the other day kumar said something that reminded me of mushroom vision and i asked him was he eating psilocybes. today he walked up on me getting a picture of this little capped cutie in the little hole of a lopped branch. he said how did it get there, and was that what i was talking about, and i said all mushrooms are magic, but psilocybes give you mushroom vision, and i think it stays with you however latent a long time. i haven't eaten the magic mushroom since college, but i always see mushrooms. i think they see me first. i told k. how i could look at tiny parcels of dirt and moss and mushrooms for eternities on mushrooms, and i started to get nostalgiac, though i didn't reveal that there is a dark magic released to with that deep clear vision, which i think is a human thing the mushroom also reveals. it can get pretty heavy, but i think kumar, being a natural born healer, is up to it, though i don't even know where to find these mushrooms these days. the last i saw of this diminutive tribe was in a cow field on gabriola island in a mist with about twelve hominids on hands and knees like small pale cows in hippie clothes browsing among the herd. 
k. asked if i saw beings and stuff, apparitions, and i could only remember looking so intently at microns of vegetal reality i thought i might disappear. but i was a little aloof with kumar about the exact aspect of my micro vision quest, i may have had some retro-shyness, as i do recall feeling somehow intensely embarrassed after what seemed hours and hours of staring into the dirt. and i didn't want to discourage him, though he told me he sated at a stone for five hours, with more like a quiet pride.

while i chatted with k. mister sat under the tree and thought. who knows what he thought, but i imagine like we get thoughts direct from mushrooms he being made of fine fibers may get thought direct from mushrooms as well as us. 

from behind us drifted into our conversation the crazy song of somebody by their lonesome in harold washington kiddie park, and i looked that way and saw nobody though i saw somebody before and k. said it's ok they're crazy and i said maybe just happy? i wondered how can you tell somebody's crazy or just so happy they can't keep it in? and yet i could admit the sound could be considered crazy and i saw the biped climbing the rope tower and i wondered if it was a mushroom song and if it was singing for me and maybe i was crazy, i've thought that well before. just because you ask if you are crazy doesn't mean you are not, even if you are not a sociopath and don't ask, or even if you don't climb a rope tower by your lonesome and sing a crazy song.

if you look for a moral it may be buried, but that's where the song of the mushroom people begins to grow.