Confessions From The Golden Flower
First Confession

I remember how Viviane offered me that little piece of hash-cookie. I had just taken posession of my new plush offices overlooking the lake of Geneva. There I was, first day brand new in the job, discussing with Viviane, my secretary, the planning for the day. She was a kind of butch-dykie girl with a whimsical sense of humor - and seemingly very efficient in her job.

At one time during the conversation, Viviane brought out what looked like half of a chocolate chip cookie. She held this out and asked if I wanted some. "What is it Viviane!?" I asked. "Oh, just a bit of hash-cookie! You'll like it!"

It was my very first encounter with the "Marijuha" as the peasant folks called it in that part of the world. Not wanting to appear too ignorant concerning this issue ( we are looking at 1965) I took the cookie and ate it. Viviane watched me while I ingested this gift, smiling and happy. A little while later she left me alone in my office.

I was sitting behind this huge desk in an armchair. Nothing on the desk. Just a phone and some flowers. The cookie I just ate had a somewhat bitter-sweet, somewhat stale taste to it. A number of my friends where avid smokers of the stuff. I had tried it once - just a puff on a joint. With not much result. So, I wondered, what can a little cookie bring?

I began to arrange some papers in the drawers, look into some folders to familiarize myself with some of the work at hand. When suddenly I felt this 'prickling' sensation in my wrists. A cool bubbling sensation flowing slowly upwards my fore arms. At first, I kind of sat straight up in the armchair. With my arms resting, feeling the strange thing creeping higher and higher up. Pulsing also in my throat. I began to feel ill - kind of things sliding from under me.

Inch by inch I slid down in my armchair. What to do!? How to handle this? It was coming down on me like an avalanche. I was getting submerged from all sides. Should I call Viviane? Call for help? In the meantime I was feeling outright sick. Panic seizures and very sick. A wild desire to throw up - and so it went straight into the waste paper basket. ( Gee! What will they think when they'll find that in the basket!)

There I was, having slid entirely from the chair under the desk. I figured I might make it on all fours to the wardrobes in the corner. Open the door and creep inside to lie down on my back. An idea that seemed to promise relieve, but at the same time anguish: "What will I say if someone opens those doors here and sees me lying on the floor!?"

Never the less and in spite the anguish I began to feel a bit better. But only to encounter yet another spell of nausea coming on. Once more I crept on all fours across the room, back to the waste paper basket - et hop - rendered to Neptune what was due to some goddess within the marijuana complex! Now sweating all over and my heartbeat racing I could just muster enough force to climb back up on the armchair and managed to dial Diane's number. "Diane please come and take me home! I am not well at all!"

Minutes later my hash angel did come in, smiling. Taking me by the hand she led me down a series of stairs into the open. The moment that fresh air was blowing into my face IT hit me! Looking up into the filigreed crowns of the century old trees I kept exclaiming: "Oh look Diane! It's all so beautiful! So luminous! Have you ever seen this!?"

Diane had a hard time to pull me by the hand towards her car. I was like a child in trance, seeing the world for the first time: "Look Diane! All these colors!" But Diane, with her matter-of-fact, practical sense had but one thing in mind: To get me to my hotel room as fast as possible.

We finally arrived at the Intercontinental. I was glad to see that bed. Viviane helped me to take off my shoes. For a moment she was standing at the foot end of the bed. Smiling. Observing me for a moment before leaving the room. Looking at her, she suddenly kind of "morphed" into a most attractive woman. I was slowly floating into a state of bliss which began to center around my getting an erection.

There was this general feeling of pulsating power all around me - and then like a bright blue ceiling lowering itself down on me, taking posession of my tool; slowly going up and down in this increasing pulsating fashion. It was heaven! I could not believe such a thing is possible - it felt so good. After two long hours the goddess claimed her tribute!

I tried to figure out how I could obtain proof and make sure that it was not just a wonderful, very real dream. So I took my little dictating mashine lying on my night table and I spoke into it: "If you hear this it was true!"

And it was!