Mushrooms - P. cubensis
Citation: Tokey The Bear. "The Contorted Little Wonders: An Experience with Mushrooms - P. cubensis (exp14596)". Erowid.org. Sep 16, 2005. erowid.org/exp/14596
I'm seventeen years old; not what you'd call experienced, but not what you'd call amaeture either. I've done my share of psychoactives, and each experience was it's own seperate river that I rowed down by myself into oblivion.
It started in my bedroom. With nobody home and the PM hours creeping by, I sat alone at the computer, wondering what I was missing. Not really missing the world outside of my room, but the inner world. The world inside me, the world inside you, and each individual world that we all keep inside of us. I decided at about 11:15 pm that I'd like to take a little voyage to my higher knowledge...A vast forest of endless deciduous trees and babbling brooks that scattered themselves amongst the forest floor; a peaceful and serene place that I could simply lay flat on my back in, staring up, alone on a distant and beautiful planet.
I'd obtained some of the most potent mushrooms I've ever done in my life about a week earlier, and with only seven left, I said fuck it. I chewed each one individually for about five minutes each, gulping down each one with love. I don't know about all of you who say mushrooms are so terrible-tasting. They really don't bother me.
I felt the effects gently tugging at my pantleg at about midnight, ten minutes after chewing and ingesting the seventh mushroom. The only way I can describe what I saw is sitting about ten feet farther away from everything, but still being able to do what you're doing. Like my field of vision expanded and my depth-perception pushed everything away from my eyes.
About ten minutes after that, I decided to turn on the TV. I don't know if you're the same kind of person as I am, but when I'm bored and nobody's talking to me but me, I really piss myself off. Like one side of me explains everything to the other side, like a dumb stepmom that tells you shit you either already know or don't want to know. Example: 'Wow! It's really, really rainy out! Come look at the rain! Come look! Look, hurry! Look at the rain!' You just want to bitchslap the person, because odds are, you know it's fuckin' raining and you couldn't give a shit less. But alas, I cannot bitchslap my mind, so I did the alternative.
About fifteen minutes later, I found myself staring at MTV Cribs, possibly the most annoying show on earth, not understanding a damn word P. Diddy was saying about his stupid Cadillac with 'Gangsta-Rappa' painted on it from one of his 'thug brutha's'. I don't mean to come off racist or anything, but I am a critical son of a bitch when I'm high. Do you notice how you can point out bad acting on a movie or a sitcom when you're on weed?
I muted the TV and glanced at my bedsheet. I keep a camo blanket over the bedspread because...uh..just because. It was teeming with life. The camoflauche itself moved around like little color-coded bodies of germs attacked one-another, and I giggled and watched the fight. I looked up at the TV, which was not only much smaller looking than normal, but actually seemed hundreds of feet away. As a matter of fact, everything seemed smaller. Or I seemed bigger.
I stared around, a giant in the middle of a subterranian city, with a vail of stalagtites above my head which disabled me from sitting up on the bed, and a comfortable cloud I sprawled myself upon below. I didn't mind sharing it with all of my hallucinations, which were actually interacting with me/eachother quite profusely. I loved every second of it. I watched a clay person (refer to Tool's Schism or Parabola video) hop around innocently and point at things in my room, wide-eyed, like that of a small child in a playpen full of toys. At one point I actually brought my face down toward it because it enticed me to come closer. It reached a little smooth hand up and brushed my cheek. Almost immidiately I felt very cold. Not uncomfortably, or devilishly cold like the kind you feel when scary shit goes down, but a tingling, relaxing cold that washed away my earthly pains. Like my whole body was a third degree burn, and soothing water came crashing upon me like a wave at the beach.
The clay figure waved goodbye to me and slowly dissipated as it walked toward the edge of my bed. I felt extreme, and really unnecessary sorrow over the little one leaving me. But alas, he reappeared time and time again later on. Including at about 1:00 AM when I went to my cupboard for whatever reason, saw him catch his balance as I yanking a drawer open. He waved at me, and I think where his little mouth should have been, dimples tugged backward in a sign of glee.
I also saw many other things that night, including one that really spooked me for a minute. I walked to the livingroom to turn on the heater, when suddenly the couch stetched out of proportion and I had the crazy idea that it would tear open and my parents would've killed me when they came home on monday. I leaped onto the couch screaming 'Remember the Alamo!!' in a very intense manner. But fuck, I was a man on a mission. ;-)
I slept like a rock on heroin for the rest of the night. I lay in bed, remembering nothing but sweet thoughts of my encounter with the clay entity, who taught me a lot about my inner self. It is so amazing how the brilliant human mind can take such a complex, purplexing message and send it from the unsconscious mind to the conscious, manifesting such a great thing into such a small representation. Let me translate: I think it was amazing how my inner/higher-self showed me my true thoughts through such a simple little hallucination.
I'll take it with me forever. Sing as you row down the brook in your very own forest, in your very own world, in your very own self. It will be much more pleasureable. And for god's sake, don't try sewing a couch back together with a toothbrush and dental floss.
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