Citation: A Part Apart. "A Pleasant Series of Visions: An Experience with Fasting (36 hours) & Salvia divinorum (exp54651)". Erowid.org. Jan 5, 2009. erowid.org/exp/54651
I decided to try combining fasting and salvia, though with the exception of noting I couldn't find a 'self' from which hunger could emerge, I did not get much of an effect from the former. Perhaps a longer fast and meditation is necessary to have more of a calm centered experience, rather than a roller-coaster of thoughts, images, and feelings.
[silence] I feel the effects begin to hit. I draw one last hit and set the pipe down in an ashtray on the floor beside the lighter. A chorus of voices calls to me, reminding me to move back to the chair, a quick leap brings me there in an instant. I still here them, more feel them than anything, one female voice standing out particularly. I close my eyes and see two of them, vague white goatish forms, unfold a tunnel for me. I begin to follow its sinuous path, but become slightly impatient, asking when I will be at the Center. The female voice speaks to a silent companion, “He needs to open his eyes and see something first,” and I do. I have an interesting body sensation I recognize of that which I perceived of as tunnels with eyes closed. I can understand why many people interpret this as a pushing or pulling force, especially with eyes open. It is much gentler and flowing with eyes closed. With eyes open I feel like my body is undergoing some sort of energy flux. I feel charged.
I close my eyes again and see space, colored red, green, and yellow akin to the Digital Blasphemy wallpaper I use on my desktop from time to time. The white space in the distance calls to me, but on the way there another portal opens up, pulling me in. I bend out of it and see it from the side. It bears a strong resemblance in shape to the conical vortex I saw on my last salvia trip, though this time its texture is that of a grid with rainbow colors flowing down it. There are many more of these tunnels, a whole field of them, which expands in all directions. I contemplate a woman on a beach holding a grain of sand, the smallest piece of the fractal of reality. This reality is contained with a larger grain of sand that another woman is holding, within another, etc. I note that the whole salvia experience is rather odd, and serves as a pretty good metaphor for how something is never quite what you expect it to be. I open my eyes and check on the room/Waking World. I record the trip and get music ready for the next.
[music- infected mushroom, squarepusher, underworld] I feel a complete immersion in another reality. The presence of my body ebbs, fading to a faint glow. The same voices call me, though this time without intelligible words, and I enter the tunnels. I reflect that I do not need these fairy beings to help me understand the experience, they are pleasant, though unnecessary projections. Dismissed, my view widens to encompass the outside of the tunnel, which is actually part of a larger collection of tunnels, side by side as a fabric on a large flowing loom. The move like water, sliding over walled surfaces.
One tunnel opens up and goes through a series of transformations ending in the form of a plant. Its leaves unfold till a white purple swirl remains in the center. The mist hardens into a dark green stalk topped with a bud I recognize to be a head. I ask it what is has to show me. It shifts into sharp triangles, yellow eyes opening, sharpened by the triangular edge between them. She opens her mouth and out comes a mist of energy, barely within the visible spectrum. I follow its motions, inadvertently flowing into it. I notice my eyelids are see-through and that by moving my hands I can control the colors projected upon them.
At this point I note the patterns that form on the inside of my eyelids as a result of the shit floating around inside my eyeball. The technical name fails to come to mind, though I accept the fact that though naming something gives one power to invoke it, it can still be described to one’s own mind without words. Also, saying “Those floaty things you see when you close your eyes,” while not particularly eloquent, does get the point across. I decide I’ve seen enough cool colors - I want to see nature. I am in a forest. Sitting among the trees are brownish grey entities with almond white eyes. I contemplate why the human mind is so eager to project human-like entities. I decide to become one of the queer looking figures. I suddenly realize they have no limbs and are in reality rocks. I try to move, but somehow understand that I need to stay put for a bit to allow nature to grow.
I watch as the verdant foliage encases my vision. I banish all of this. The only thing that remains is the white, slightly purplish void that composes reality. The faint lines of two large eyes form before me, reminding me of a photo I toke about a year and half ago. They stair, unblinking, un-judging, simply Being. They multiply into many eyes, while somehow simultaneously remaining as two. I interpret this as the center of the psyche from which the id arises. I pose several questions aloud to myself, though forget what they were or whether they were answered.
I notice that I feel no hunger, can locate no place inside myself from where it would emanate. I go fold in on myself looking inward till I reach a heart center. There is an artichoke like form here, pulsating yellow, green, and red. I feel my phantom limbs pulse with life as it pulses. I reflect on the salvia experience wondering why I always feel pulled towards my destination. Let’s feel pull! I see myself in the third-person. A yellow tunnel sucks into my forming a hole in my abdomen. I transform into a flower, now a petal on the flower, now I have a body and am standing on the petal of the flower.
This is followed by more colors and shapes of much less impressive nature, seemingly disconnected from anything. One of them was a cube with a silver frame around its edges. I close my eyes tightly and see impossible blues and greens. I open my eyes as the last song ends and begin recording the experience, noting how odd the room I left feels. The sensation of pushing the pen against the paper is quite odd.
Though some of the transitions in the description appear sudden, all of them were fluid and made sense. Very dreamlike and enjoyable. As a side note I've found that practicing dream-recall with a journal next to my bed and an extra thirty minutes to float in and out of the Dreaming World every morning greatly aids in making sense/order of salvia trips.
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