Iwanttoaskya Slim: Drugs, Real Estate and Multilayered Synchronicities

My name is Iwanttoaskya Slim and I have a story to tell.  I’m a real estate man! Real estate is my business.  Yet, I have other curiosities…interests, pursuits.  Like all great individuals I strive to be better than the next; to assert myself on the playing field of life.  When I learned of the mind expanding powers of Ayahuasca I voyaged deep into the forest and asked to be part of a sacred session.  So what if this drug was popularized in the last century by tourists and I clearly am trying to escape my mundane mid class life for a higher plane of altered reality?

Let me tell you a story of how my life changed once I started doing hallucinogens of an unknown power prepared by people that are not trained and have no understanding of the chemicals they are administering to people.

The time was 4pm. I was of course preparing for my evening shamanistic session when my phone rang.  Now, I was supposed to be entering a contemplative and meditative state so that my journey to the netherworld of my inner mind would be smooth and valuable.  I mean, have you ever shown up to the River Styx without a shilling to cross with? Awwwwkkwwarrdd…so i answer the phone expecting to be derailed from my quasi introspective state and in fact I was.

A man asked me to show him a house that was a great distance from my comfortably expensive Williamsburg abode.  I struggled with the decision, but in the end, I am a real estate man and real estate is my business.  I arrived groggy from the shweed (sweet heady weed), but prepared to fully engage this youthful and wealthy man looking to “get away from it all” by moving 5 minutes outside of Manhattan.  He enjoyed the space and asked if I needed a ride back.  His limo and super model wife were parked outside and could deliver me back to my dingy carpet of zen where I can be at peace with my instruments and pitbull פנים יפות (translates ‘pleasant face’).

When I slump in the car I immediately begin to feel a vibe.  I won’t go into any details on the kind of vibe because I wouldn’t want you to take me for one of those weirdos.  When the man chats me up about his travels I am compelled to stupidly say I am going to be “traveling” myself tonight.  Oh? He says.  Yes, I say…traveling with a shaman.  Oh, you know Trevor? He says.  What’s this?  I think…how on earth could this man possibly know my shaman?  Magic.  Now before you judge me kind reader hear me out.  Mr. Bored Moneybags here is telling me that tomorrow night the session is being held no where else but his current house.  Good god, what an uncanny magical moment.  I have to go home and meditate on this I think.

That night as I drink the divine wine of the gentrified shaman I remember I have a story to tell.  I borrow the ear od the assistant to the shaman and begin to tell him the story when he stops me.  Go no further! He says.  But why?  Slim.  He says.  I live across the hall from that very room you were showing.


It turns out that I end up leaving my bed at iSlim’s apartment and have to go back for it at 11:30pm.  He is of course enraged that I could possibly disturb him at this hour and throws my bag at me.  The probablem with escaping reality is that there is no such thing and eventually you have to come crashing back to deal with the real world.  Sorry Slim, I needed my laptop back.

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