I saw the birth of the chain reaction that started the Big Bang and then watched the entire universe evolve until aliens came to visit me to inform me that working a 9-to-5 job was worthless if I didn’t actually care about little green pieces of paper or the job I was doing. Instead, I cared about creating art and writing.

After countless billions of years, I exhaled my puff of DMT, also known as dimethyltryptamine. Upon returning to reality, I asked the nice hippy dude who helped guide me through this, “How long was I out?” Only two minutes. During his turn, he spoke with all the people who had hurt him and he’d hurt, and all was forgiven.

This incident happened in a little town in Australia with incredibly lax drug laws. Smoking DMT wasn’t something I planned on doing while I backpacked through the continent, but it was a huge help to “find myself.” Did anybody get hurt? Nope! We prevented danger by watching each other, because you might just fall out of your chair in a stupor if you’ve ever puffed on the spirit molecule (another moniker for this psychedelic).

I bought about $50 worth of the stuff but gave about $40 of it away because it was just too much. Will I do it again? I don’t know.

Why not? I met aliens and finally found an understanding of the world. I’ve been listening to Joe Rogan’s podcasts and reading about interesting stuff, so my feelings are more open to drugs, but it’s not like they were ever that closed.

That’s the point of this week’s column: I’m coming out of the drug closet.

I’ve done plenty of drugs but not a ton. Never anything addicting or dangerous. I’m not advocating for them. Most of my experiences happened as an adult.

I’m the lightest of lightweights. I don’t drive — sober or intoxicated. I’ve never missed a day of work or been fired from a job or given sexual favors because of drugs. I just thought, “I think I’d like to smoke some weed, eat an entire pizza and watch ‘Labyrinth.'” Or maybe, “I’d like to celebrate my birthday by doing some MDMA, enjoying music, looking at colors, dancing, drinking a ton of water and then sleeping in comfortable sheets.” Or take some LSD and listen to Tool albums. Eat mushrooms and walk around the galaxy for a few hours. Smoke a joint and take the best shower of my life.

Should I feel guilty for this stuff? Should I worry about an employer not hiring me because even though the stars in the sky are gorgeous, I believe that certain chemicals can make them even more amazing? Should I fear that women won’t date me if I occasionally relieve my stress by smoking weed?

If you don’t want to be around me, fine with me. Otherwise, we can share experiences about how these chemicals sometimes have positive effects.

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