DOSE:	3 g	oral	Mushrooms - P. cubensis	(dried)
	9 g	oral	Mushrooms - P. cubensis	(tea)
			Cannabis

BODY WEIGHT:

191 lb

When I was a young lad, around sixteen, I acquired some cubensis mushrooms in a random fashion. My weed-dealer at the time was selling a selection of different goodies in different cooler-boxes in his truck. I called him up for some fine cannabis (as I usually did) and he showed up to my friend's house in prompt time (as he usually did). Except this time he grabbed my order from the wrong cooler. In a wrapped up bag, a bag of shrooms may look an awful lot like just another bag of smoke...

Back upstairs, in my buddies living room, we were just finishing up the last joint of the previous batch of herb (we didn't miss a beat!) when I remembered that I haven't yet eye-fucked my new batch! My guy always had the dankest bud around, so I was used to not having to inspect his deliveries. Looking was for pure pleasure with this dude- no need to make sure you weren't getting some expensive-ass oregano.

But something seemed off right away. The familiar sweet-skunk smell was usually pouring abundantly out of my pocket by this point and it was weirdly absent. I pulled out the bag and unrolled it. I had never seen magic mushrooms before this but I knew damn well it was sitting on the table in front of me. my friend and I lost our collective shit! Like we won the lottery or something! I hesitated to call my dope man back for fear he may take away my precious! But, alas, there was still the matter of empty weed-jars to attend to....

'Dude, uh, I think you may have given me the wrong bag...' I said nervously into my giant cell-phone (this was back when nextels roamed the earth). 'Oh really? What surprise did you get?' He knowingly shot back. Apparently, he did this a few times today. 'I think you gave me some shrooms dude!' And then immediately into the save: 'I still want that other bag, but is there any chance I could keep this one too? how much does this shit fetch anyway?' I waited for the death blow- I thought the rarity of this product rendered it available only to the rich. For sure I could not afford...'Same price, man' He said.

That began one of the best days ever. We hung out at my outdoor grow-op, we saw a helicopter dropping packages with parachutes into the deep woods (which we never found), we tore up the neighborhood like bastards and topped it all off watching a big green UFO for almost an hour hover over a sod-farm. It was one of those days that just seemed unreal.

Fast forward 12 years later... I moved from new York to Mississippi and I'm 28. Save for a couple small doses here and there separated by years, that was really my last real experience with the mighty mushroom. I always mention to look out for fungus to everyone I hang around. But It just always seemed elusive.

So I decided to try my hand at cultivating P. Cubensis. Now, I've grown cannabis off and on for as long as I can remember, but that had no translation into mycology. It took me quite a while to get the hang of it. Frustrating conflicting information from book to book, from internet how-to, to the next was always a constant headache. I eventually got the swing of things and was off to the races.

My first successful mushroom crops consisted of an albino B+ and the old school 'PF classic'. Most of which I gave away to friends who were more anxious than I was to shove these little buggers in their face-holes. I couldn't wait to go back to that magical night. Or so I thought.

I decided I would pull out all the stops. I would make a strong tea and also eat some dried B+. I had already made spore-prints and given everyone more than enough to enjoy. They have had their fun, the next batch of spores was waiting on my go. I have done my job. It was time to get to the point.

The first work/errand-free day I had would be the big day. I was going through a lot at the time. Work, family, really life in general was a bit of a mess. I was in no set OR setting for fungus. But, after all that work I was not in the mood for patience. I figured it would help get me out of this funk. This stressed out state of mind would be destroyed by the mushroom warrior! Well, I was sort of right...

For whatever reason, I thought the tea would be too mellow if I didn't use more material than I would if I was just eating it. I figured about 9 grams should do the trick (what the ever-loving fuck was I thinking?). And then, I figured: ' I'll eat 3 grams of dried material, and wash it down with the tea!' Mind you, I haven't taken mushrooms in about a decade or so. So I was kind of doomed from the start.

The rain was coming down like a cosmic bucket of water being dumped on my house. I wasn't going anywhere. Any notion I may have entertained the night before about walking around in the forest trails were dashed. I would be staying in. I got up, ate the foul but familiar tasting fruit-bodies and washed it down with a bitter-tasting but surprisingly not-horrible tea. I got in the shower and prepared to play a bunch of playstation....

That didn't happen at all. My feeble attempts to remember the controls on one game or another were useless, and I couldn't concentrate on this silly blob of light that my TV screen was quickly deteriorating into. The come on was violent and rapid. The trip began with vivid colors and evolved into full-on cartoon insanity. Breathing walls, shifting floor patterns, stretching paintings and an electronic buzzing noise that grew more intense as the seconds passed.

I laid on the bed and twitched about, uncomfortable and shivering. This was not what I remembered at all. We only shared an eighth between the two of us back then, and here I am a decade plus later taking 7 times that amount! I laid there and wondered about what possible nightmare lay waiting for me. Its snarling and gnashing teeth begging to tear into my brain and destroy any sense of normalcy I may have clung on to. The buzzing noise drew closer and closer and CLOSER AND CLOSER until: *POP*-Something popped out of the top of my skull and flew into space. I don't know what it was, but I felt as if the dread and loathing had been chased away for the time. I felt as though some entity had 'bought' some sanity for me. Like something had seen my soul broken and battered in the psychedelic desert, and given me a cool drink of clean water. I felt renewed and safe. I drifted off in my mind.

I was in a big grass field and there was a couple of kids off in the distance on the outer edge of this field. I could see them talking and passing a joint back and forth. 'How did I get here?' was not a question I could seem to ask myself. I was in a dream of sorts, and I wasn't at all lucidly aware. I tried to go over to them and I guess say hi or something but I couldn't seem to decrease the distance between us. No matter how fast I shuffled I couldn't get any closer to these two teen-age looking guys. Then it occurred to me: I'm looking at myself and my old friend Sean. this was that night. I certainly got back to that night alright!

I stood awestruck at my apparent time-traveling abilities. I knew something was up. I became way too aware of what was going on. I was off in my own head, having the grandest of hallucinations. I was amazed and scared out of my mind. I had done my share of hallucinogens, from lsd to peyote to salvia to 2cI and all in between, but I have absolutely never gone off like this before. I was in uncharted territory to say the very least.

I looked down at my feet expecting to see more grass, and saw only leaves. Orange and red and brown, fall colors. When I looked back up, I was in the woods and there was a small, blonde-headed boy sitting on a log crying. I could actually get closer, and I felt kind of sober. I clearly felt a strong sense of de ja vu. I had been here before, and I felt terrified to guess at the boy's identity.

I asked the boy hesitantly for his name. When he looked up I no longer needed to. He was me. 8 years old. I immediately burst into tears. I remembered. I remembered everything. I had run away from this memory forever. I remembered the beatings, the savage, brutal beatings I had suffered though at the hands of my father.

This was the place I would run to when my dad would drink. He would kick the crap out of my brothers and I on a whim. My mom would eventually get us away from that terrible existence, but it had certainly left scars. Both physical and mental. The boy told me a joke I hadn't thought of in years about a farmer telling the time by handling his goat's balls. My grandfather told me the joke when I was really young. I laughed not so much at the joke, but at the whole scenario in general. I began contemplating what was happening. And with that thought-I was back in bed. a little bit of vomit was on my shirt and the sheets. My face was sore with tears. I was still chuckling, bemused. I've been healing ever since. Thank you so much, mr. cubensis. Thank you.

Exp Year: 2014	ExpID: 103672
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 28
Published: Jan 10, 2023	Views: 228
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Mushrooms - P. cubensis (66) : Entities / Beings (37), General (1), Alone (16)