Citation: SullenChoirboy. "Twitching Buds of Lust-Pain-Matricide: An Experience with H.B. Woodrose (exp21266)". Erowid.org. Feb 15, 2003. erowid.org/exp/21266
Wednesday night I decided to test some HBWR seeds. It had been roughly 8 months since my last attempts with LSA, most of which were unsuccessful and all of which were with Morning Glories. I really wasn't expecting much, but I was curious as to how different I'd find it after a bit more psychedelic education and experience since last use.
The day of the trip was focused and relaxed, as they always should be. I had to wait a while for my one comfortable tripspace to clear so I watched Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas at my computer. Shortly before 12 AM, near halfway through the movie, my cohabitants dragged themselves to bed and my den became available, so I ate 6 preshaved HBWR seeds. I continued to watch the movie while I waited for onset. My only previous meal for the day was a plate of ribs four hours earlier, though in hindsight, one really should fast for an impending LSA trip.
Something like half an hour later, body load was taking hold in typical LSA fashion. Fortunately, I had a bag of supplies which included a cigar. I've found tobacco to be a miracle cure for drug-related body loads and nausea, so I stepped outside and took several hits, and my suffering quickly subsided. There was an excitement in the air, something I noted in my first LSA trip. It's a pleasant electric high. I soon extinguished my flame and went back to watch the movie in peace.
Things progressed from here. I was reminded of one time I took a small dose of jurema and tried to watch this very same movie. The on-screen events began to get more confusing and chaotic. I was losing interest by the time body load came back in force, probably an hour after dosing. Once again, I remedied with lovely nicotine and cold soothing winds on my bare skin.
I then tried to finish the movie, but I quickly realized that I'd much rather find a more comfortable setting. I sat in my dark den and listened to Shpongle's Tales of the Inexpressible on the cd player. Nausea wouldn't stay at bay for as long this time. I was only able to find solace in the most still of positions on the couch, lying on my back, head propped up, unmoving. Smoking a couple bowls of 'Merlin's Blend' herbal smoke propelled me into a dreamy and hazy relaxation. I started drifting away to the soundtrack of beautiful psychedelic pulses and phasers. There was a strong body high.
As time and the album progressed, my conscious mind was split in two. Initially, the visual reality presided over my head, but a boundless dream world began stirring and begged to take over. I first noted this when I heard the sample of McKenna speaking of walls crawling with geometric hallucination. It was as if one eye projected such hallucinations while the other held fast to waking reality.
My more presumptuous eye's efforts were futile in the end because the dream world gained control. My trip was gaining momentum and I kept slipping into dreams. Motion trails were now quite pronounced. I feared that I might fall asleep, unfortunately, so I had to keep myself awake so as to not be discovered in a drugged state when morning came. This was an unpleasant realization because even the slightest movement sent waves of paralyzing body load and nausea throughout my body.
Nevertheless, I decided to leave glorious Shpongle and comfortable couch together in order to keep myself conscious in the glow of my soul-sucking PC machine. Here, I listened to The Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour and started drawing in Paintbrush. I was out of my head at this time, not realizing what I was doing. I was sucked into a divine mission of manifesting these throbbing, profane visual projections into digital reality. The trip was quickly turning into something not quite as pleasant as before, starting as soon as I began on this drawing, yet I was forced to continue.
My body and mind sunk into worse and worse states during this time, which lasted a couple of hours. I felt very sick. My thought processes were increasingly negative. The worst of all this was a very disturbing occurrence in my stomach. A sudden contraction came about there, feeling as if this particular organ suddenly folded in half. This nearly choked me as I coughed and gasped for air.
I wasn't comfortable here, by all means, but fear and a rising case of tunnel vision kept me staring and working intently. The body high was turning into muscle cramps and stiffness. My acid reflux was overly active. It was physically quite painful, and I was finding that the emotional suffering was only just beginning. At 4 AM, four hours after dosing and two hours into my awful art session, I think I really started to peak.
This is is my usual bedtime, always allowing me plenty of time to safely venture up to my room before others wake up for work and the sunrise peeks in to exhaust all sins of the night. I shut off the computer and began to collect my things. I was lost in a void of psychedelic disassociation at this point. I walked through each room several times, forgetting that I had already been through and feeling very confused.
I eventually got all of the incriminating materials that I'd spread out during the night into my backpack and it was time to retreat to my bedroom, but I wouldn't be so fortunate. The muscle cramps were near-paralyzing, but it was the freshly manifested auditory hallucinations that kept me frightened and unmoving. I couldn't come anywhere near the staircase due to this paranoia. Instead, I opted to sit on my couch and calm myself in order to try again. I put all of my effort into relaxing myself and smoothing out my breathing, but no amount of focus would bring success.
This went on until the clock struck 5 AM. I knew that I was in certain trouble now. My parents would be descending to my area very soon. I realized my only chance was to hide under a blanket and pretend to be asleep. I was very scared and kept visualizing all the screaming and general conflict that would come once I was discovered in this state of profuse sweating and large pupils.
I lie still waiting. What would become of me? I was lost in the discord of an infinite flux of infantile hard-ons and twitching buds of lust-pain-matricide. I closed my eyes and saw shifting kaleidoscopic views of strange creatures, fracturing and screeching in primal, painful language. Demonic owls belted out flanging Hoo Hoo's as I aligned myself with tragedy. I looked towards the television to find my sanity. It looked as it always did, but the sounds coming from it were not in a language I knew. Auditory hallucinations were very strong. All I could hear was incoherent grunts and babbling laid over perfect recordings of music I'd heard that day.
I was in despair. I very much wanted to calm myself, but my breathing was hopelessly erratic and the burning of my insides was all too much for me. If I made it through this, I decided, I would have to change my life. I would have to stop putting myself through such suffering. Intently I searched the planes for better ways and new highways of my-ways. I made all sorts of false promises to myself, as if to bargain for the reception of my sanity. I was caught in loops of thinking, all focused on finding sanity, sobriety, peace, and comfort. I thought there had to be a way. It didn't seem right that 6 HBWR seeds, which is listed as a 'medium' dosage on Erowid.org would have this strong of an effect, especially when I considered myself an LSA hardhead.
I did manage to pull through this. It was difficult, but through mindless chanting I was able to convince myself that it was going to be alright. 'This is for the best,' I repeated to myself. 'This is necessary,' and I started to believe it. I realized I could learn from whatever came and that this would probably turn out to be an incognito blessing for my wretched self. I began to feel a lot less pessimistic at this point. I might even say I had become anxious to receive my punishment. All I had to do was wait.
So I did. I won't go into the details of the following events, but I became paranoid again and lost the optimism. I had very strong auditory hallucinations, moderate to strong CEVs and OEVs, and one hell of a disgusting feeling in my body. At 10 AM, having somehow safely made it through the barrage of physical, emotional, and social obstacles, my trip was quiet and it was time to try to sleep it off. I vomited for a few minutes and headed off to bed. I managed to sleep for a few hours.
When I woke, I felt much like how I did after the first bad trip I had with LSA. My head ached and I felt feverish. I couldn't eat for fear of immediate regurgitation. This all lasted a few days. It's been five days since this experience and I am still having trouble sleeping. I'm not keeping the ridiculous promises I made to myself, but I do feel glad to be alive, if not a little confused and a lot less sure of necessary upcoming plans.
I've had two exceptionally bad trips in my psychedelic career, both with LSA. The depths of despair it can put me in are frightening. I'm still relatively new to psychedelics and still experimenting to find what I like. These awful LSA experiments certainly don't seem worth repeating. I feel strange now. Still, despite all the ills of this experience, I've learned in my maturing into adulthood to be grateful for every moment and learn from each accordingly. It is not entirely regret that I feel now, just a little confusion. Maybe I just need to find my way.
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