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Implosion of the Universe
Citation:   Plazma. "Implosion of the Universe: An Experience with 5-MeO-DMT (exp18198)". Oct 15, 2002.

25 mg insufflated 5-MeO-DMT (powder / crystals)

That's three letters spelling a four letter word.

But are you sure?

The universe is enclosed in a hard shell the size of a pea, under high pressure. Now imagine placing that within the middle of your brain. Now detonate it. Then imagine you're at the middle of an atomic implosion, the entire universe returning to something the size of a pea. Rushing in faster than speed itself, and its all within your head.

There's very little point in attempting to describe 5-MeO-DMT in a rational fashion. Any trip report that tried to encompass what 5-MeO-DMT feels like, would come across as word salad. Its such an all encompassing feeling, and yet a nothingness. If God is the concept of a being which is in some way able to be all seeing, all knowing, and all encompassing, present in everything, and yet present in nothing. Then perhaps you could describe 5-MeO-DMT as experiencing what GOD is. Except you are merely human, without the ability to withstand such a sensory assault with your dignity and 'self' intact.

Before I presumed that I was a humble man.

I did not understand the meaning of the word.

Now, and only now, can I be truly humble.


I remember that the line seemed to be pretty large. It was sitting on the RATM - Evil Empire CD case. I tore a strip off a paper form and rolled it up. I inhaled.

First thought 'FUCK that hurts'.

I'll lie down, listen to some music, I hit 'play' on my iBook, listen to Deep Dish's essential mix. I think I can feel it a bit. I feel a bit dissapointed because I can feel that I'm at a level similar to my last experience with 5-MeO-DMT. The shaddowy illusory hint of halluciations dance at the edges of my vision, occasionally flitting across. Its like things have an extra shadow.

Then it hit.

The ceiling is one of those 'textured' ones, with a kind of cement coloured artificial sand texture. I can suddenly remember looking at a kaleidoscopic range of patterns appear across my vision on the ceiling, swirling, expanding, contracting, twisting. The primary pattern was one of a whirlpool shaped thing, which was subdivided with heaps of tiny squares, that spun. All not actually producing any change in my vision, except for the extrusion of them from the substance that was the ceiling. I lost all but the most basic motor skills, I walked like a reeling drunkard to the bathroom, because as I muttered after yelling for my tripsitter A, I felt nausous. I presume this was because of the horrible taste of the drip, but then I just needed to puke, taste itself did not exist.

That was only the beginning.

I went down a whirlwind trip in which everything was somehow related and textured by most of the events of the past 24 hours or so. I couldn't think cohesively at all, in fact, incoherence was something of an understatement. I slipped outside of time, for me, there was no such thing as time, because I was at the same time everything and nothing in the whole universe. I was an eternity and I was a second.

In actuality, what I was, was lying in the corner of our bathroom, uttering low moans and the occasional high pitched wail. I did speak coherently a few times, but it was mainly such drivel as 'faaaaaaark!'. I did say at one point, or recall saying 'this is too intense for any words'. I was spitting copious amounts of spit into the toilet bowl, and my ever tolerant tripsitter, lets call him A, was sitting on the edge of the bath, but somehow he had 3 eyes, and far too many teeth and was altogether NOT what he should ordinarily look like. I can recall seeing EVERYTHING in a kind of visual state not unlike a lagging mouse on an LCD screen, where there's little replicas of the cursor that follow it around, trailing. My whole vision was somewhat like that, everything doubled up and duplicated and exponentially turned into clutter which crowded in on me. Whenever I closed my eyes for some kind of resbite, I was hit by this swirling kaleidoscope of the most incredible beauty (I say that now), mainly the same pattern as I saw on the roof, but with its own colours, predomenantly red and white.

I experienced the most incredible feeling of complete and utter primal fear, any pretensions were stripped away. I was like a chicken, pecking at the egg, pecking, pecking pecking, and then when finally it sees the outside world, there is a great boot there, poised to crush it. I wished I'd never done it, I knew the line was too big, I knew I shouldn't have been so stupid. I knew I'd overdosed, I was dying right there on the floor of the fucking bathroom.

Then I vomited. Now can you imagine vomiting up the dark, the bile, the evil within your soul. This vomit was a purging of all that was bad within me, leaving only goodness and light. This bile didn't have a taste, just this acid sensation on my throat, calling to mind the burn of the 5-MeO-DMT in my nostrils, it was dark and I just sat there and retched, again, and again, and again, purging my soul of all evil and darknesss. I choked, I thought I would suffocate, I was messy, I was a newborn babe, helpless and defenceless. My ego was nothing, I was nothing. Everything which I held dear had been reduced, at best, to an abstract idea, I had no idea what language really was, nor any ability to use it, humour was something to chuckle at, a silly abstract idea, except that I did not know how. I was 'the moment' and I was trapped within it.

Once I'd stopped vomiting, the trip became altogether more pleasurable, reduced somewhat in intensity. The visuals still had this amazingly chaotic feeling, as if they were moving faster than the eye could see, and I was only catching a 10th of them. I can remember A taking the opportunity to do some strange things, just to trip me out, but in a good way. 'To me, this is Listerine mouthwash, to you... it is GOD', that sort of thing. Then the toilet got flushed. I've never heard a sound quite as loud as that, I wondered if it would swallow up the whole house.

I am unsure of the time period, because after a while of my companion doing strange things like walking hunched up on the floor and talking gibberish to me (which at the time, I recall being detatchedly amused at, I had lost any point of reference, like humour was merely an abstract idea) I was able to stand up. Then I moved back out to my pillow on the floor in the livingroom, I am unsure of how long I lay there for, before I got up, and got my waterbottle. The trip was virtually over, except for one article of much amusement. I said to A, 'the only trip report that could describe this would be word soup', but then had to clarify that I meant 'word soup' as opposed to the word 'soup', as in S U O P. This caused a bit of amusement for A, and as he said 'The master of words just spelled soup, suop...' I laughed, that seemed to sum it up.

In analysis, this trip shouldn't be approached lightly by ANYONE. It is a complete annihalation of self, of any relevance. Its like having your brain wiped clean, and being left with only a vague memory of who you are/were, at the same time being under the most incredibly intense onslaught of sensory (mainly visual) stimuli. It is euphoric at times, I recall saying 'I never want to come back down, but I wouldn't know it if I didn't', or something to that tune at one point. It is terrifying at times, and I wanted to cry, but I'd forgotten how, I wanted to scream and moan and wail, but I was aware that if I was too noisy, there would be some kind of retribution (a basic warning about being discovered? I'm not sure). I was absolutely nothing but a sensory perceiver, stuck within the split seconds that were eternity.

On the whole, the word 'experience' seems to apply. Its neither negative, nor positive. It isn't that its neutral, its just that it is amazing, both amazingly terrifying and amazingly beautiful. For me, my trip had a very religious overtone (which those who know me will find quite strange, because I'm the biggest atheist around), simply along the lines of being 'god' for a time, but not being equipped to cope with the assault of stimuli.

I'll never forget this as long as I live, and I think I will be better for it.

Exp Year: 2002ExpID: 18198
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Oct 15, 2002Views: 56,380
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5-MeO-DMT (58) : Small Group (2-9) (17), Guides / Sitters (39), General (1)

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