossed the same street again ˜

A pair of headlights caught him in their beam. Then there was a brief siren and blue and red altenating lights

His eyes had rolled back into his head and the officer couldn’t find a pulse. She started giving Star mouth to mouth and pumping his chest she was saying out loud:

“Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother

You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive

Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin'

And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, stayin' alive

Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive

Well now, I get low and I get high

And if I can't get either, I really try

Got the wings of heaven on my shoes

I'm a dancin' man and I just can't lose

You know it's alright, it's okay

I'll live to see another day

We can try to understand.”

It turns out that Staying Alive by the Bee Gees is the perfect speed for pulmonary resuscitation.

Star opened his eyes and looked at the face directly above his. He saw kind eyes and he saw concern. He saw a police officer’s uniform and he knew he wasn’t a fighter pilot.

He smiled at her and winked. Shocked the officer rolled back onto her heels. “You bastard, I thought you were dead”.