Interesting. Many of the same things you mention about Buddhism (and others) bother me too.

I took LSD for the first time, May Day, 1967, as a 19yo college freshman. It was something I'd become interested in through LOOK and Life magazines articles before it was made illegal. September 1966, LSD wasn't as commonly found on campuses as it would be a year or two later. It took a while to find someone who knew someone. I was introduced to a graduate student in mathematics. Being a teenager, he seemed very "adult" to me. But he was also a very…

If there is a single reason why I'm considering writing for The Trip, it is this composition. I read it some months ago but, although I enjoyed it, didn't give it a lot of thought. Coming upon it again more recently I realized something: That honest "Nothing at all really" at the end, is the Bindu of everything we are. And that ain't nothing.

Without going into any detail, around age 50 I discovered that it was possible for two men to love one another deeply and yet be totally wrong for each other. We found ourselves in a mutually (but not at all intentionally) abusive relationship where each harmed the other simply by being himself. What he most needed from me wasn't something I was able to give; and vice versa. The abuse between us was never physical (to the extent he was physically abusive, it was always self-directed; mine was directed at inanimate objects). Rather, the abuse was emotional and psychological. What we both needed was a much deeper understanding of ourselves. Sadly we weren't able to find that with one another.

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ƒ Michael Wells, “Reverberations” 2005, Oil on Aluminum 18x72". Private collection.

I’m sitting here, Wednesday afternoon, January 29, 2020, typing my first Medium contribution. At this moment, I can’t say with certainty that I will continue publishing on the Medium platform. I’ve been thinking about it, vacillating between my hermetic introversion on one hand and the impulse to engage creatively with a literate community on the other. I’m only writing this, now, because I’ve already picked up a few followers, mostly from comments I’ve left here and there, and it seems only fair to say something more than the ‘brief bio’ Medium allows.

Thus, everything that follows may be regarded as…

ƒ Michael Wells

Originally an Indiana farm boy with a mystical bent & homosexual libido, living such a varied and complex life for over 70 years, even I can’t make sense of it.

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