How you can help

My friend was sad and down on his luck, so he sat at the bar to drink his last buck. I went over and said to him dearly, the bottle is not the answer, clearly. He grimaced and winced at the thought of sobriety, what with all the pain and blasted anxiety. But he humored me as I took him away, deep into the jungle of Peru next day. I stripped the vine and chopped the leaf, and boiled it together to smite his grief. I handed him a cup, he looked and froze, squinted at the pungent smell that rose. What is this liquid that for me you drew? Why my dear friend, it's entheogen brew. It's a traditional medicine used for healing, and I dare say it's quite revealing. So he gulped it all, all at once, and soon he felt much like a dunce. Geometric shapes appeared and danced, in front of his eyes and closed, a trance. My god, he exclaimed, in a voice far matured. My problems are gone, I'm finally cured!

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