If there’s one thing to know about me, it’s that I went on a mushroom retreat in Jamaica and begged to receive wisdom from my ancestors. I wrote about it in a long ass post called mushtreat or something. I would quote link that post here, but I got back from 2 solid weeks away and days of drinking in a row. I’m now in pajamas, half committed to bed (not under the sheets), typing this on my phone, and know for sure- I gotta do Wednesday posts. Tuesdays? More like Too-crays-days am I right?
Yes, so, in Jamaica (search my other posts idk), I was shrooming, and trying to connect with the women who came before me. Like, spiritually and family tree-wise. I mostly think women are interesting, especially when it comes to dead people. My first dog Lucy appeared (barely counts as a women, but fully counts as an ancestor) and we had a fun laugh about the truly traumatic time I found her fucking dead when I was 16. My parents had us take her to the vet (????). Which btw, she remained dead once she was seen by a veterinarian. What did that end up costing?
The other “ancestor” who “visited” was a koi fish from the openly over populated koi pond at Kobé’s hibachi Orlando. The fish didn’t say much but was like, “isn’t is wild they won’t just kill me? I’m clearly in hell.”
It’s a haunted visual attraction btw, like, 6x too many fish for a three by three circular open tank thing. The surface of the water is littered in fish food. You can buy small plastic cups of aquatic treats at the host stand for $0.50. Rob once asked me for a dollar when we were waiting on our table. I felt like I was his mom, and then I watched him attempt to feed these really sad fish. They didn’t want more dry yellow bits of “food.”
All of that is to say, we went to hibachi (bar side) tonight and, the fish I got a message from during my Jamaica psilocybin tea, had a message for ME today.
The message?
FISH NOT DEAD!!
big back
back not belly.
Really makes you think.
Xox,
Ariana