Citation: Dramatika. "Reality As an Imagination: An Experience with DMT (unidentified root bark) (exp25799)". Erowid.org. Sep 28, 2004. erowid.org/exp/25799
So, I smoked DMT for the first time earlier today. I've decided to write this up kind of like a lab report, just because that makes the most sense right now.
THE DRUG: It wasn't an extract, it was actually part of the bark from the roots of a tree. The bark had been sitting in a baggy for about a week, so the decreased potency did not allow me to have a full trip. I took two LARGE hits, one after another, from a glass spoon, and each hit was held for about 30 seconds.
THE SETTING: The DMT was smoked with two other people in the room, some friends. The room was fairly dark, as it was a small one person dorm room. There was a small amout of sunlight coming in through the window, but the window was covered by a dark blanket which drowned out almost all light. I sat against the side of the bed, leaning against it. There was a television going though, some news show about the Kobe Bryant rape thing. This turned out to be a mistake, especially since it provided almost all the illumination in the room.
THE EXPERIENCE: I took the first hit, really large, and held it for about 30 seconds. About ten seconds before I exhaled, I was starting to feel the effects. It felt like the wah-wah sound you get from doing a whippit, except instead of feeling like I was in a tunnel, the pulsing was coming from inside every cell in my body. The world around me started to dim a little bit. My friend handed me the pipe again, since there was still a good amount in there. I took a second hit, of comparable size to the first, and held for about 30 seconds. As soon as I was done with the hit, I set down the pipe. The world started fading to black, until all I could see was me, everything I was wearing, the pipe, the lighter, and the little doob-tube we had been using. Now, I was expecting it to be a roller coaster of colors and emotions, and maybe even some dialouge with a superior being. All seemed to be going alright, however, as I was thinking that I would have to fade out before the main part of the trip would start.
I was being pulled towards the ground, into the ground, yet I still had some control over my body. It was like moving while in water, but more so, as if the air was resisting my movements, or possibly as if I was too dissociated to send the commands to my limbs with enough urgency. The wah-wah's became the murmuring of five or six different voices, with definite emotion behind them, but I could not decipher what was being said. The best thing I can think of to describe it is the voice acting from the Sims, only much faster, a bit more enunciated, and more emotion and conviction. Suddenly, more voices started. I couldn't understand what was being said, it was like sitting in a crowded cafeteria. The original voices still had precedence over these new ones though. I could feel the presence of people around me, some people laughing, talking, while others seemed to be intimidated, full of trepidation. Almost every emotion was represented by these voices, except for hatred.
And then I noticed the television. A blue and white glow came from my left side, barely noticable but at the same time impossible to ignore. The voice of the news reporter came in. However, instead of having the somewhat friendly and informative tone that one comes to associate with TV reporters, he sounded dissappointed. A resignedness with an undertone of anger. I felt like something really major had just happened, and it wasn't good. It's the feeling you get when you are driving and hear sirens, or when your girlfriend of 2 years breaks up with you. I then saw a hand appear, and move the lighter, pipe, and tube to the left, into this glowing presence (It was actually my friend moving the stuff to a drawer that was under the TV).
I can sum up exactly what I felt like at this point with two words - 'Oh, fuck...' That was my safety. That was the symbol I could look at and remember, 'It's just a drug.' I thought I was dead. The news kept going, the voice still scolding me. It felt like being scolded by my parents, when I knew I was wrong and had no clever way to duck out and avoid responsibility. This presence, blue and white, glowing, just lecturing me on my life, my views, my mistakes, seeming angry. And with each a word, the collapse just got stronger, the feeling of 'What the fuck have I gotten myself into?' growing, and my being just being metamorphisized into that despair. And then I heard my other friend say something, I don't know what she said, but I heard 'supposed to last?' My two friends faded into existence, but I could still not see anything else. Just me, my friends, and the TV, suspended on a black plane, with a black background. The surroundings started to fade back in slowly. Through all of this, I saw no color, just blue, white, and black, plus my clothes.
At this point, I just wanted to be sober again. I tried to stand, failed, and dug out a cigarette, a lighter, and crawled outside, the memory of the judgemental news dude and the thought 'I just want to be normal' pounding through my head. The room was kind of cold, but outside, in Houston, in the middle of the summer, is hellishly hot. I didn't even care, it felt great. I soon managed to stand again, and couldn't say more than what I felt... 'Holy shit... oh my fucking god that was fucking scary.' I gradually got sober again, no small thanks to water and Adderall. I immediatly took an Adderall after the cigarrette, as speed is pretty much my normal state.
CONCLUSION: Scary as hell, the feeling of having yourself slowly yet surely devoured by a TV is NOT fun. Especially if you were raised baptist. I feel much wiser now, and would be happy to try it again, but this is not a drug to be fucked around with lightly.
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