Saturday, July 11, 2009


I wonder if there is a scientific phenomenon to explain this but I am pretty sure that walking through museums makes me trippy. It is in fact inseperable from the other highest states of intoxication that I have frequently experienced from more conventional means like alcohol. I stumble around in a daze, not talking or wanting to talk to anybody and all the little notes which describe the object on display begin to read like utter gibberish. It does not matter if it is an Egyptian mummy I am looking at or a Polynesian ceremonial boat, a beautiful landscape splashed across the canvas or a hypersonic plane. I find myself so absorbed by the significance of the object: say a prehistoric monster's bones, a toy played with by a child from 2000 years ago or the first practical motor car that I frequently lose my bearings of time and space. A casual observer couldn't be faulted for notifying the museum security of a runaway lunatic if he/she has the patience to observe how I can remain motionless and expressionless for minutes on end in front of a display that I take a special fancy to. Till someone invents a time machine, this is how I get my highs.

This is not a bad development at all speaking from a personal perspective. No bartender's bill and tip to take care of, no next day morning hangovers, absolutely zero chances of being handed a DUI (Driving Under the Influence), not to mention the exercise to be had wandering through massive dimly lit halls are the first few advantages that come to mind. I am sure there are plenty more. And like in all other cases of being buzzed, I have only the faintest of memories of actually having been there and done that. A really good excuse it turns out for doing the same ol' trip, again, again and again!

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