Category: #dreamyoga

“Job” Interview  – IP – Patents Dream 30-07-2025

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Here is this morning’s dream had between 5 and 7 AM. I did not think I would go back to sleep but had this from which I awoke exhausted and grilled.

The dream starts in South West London, with a feel of Richmond Wimbledon etc.. I am with a younger man, mid-late thirties. He has bright blonde hair and is tall and slim. He is immaculately dressed in an English suit, overcoat and with expensive English shoes. He is smooth and accustomed to handling people. He is privately school educated and has a crisp posh accent. He has not seen much sun and is a pale indoors person from a high social class family, hence a part of the firm. He is skilled in meet and greet {think main character Pine in The Night Manager only better}. We are in his shared house and getting ready to go into town. There are two other men and one Serbian or Bosnian woman who live there. The hallway to the house has very small black and white tiles and the door is of a large ornate stained glass kind. The implication is that they all work together. They are all high functioning.

The woman is in the kitchen and opens the door out. Bibi our adopted stray cat runs out into the garden. We need to get the cat in because they are all returning to work. In the garden there is a golf style sand bunker. Bibi is in it and wants to play. I go over and sweep her up onto my shoulder as is customary and bring her back into the kitchen. The house is period with original features. It has an Aga over which is a wooden slats clothes dryer, raised by a pulley and cord. The kitchen is massive and decked out for cooking and entertaining. I let Bibi off my shoulder onto the kitchen table and say that I will be back later to drive her home. The woman speaks with an accent to the cat. She is also tall and lithe, gymnastic even. To an extent they are all humouring me as they have been told to do.

I go outside with the young man through a tiled entrance area from what once was the scullery up to street level. I comment that it is nice that all the original enamelled tiles remain. We are running a little behind schedule and we make our way to the ticket office of the over ground railway. The man in the ticket office hands me a small bundle of documents hand sized ~4 by 6 inches. In this is a cardboard “wallet” of yellowed colour and age. In it are old photos of the male side of my family some of whom are in their military uniform. He has gotten them out of records and I must give them to the blond man. The documents contain old out of circulation Sterling banknotes. I hand them to my “guide”.

He takes them and gets two old school train tickets for us. The man form the ticket office says that the next train is at 4:30.  We look at the clock it is nearly an hour to wait. He says that “they” are waiting for us upstairs.

We go up into a busy bar come waiting area. It is lively, there is a hubbub and people are drinking. At one end of the room there is a long rectangular table around which are sat a number of people, less than ten. They are all male ranging in age from mid-thirties to my age. Most of them are wearing suits. They are going to interview me for a “job”. The notion it is for a glass company like Pilkington. The whole things seems weird to me because I have made no job application. They are sort of “head hunting”. The “guide” ushers me to the head of the table and sits me down. The man in charge at the other end of the table welcomes me and says that they are going to ask me a few questions. There is a lot of interplay between panel members. I have a knowing that at least two people on the panel are from the security services, they are British. There is a possible third who says nothing but who had a distinctly American air. He is the only black person on the panel amidst the nondescript white men. He is focussed and attentive.

The chair asks me about patents. I say that I have three granted patents, two on Extreme Ultraviolet (EUV). He asks me how these were filed. I say that when were knocking the ideas of a company about I started the ball rolling by going to Kilburn and Strode to draw up the first patent application. I look to one of the men to my left. The penny drops I have met him before very briefly at Kilburn and Strode. He is a government patent attorney. I claim him and he says that yes, he was there, I too looked vaguely familiar. They want to know who I worked with at Kilburn and Strode. I can’t remember the name except that it was Welsh sounding and that he has gone on to be a senior partner. I suggest that they look him up on the internet. They take over the entertainment screen in the bar and give me some new fangled clicker to run the search. I do not know how to use it. This bemuses them. I say that I have never seen a device like this before. They are disappointed in me. The chair says why would I have used one of these things before.

One of the junior members of the panel asks me about my exam results. Somehow, he has a file about me open on his desk. It has my photo and multiple sheets of paper therein; it is about half a centimetre thick. He has withdrawn the file from records for this purpose. I say that I got four “A”s and four “B”s at “O” level and BCC at “A” level. He tuts unimpressed. I explain to him that this was before rampant grade inflation. He inquires what about the recent “E” grade. I say that I have no idea what he is talking about. I joke that it was my self-taught grade for computer science. One of the panel gestures for him to desist. He backs off.

One of the security people wants again to know whom I worked with at Kilburn & Strode. The name still escapes me. For some reason it is very important for the security guy. I say to him that I have a relatively recent patent grant for a patent entitled “Electric Field Induced Spontaneous Parametric Down Conversion” * . He really wants to know who I worked with all those years ago.

At the far end of the table there is a discussion, which I am not privy to, going on. It is very animated. I remain pretty unsure as to why I am there and what they could possibly want from me. I am incongruous in their company and the plush opulent bar like setting. I can feel that somehow it is important to them but I have no notion of why. It is tiring all that stress.

As I come to, I remember that it was Gwilym Roberts, all those years ago.

The dream ends

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* The full patent title is “Increasing the probability of generating entangled photon pairs using Electric Field Induced Spontaneous Parametric Down Conversion”.

From The Kilburn an Strode Web Site

Arguably the highest profile patent attorney in Europe, Gwilym Roberts advises clients on all aspects of the patent process including IP audit and capture, IP filing strategies and patent portfolio management techniques. He acts for a range of clients including individuals, SMEs, Universities, and spin outs through to multi-nationals and handles a broad and diverse range of cases before the UK Patent Office, EPO and WIPO.

Candle Vigil – Koyaanisqatsi – Jaguar Shaman – Strange Group Dream 25-07-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ 1 Comment

Here is last night’s dream, strangely out of context with our current life and way of living.

The dream starts in South America on the mainland, perhaps Western Caribbean, on the connective peninsula. I am walking along a path cleared into the jungle at dusk / early night. I come upon a sunken built structure which has downward going stepped stone seating, a bit like a Greek theatre

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The construction is totally circular and the “stage” area is of the same grey stone at the rest of the amphitheatre. The construction is ancient South American, Maya or Aztec or some such. The radius is about 50 metres and there are at least half a dozen seating rows. It seems very familiar to me. On each step / seat is spaced a circle of lit candles in tumbler size glasses of various shapes and colours. There are hundreds of them. On the stage there are concentric circles of similar candles around a central circle empty void. The candles flicker lightly in the wind. I know this place to be a reliquary of living souls, each candle a spark of life. They have gathered to meditate on the state of the world. Against the darkened backdrop of the surrounding noisy night time jungle, here is a sanctuary.

The scene changes and I start to see scenes like from the film Koyaanisqatsi where rushing images of “normal” hectic life with its chaos and destruction are playing out on a “screen” in the mind’s eye. I hear chanting of Koyaanisqatsi over and over in a deep low voice as per the film. I know beyond any doubt that the world is badly out of balance, out of whack and out of kilter. The madness of the human “dream” is in full flow, justified to itself and thoroughly destructive. Unaware and largely uncaring. Caught up in a ceaseless rhythm of hectic.

The scene changes and I am now in a large open native kayak. There are two boats. We are paddling along the shore past jungle and two large settlements. It could be the sea or it could be a wide part of the Amazon River. We are around twenty metres from the “beach” and the jungle behind. I know we are being tracked and I catch sight of a magnificent jaguar easily keeping pace with our boats, jogging slowly in the forest. She is watching and observing. I can feel her muscles and see through her eyes. She is a totem of THE jaguar shaman, a spirit of the jungle, free and untrammelled. I see back through time to a ritual in a clearing of the jungle where I am enacting the convergence of the jaguar shaman. I have a jaguar pelt on my shoulders. As I enact I become and am the jaguar.

The scene changes to an urban setting; there are a group of people seeking to join or affirm their membership in a wider group. People have been accepted but must now make their public telephone call with their “mentor”. The sense of people wanting to be a part of is strong. I see one black man roughly my age make his call which we can all hear. In that the mentor slowly gets him to submit verbally. I think that this is coercive. Others make their call to belong to the “wonderful” organisation. The do decamps to a large pub near Hampstead Heath. People are queuing out of the door to buy their drinks. The black man is there and his mentor is going to buy him a drink, in a wait your turn fashion. I walk straight up to the bar and buy two pints of beer from one of the bar staff who know me well. I usher to the black man to join me in the beer garden. He follows and I explain that this has been cult like behaviour and he had better get the out sharpish.

The scene changes and the images of and sounds of Koyaanisqatsi close out the dream in a repetitive sequence.

The dream ends.

Radiation – Dying Inside – Iridium – Radiant Dream 24-07-2025

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Here is last night’s dream, a night when I made it all the way through to 5:20 AM without being woken  by my body’s grumbles.

The dream starts in a shop / storage unit which is choc-a-block with scientific instrumentation of various ages and types. They are piled high  and it is difficult to walk down the aisles without tripping over some cable or other. There is a man in a light brown linen overall behind a service desk there. He is in charge of the store. He encourages me to explore and offers me an extension lead distribution box with four UK plug sockets. I can test any instrument that I want.

I find what looks like a seismograph with several needles and data tracks. There is some chart paper in it. I go to plug it in and the paper advance works. I lower one of the data write ink heads. At first there is no line drawn but then the pen starts to work and the needle moves back and forth a little with the channel noise. There is ink. The signal level starts to decrease and decay. In the dream I know this to be a toxic radiation within the heart of someone I thought I knew. I was acquainted with this person but we have not spoken for around twenty years. Something in his heart is decaying and eating him up from the inside. The radiation in his heart is slowly deadly and his inner beingness is dying and decaying because of it. He kind of knows it but is unwilling to do anything about it.

I continue my walk around the store and set off a radiation detector tube. It has some residual power. I take the detector and power supply to the front desk and plug it in. The radiation detector goes off at a high count rate. The man says that I am radioactive and that is why people don’t want anything to do with me. I literally glow and radiate. They do not understand that this is good, light, radiation. He says that it is because of a special isotope of Iridium which I have in me. This isotope was a part of an interstellar meteorite which I found as a young boy. I was out walking in the desert-bush and came upon the Iridium rock. I touched it and incorporated the Iridium. Ever since I have had a radiant radioactivity. I am made of stardust – interstellar Iridium. People are afraid of my radiance.

In my mind’s eye in the dream. I see a young boy finding a small shiny “rock” in a red-brown earthy cupped palm shaped depression in the land. He is wearing a light blue-white checked sleeveless shirt and dark navy-blue shorts. His socks are pulled up to the knee. He picks the rock up and examines it. I know that he too will incorporate the irradiance. As he starts to incorporate, I put my hand on his shoulder and say to him that he is not alone.

I am now back in the shop. The man behind the counter shows me a radiation trace of me versus time. The radiation instead of decaying over time is in fact growing. I am becoming ever more radiant.

The dream ends.

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From Wikipedia

Iridium is a chemical element; it has the symbol Ir and atomic number 77. This very hard, brittle, silvery-white transition metal of the platinum group, is considered the second-densest naturally occurring metal (after osmium) with a density of 22.56 g/cm3 (0.815 lb/cu in) as defined by experimental X-ray crystallography. 191Ir and 193Ir are the only two naturally occurring isotopes of iridium, as well as the only stable isotopes; the latter is the more abundant. It is one of the most corrosion-resistant metals, even at temperatures as high as 2,000 °C (3,630 °F).

Iridium was discovered in 1803 in the acid-insoluble residues of platinum ores by the English chemist Smithson Tennant. The name iridium, derived from the Greek word iris (rainbow), refers to the various colors of its compounds. Iridium is one of the rarest elements in Earth’s crust, with an estimated annual production of only 6,800 kilograms (15,000 lb) in 2023.

The dominant uses of iridium are the metal itself and its alloys, as in high-performance spark plugs, crucibles for recrystallization of semiconductors at high temperatures, and electrodes for the production of chlorine in the chloralkali process. Important compounds of iridium are chlorides and iodides in industrial catalysis. Iridium is a component of some OLEDs.

Iridium is found in meteorites in much higher abundance than in the Earth’s crust. For this reason, the unusually high abundance of iridium in the clay layer at the Cretaceous–Paleogene boundary gave rise to the Alvarez hypothesis that the impact of a massive extraterrestrial object caused the extinction of non-avian dinosaurs and many other species 66 million years ago, now known to be produced by the impact that formed the Chicxulub crater. Similarly, an iridium anomaly in core samples from the Pacific Ocean suggested the Eltanin impact of about 2.5 million years ago.

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Pierro – Miscommunication – Light Through Darkness – Lost Car Dream – 23-07-2025

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Here is last night’s dream.

The dream starts in a very urban setting, next to a large river which is brackish and tidal. There is a very large pub on multiple levels which backs onto the river. It has a feel of a Dickensian smugglers’ pub on the banks of a foggy Thames. The wife and I meet Pierro there on the land side off a normal road. We go inside.

The scene changes and I am now entering the lower levels of the pub from the sea side through a rarely used entrance off the “beach”. I work my way up through the pub looking for Pierro and the wife. Some of the rooms are busy some are not. The pub is very big with many rooms and many bars. In one the barman hands me a half-pewter tankard filled with porter a type of dark beer. Carrying this I continue searching through the pub. I walk through an office drinks party in one bar and a pre-wedding piss up in another. I find them in a wooden bar with benched wooden seating.

I again greet Pierro. He says that he has someone he wants me to meet. They are his cousins from America. He introduces four men who are a bit like the “Deliverance” hill-billies. They are roughly dressed and with poor teeth. They are unwashed and smelly. One of them has fingernails like dog claws. Another has a lazy eye and is wearing a lopsided straw hat. They are all tall, well over six feet and on the skinny side. They look out of place in the urban setting.

I start to speak with them in English, but they respond in French with a very strong creole or patois accent, that is very thick and difficult to understand. It could be Canadian American Indian French or from the deep south of the USA. It is very hard to understand. I speak with them in my attempts at French. It is clear to see that we are having massive, huge, trouble communicating. Communication is very poor between us.

The scene changes to a different urban setting. There are tall dark red brick buildings a bit like those near Kensington High Street and a bit reminiscent of Manchester. There are thin several storey tall, terraced houses and office like accommodation. I am there for a rock concert. Perhaps by Oasis. There is on street car parking with old style parking meters. I pick up my key from reception and go to find the house which I have been allocated, which I am renting. I go inside and dump my bags. I then leave and lock up putting the keys in my pocket. I look at the number on the door so that I can find it amidst all the very similar looking buildings. I can see the number 1347 in large white screw-on numbering. In the dream I think it odd that the house has such a high number.

I then set off to look for my car having forgotten exactly where I parked it. I know that I parked it near here because I used intuition to find then ticket office. I am looking for my old navy-blue Ford Fiesta. I look up and down the streets, down back alleys, in car parks above and below ground. I cannot find the car but am not concerned because it is my old car which I sold many years ago.

The dream ends.

As I am coming to, I note that the dream is about 15 both because of the house number and Pierro. It is about light through or from darkness. I note that this dream is a dreaming symbol dream.

15 is the jewel of awareness light thorugh darkness.

Occam’s Razor and Past Life Recall

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Occam’s razor

In philosophy, Occam’s razor (also spelled Ockham’s razor or Ocham’s razor; Latin: novacula Occami) is the problem-solving principle that recommends searching for explanations constructed with the smallest possible set of elements. It is also known as the principle of parsimony or the law of parsimony (Latin: lex parsimoniae). Attributed to William of Ockham, a 14th-century English philosopher and theologian, it is frequently cited as Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem, which translates as “Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity”, although Occam never used these exact words. Popularly, the principle is sometimes paraphrased as “of two competing theories, the simpler explanation of an entity is to be preferred.”

This philosophical razor advocates that when presented with competing hypotheses about the same prediction and both hypotheses have equal explanatory power, one should prefer the hypothesis that requires the fewest assumptions, and that this is not meant to be a way of choosing between hypotheses that make different predictions. Similarly, in science, Occam’s razor is used as an abductive heuristic in the development of theoretical models rather than as a rigorous arbiter between candidate models.

From Wikipedia

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Last night we watched a 1997 film called “Contact” with Jodie Foster as the main protagonist among a {now} star studded cast. The special effects were naïve by todays’ standards. The film misused the notion of Occam’s Razor; the simplest explanation was that she did indeed travel to a civilisation near Vega. The film argued that this was too convoluted and did not happen whereas the counter explanation of cunning hoax which was way more convoluted and complicated was acceptable and true to the government. A simple inconvenient truth of interstellar travel was rejected in preference for a hyper-complicated adherence to what normal accepted, science and wisdom insisted.

Rules in science are kept, often way past their sell by date, exceptions and first, second and third order corrections terms are added, one must flog the life out of a dead horse rule. “Science” is so conservative that in worshipping at the temple it does not have to get called up to serve in the IDF. Elvis however did national service.

In the blog under the heading “Reincarnation Themed” in the column to the right are collected a number of dreams which are “Ronseal” dreams. A possible explanation is that elements of past life recall are implicated.

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It might be possible to come up with some convoluted psychological hypothesis as to why I had these dreams, maybe invoke some DSM-5-TR defined criteria for some disorder or syndrome. It could be an act of creative writing on my part. I could have smoked way too many spliffs as a young man or simply be a tin-foil hat wearing rainbow unicorn jockey. I could be whacko the nut-job, from Loony-Ville Alabama.

The simplest explanation is that they contain elements of past life recall. Occam’s razor therefore suggests that this is more likely.

Unfortunately past life recall is not deemed possible by some.

If history teaches us anything it is that things deemed impossible, and adamantly so, can and do prove feasible. Once it was deemed mad to suggest Cholera was a water born disease. History suggests that the prevailing THEY are often wrong yet vehement and assertive. They refuse to accept that they could be in error. Power must not be yielded to plebs and upstarts.

The self-diagnosis by THEY of their own omniscience is rarely a sound diagnosis.

Dog – Blood – Pine Marten – Putin Dream 21-07-2025

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Here is last night’s dream, of note is the marked vivid nature of the blood early on. I have not had one like this.

The dream starts in a very British holiday camp setting like a Butlins of old. It is dank and damp outside and I am in communal area with British holiday makers, mostly families. We are waiting for a break in the weather. A TV is playing in the corner high up on the wall. Some people are gathered around Formica tables playing cards. There are children and adolescents on their technology. It seems old-school, old-fashioned, 1970s even.

I go up some stairs to a common room area on the upper level. This leads to chalet rooms. People are sat around and I note a door which has a cardboard box placed in front of it holding it shut. I ask a woman why. She says that it is there to keep them in. I can take a look if I would like but she advises against it. If I do, I should close the door behind me.

I am like others slightly bored by the confinement indoors. I go over to the room and enter closing the door behind me. A medium sized black dog tries to get out as I go in. I shoe it with my foot and enter. I look down and notice that it is badly injured. There are lacerations and cuts. In the dream I know that it is dying and unwell.

Out of nowhere, it seems, a pine marten like animal starts to chase the dog around the room trying to kill it, to bite it on the back of the neck to administer a coup de grâce. The animals chase each other around the room at high speed. The pine marten bites the dog and the dog tries to bite it.

The dog runs into an open cupboard. The pine marten stops in front of me and stands up on its hind legs, it looks me quizzically in the eye. Both the pine marten and I know that it is best for the dog to die. The wounds it received when being hit by a car are not going to heal and will ultimately prove fatal. It is better that the marten quickly finishes the job. I can hear people outside saying that I should trap the marten and let the dog out. The marten knows me and trusts me.

The chase continues. By now the room is filled with vivid bright red blood sprayed everywhere. It comes mostly from the dog. There is more blood than makes sense and it has squirted across my face and arms. The dog gets cornered by the marten and bitten again. The chase continues helter-skelter. Finally the marten has the dog at the back of the neck and holds it until the dog is still. The marten is limping a little after it lets go.

I go out through the door and into a palatine Kremlin like room. Sat at a table in a meeting is Putin. There are Russian politburo members around the table. I go over and say, “Vladimir I need you to summon the vet. Your pine marten is injured next door.” Putin gets up from the table after making a call. We are joined by a vet in a white coat.  I open the door and the marten comes to me. I explain to both Putin and the vet, in Imperial French, that the marten has a problem with its his legs and a lump on its tail. The vet asks me to hold the marten which I do whilst it is examined. The vet find a boiled sweet lozenge entangled in the hair of the marten’s tail. During the process all the marten’s fur has become whiter more like a winter pelt. The vet cuts the lozenge out with some scissors. He shows it to me and throws it into a bin. The vet then wipes the fur of the marten with a cloth soaked in vodka. Putin is beaming with happiness. When I let go the clean marten climbs up my legs and into my arms. It is only slightly hurt. I know in the dream that the pine marten is more than a pine marten, some kind of rare totem.

The dream ends.

On writing this up I think of this…

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Venture Capital – UCL – Dream 20-07-2025.

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Here is last night’s dream, unusually had early in the night ~1 AM. It seems contextually out of the blue.

The dream starts outside a swish urban building similar in style to The Ritz or Berner Kantonalbank, with a partially covered walk way. The feel is European, Germanic or British not French. There is a sense of commerce and business. The building is like a TARDIS much more spacious on the inside than the outsides suggest. It is high rent, posh and opulent.

In the atrium on a meeting area to one side I am sat in an alcove with Mark. There are antique like chairs with coffee tables  arranged facing each other in a semi-circle. Mark is there with his team from the Venture Fund. They are all suited and well dressed. Mark is a bit younger than he would be now. We are discussing the funding opportunities for my project. He is quite enthusiastic. The event we are at is some kind of inventor-investor meet-up.

He stands up and ushers me to follow him. I note that I do not have a suit on simply a white collarless granddad shirt which is immaculately pressed. I cannot see my lower half. I can see the fine grain of the cloth.

He leads me up a grand staircase to the event dining room. In a wall-mirrored room sat around large round “Louis XIV” gilded tables are diners in groups of around a dozen. Mark ushers me to a table where Debbie and Sue are sat. Sue is the far end of the table next to the wall and Debbie is nearer the walkway. She stands up to greet me  and we hug. Sue is more reticent as if she is embarrassed to see me for some reason. Debbie is at the event to promote technology transfer from her university. She is keen to hear what I have been up to. She says that I can stay in her room overnight if I would like. There is a very faint sexual overtone. She is roughly as she was thirty years ago when I last saw her. She addresses me using the nickname “George” which was in use then. She says that if I stay with her, I can get one of the most excellent breakfasts put on by the event. The wanting to feed motif is much stronger than any faint sexual overtone.

I ask her if she recognises the dress I am wearing. In the dream I show her the material of an exquisitely patterned grey floral female dress which I am wearing on my top half. It is very expensive and high quality with petite floral designs interspersed with doves. I say that it used to be her dress. She does not recognise it. She hands me her technology transfer / business development card. I make my excuses and leave the posh event.

As I am leaving the lobby of the building, I see a news broadcast about a man who is promoting cross channel intellectual and business collaborations between France and England. His ‘phone number and email flash up on screen, which I write down on the back of the business card.

I continue out of the building and into a suburban train station car park. It is very dark and raining slightly. I walk over a partially covered bridge over the rails to the station on the other side of the tracks.

The dream ends and seems incongruous.

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  • Mark, Debbie and Sue were in my Chemistry degree class at UCL in the early eighties. I have spoken to Mark on Teams in the last year, before that not for forty years. I have not spoken in person to Debbie for thirty years and Sue for probably forty years.

Castaneda and Neuroscience

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Prompted by the dream the other day I have been having a little look into neuroscience. It seems that there is much interest in using hallucinogens to {perhaps} help with mental health. There is interest in the crossover between dreams and hallucinogenic activity. This from “Frontiers in Neuroscience”.

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In the books of Castaneda, don Juan introduces him to peyote (lophophora williamsii), jimson weed (datura) and magic mushrooms (psylocibin). Castaneda describes some of his outlandish experiences whilst off his trolly. Castaneda wrote a book on “The Art of Dreaming” which perhaps tacitly lies aback much of the Lucid Dreaming genre. One could suggest that Castaneda had an effect on neuroscience and the psychology of dreams. If you look at the graph below from the above article the similarity of psychoactive experience and dream lucidity is correlated with the don Juan substances of choice. Only LSD outperforms the “natural” substances. Cannabis comes close. {Man}

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When I was ill, I was prescribed the MAOI phenelzine which had no psychoactive effects, as far as I could tell. I had one hypertensive crisis at a business dinner in Japan, something iffy with tryamine in the seaweed. Those Nitrogen atoms look receptor ready…hydrogen bonding to the fore.

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“Phenelzine, sold under the brand name Nardil among others, is a non-selective and irreversible monoamine oxidase inhibitor (MAOI) of the hydrazine family which is primarily used as an antidepressant and anxiolytic to treat depression and anxiety. Along with tranylcypromine and isocarboxazid, phenelzine is one of the few non-selective and irreversible MAOIs still in widespread clinical use.”

I used this for probably one year. It is a MAOI to the right of the graph.

I have had limited exposure to magic mushrooms and LSD, over thirty years ago and I stopped smoking week in 1999.

Obviously if one is doing research, it must seem pukka and thoroughly scientific. I doubt anyone acknowledges Castaneda though some may have read him…