Under that Watchful Eye...
Yohimbe, Morning Glory & Wild Lettuce (L. canadensis)
Citation: The Scarlet Panama. "Under that Watchful Eye...: An Experience with Yohimbe, Morning Glory & Wild Lettuce (L. canadensis) (exp14072)". Erowid.org. Oct 3, 2004. erowid.org/exp/14072
| T+ 0:59
| T+ 0:45
||Lactuca - L. canadensis
||(tar / resin)
| T+ 0:59
||Lactuca - L. canadensis
||(tar / resin)
Whewee! I'm experiencing a somewhat surprisingly pleasant afterglow considering I went so nuts with the naturals following an exhausting and uniquely inebriating state which I'd be reluctant to repeat at such doses. Curiosity, perhaps, didn't kill the cat but it sure knocked the little bugger on it's ass...
It started as a fairly normal, mundane day. I'd arrived home after a day's hard work with a heavy feeling of ennui - I had nothing planned for the evening and tried in vain to think of something. Nothing. Until I eyed the glass apothecaries in my room, memories of a few alchemical stints I'd been playing around with.
So after ensuring that my gut was empty and the cat was safely outside I dropped what must have roughly been half a gram of alcoholic yohimbe tincture (a dropper full?). I sat around, enjoying the pleasant stimulation and overfilled erectile chambers, but this soon grew boring. I foraged around my room for a little more entertainment... Bingo! Some leftover Morning Glory (Heavenly Blues). Feeling that I'd already subjected myself to one lot of foul tasting shit, I thought another load wouldn't hurt. I chewed them in two portions, with a liberal serving of Irn-Bru (a mild citrus beverage with caffeine) and cleaned my teeth to remove the horrid little pieces of seed stuck between my teeth. No time for floss - I'm already feeling the effects. I was apprehensive abouth the effects, knowing that if I were feeling this degree of intoxication now, where the hell would I be when this free fall reached terminal velocity?
I heaved myself upstairs to my room in my lethargic psychedelic-speedballed state and flopped onto my bed, contemplating what would happen next. I was expecting nausea, but thankfully this never manifested. I suppose I should be thankful for small blessings....
After around 45 minutes of lying on my bed, enjoying a mid-level trip, I put on my Pink Floyd singles collection and enjoyed Arnold Layne's company. By this time, my room was tinted an obscure green, straight lines were wavering, and the patterns on the wall were squirming around each other seductively. Physically, I was enjoying where I was. Until the leg cramps started.
I squirmed with the snakey patterns. I wriggled and fidgeted, stretched and contorted myself. Not wanting to alter my consciousness further at this point, but seeing no other choice, I smoked a fine line of semigranular lettuce opium extract I'd made just a week ago. I'd yet to try it, but hey, this was a night for new experiences, so no need for a control test.
Wanting to feel cool, like perhaps a Mark Renton or that idiot from Velvet Goldmine, I brandished a piece of tinfoil and tore it in two: I constructed a crude 'pipe' with one half of the foil, and used the other half for the burning. It burned quite rapidly, faster than I'd anticipated, so I cooked up a little and missed the first wave of smoke, but managed to get most of it down. Sweetish taste (I can't compare it to opium as some have, because I'd never tried it), no spluttering or coughing.
This little opus kicked the experience into overdrive. I held the smoke for perhaps ten to fifteen seconds and as soon as I exhaled, the room became a glowing gelatin shrine. My computer carcasses began to smile and sing, the ceiling pulsated and strobed, and the lilt of 'Careful with that Axe, Eugene' echoed through my head. I watched as my tinkertoys and gadgets sprouted animate, crystalline fractal tendrils, my old booze bottles resonated with delight. I laid back and closed my eyes; molten, amorphous slime intertwined with space invaders, playing a game of ethereal Pong. My mind was probably playing tricks on me at that time (wonder why!?), because I'd swear I heard one space invader inquire 'what's the score?' with another little digital creature answering 'it matters not, we are jazz and cream'.
This is where it all started to become a little quirky. With no music on, and wondering how to entertain myself next, I opened my eyes. I looked towards my lightbulb, and there it was - the eye. I'd encountered it before, always with a little suspicion as to its purpose. Why did the little hummingbirds playing with my synapses create these? I left the matter for the time being and played around with my computer.
I couldn't help myself looking towards my door. Not specifically the door, but the handle; in fact it was the keyhole. Something was there, lurking, skulking, awaiting my proximity.
I crept over to the keyhole and peered through.
What I saw next made me yelp.. literally: Something was looking through the door, spying on me. While yelping I leapt back, and then, realising the lameness of what I'd just done, broke out into uncontrollable laughter, and floated back to my computer. I was tring to make a little progress with one of my pipedreams - a computer game that I'm developing - and by now I had quite a brainstorming session going. But something was still there. The eye - its magenta & turquoise iris and its teeny, tiny pupil, staring at me. An interdimensional Peeping Tom, and however much I tried to dismiss the thought as absurdity, I just couldn't concentrate. Normally I don't have a problem, except when the little eye comes along. Otherworldly espionage in the realm of software development mayhap? Interdimensional plagiarism?
It had to stop. It was growing annoying and putting a bit of a damper on my otherwise fine trip.
I sat on my bed and indulged in another smelted line of lactucarium, adding a nice relaxation to the trip. I was beginning to feel sleepy, and so I retired for the night, enjoying the remaining twinkle of the MG and yohimbe (no, I didn't lie in my bed and jerk off). This is where things became a little sketchy - probably the third wierdest dream I'd ever had (the best ones were experienced during a three-month course of fluoxetine!). A floating, concrete edifice, I swam toward and climbed the edge. My companion (he/she? can't remember) started leading me somewhere - through a labyrinthine network of steel grilles and concrete crawlspaces. I fell out somewhere and landed in a tree. I could see a resplendent, enormous maypole beneath me with red & white barber stripes. There was a ribbon swinging my way, so I grabbed it and was catapulted through the air, twisting and turning, watching the world below me spin as I fell clumsily back to earth with a thud.
We then went for a meal. Lobster bake (not my favourite.) So I tucked into my (!) lobster, and cracked the shell, exposing guess what... That fucking eye again. Now the little f*cker's invading my dreams. I promptly stabbed it with a fork. That was when I woke up, trying to figure out what the hell had happened. I felt, however, that I'd had closure - that the eye now knew not to be so intrusive and that my mind could rest easy, knowing that any further bio-cameras could be dealt with using swift and exacting expedience at the hands of cutlery. That's satisfaction.
It's now 19 hours later, and I haven't seen a single suspicious looking eye yet. But I know how to deal with them. And so I conclude - the fact that I do have a few secrets in my life makes me feel a little insecure - I enjoy privacy and hate Peeping Toms. I think this experience shows that even the smallest facets of one's psyche can be completely exaggerated with the use of psychedelic drugs - I'm not a recluse by any means and I'm fairly open and frank with my thoughts. It's called being facetious (in my case, anyway). There were moments when I felt like a true paranoiac, however. Psychedelic drugs can be an enlightening tool even if used by the most emotionally fragile of people, but they can expose the little chinks of people's personalities. It's wonderful to see this in friends and loved ones, knowing that you've come to know them better. But it's a double-edged sword...
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