Mushrooms - P. cubensis & Cannabis
Citation: Jeeeeem. "John Madden as the Devil Beatboxing: An Experience with Mushrooms - P. cubensis & Cannabis (exp58714)". Erowid.org. Mar 23, 2008. erowid.org/exp/58714
My friend was visiting from out of town one beautiful fall saturday. We'd spoken earlier in the week and decided that we would eat mushrooms with my roommate once he got into town. We are both fairly experienced trippers (8-10 mushroom trips apiece, plus acid and mali in varying amounts) so we weren't too worried. I ate a half-eighth of the same (very good) mushrooms the weekend before and had a great time with intense but not too intense visuals open- and closed-eye visuals and a great body high (not to mention an incredibly confusing game of chess ,-) )so I figured we'd have a good time eating generous eighths apiece.
We ordered a pizza and ate them at noon, then went to play basketball at a nearby park. Whenever I eat mushrooms I get the pit in my stomach: a feeling where I'm not exactly about to get sick, but certainly not feeling right as rain. I got the pit almost as soon as I'd finished my second piece of mushroom pizza. I manned up and finished my 1/8 and we set off. Our body highs started within minutes of finishing our portions so we knew we were in for quite a ride. By the time we got to the basketball court, I started to see the beginnings of some hallucinations that were to come.
After playing for about until 12:45 or so, we grew tired of the game and just threw the ball around. I remember very vividly exactly where I went wrong. I was staring at a lichen-covered rock, watching it pulsate and swirl, when I suddenly felt as though I was starting to come up too quickly, that I wasn't really ready for this particular trip. I specifically remember thinking to myself 'I shouldn't have eaten the entire eighth'. As soon as I said this, the sky seemed to darken. I tried to convince myself otherwise, but I couldn't get the negative thought out of my head. I needed to stop tripping. But how?
In retrospect, it was too late to do anything to stop the progression of the trip itself, but I couldn't comprehend that at the time. When we got back to the house, I convinced myself that I was feeling sick to my stomach and that I had to vomit up the mushrooms. I told my more experienced non-tripping friends what I was going to do and they said 'Go for it.' So I went to the bathroom and started ferociously putting my finger down my throat, trying in vain to make myself vomit.
Try as I might, I could not make myself throw up. I was completely crestfallen at the idea of having to go through what was sure to be a bad trip (I'd never had a completely bad one before) so I curled up in the bathtub and started crying and thinking about how much I just wanted to skip past the whole thing. I was only 1hr45min into a trip that seemed to have no end in sight and I couldn't think of any possible way that it could NOT get worse as the effects began to intensify.
When I got myself out of the bathroom, my friend saw the tears on my face and realized so he took me down to our comfortable, pillow-filled, tapestried smoking nook, put on 'Divided Sky' and smoked a couple of bowls with me to calm me down. We relaxed for a bit and the pot took off some of the edge. At this point, however, I was really starting to hallucinate intensely so my respite was short-lived. We went upstairs and my friend and I began watching a football game. I was reunited with one of my tripping partners, but the other had gone off with his girlfriend. By now, we were both very spaced out. If I had to guess, we were about 2hr15min into the trip and the hallucinations were growing more intense.
Suddenly, my conscience kicked in and I realized that I needed to go to an ATM and take out money to pay rent, so I convinced my sober friend to go with me. When I got to the ATM I could not function any longer. I tried putting my card into the machine, but the screen was moving around too much for me to do anything, so my card would keep popping back out. A woman came up behind me while I was staring at the machine and stood there for a minute or two growing obviously more agitated before saying 'Are you going to DO anything or are you just going to stand there?!' I turned around, surprised to find that I was in public and that it wasn't just a light show for me and grunted a quick 'Oh, sorry' and left quickly while my friend just laughed at what had just happened. I tried to count how much money I had, but the numbers on the bills kept changing and I couldn't remember what the last bill I'd seen was. I said 'Fuck it! Here's my wallet. The pin is ******, take out whatever I need' And I scampered off to find my way home.
I know the neighborhood well, but I had no idea where I was and I quickly became panicked, trying to read street signs written in ancient hieroglyphs. I became convinced that people were following me, that at any point a police officer would walk up to me and say 'We saw your little stunt at the ATM.' I made random turns through a cartoon world (it looked just like the animation in Waking Life or A Scanner Darkly) but somehow ended up on my street. At this point I almost completely lost track of time. I sat down to watch the football game with my friend, but there was so much going on around me that I began to feel sick again. I went into the bathroom to try to vomit again and was horrified when the toilet grew larger and larger, as though if I fell forward it would swallow me whole. I stood up when I heard an ambulance outside. My god, had I eaten too much? Were they coming to commit me? I began to hear voices all around me. I heard more and more sirens screaming up to the house. People began to scream 'HELP! HELP! HE TOOK TOO MUCH! CALL AN AMBULANCE!'.
I ran back into the TV room and was reassured when I saw my sober friend sitting there unphased. I sat on the couch and sank into it, like I had merged with it and it was protecting me. For a moment I felt safe, but I looked across the room and saw a sinister-looking plant melt into the floor and start oozing towards me like it was stalking me. I looked away and concentrated on the game, but it stayed in my peripheral vision as long as I could remember.
Football was a terrible choice. To make matters worse, John Madden was commentating. While watching the game, it suddenly stopped and repeated the previous 4 or so seconds, as if it was a DJ scratching. I was puzzled, so I looked at my friends to see if they'd reacted and I realized that it was just me. This terrified me. It must've been half-time when John Madden actually showed his face. I dislike John Madden even when sober, so he became everything that seemed evil to me: he grew horns, turned red with glowing yellow eyes, but all the while remixing and still analyzing the game in the way that only he can. The TV started bouncing up and down, stretching in all directions and spinning.
That is the last thing I remember clearly before I rocketed off. I have no idea whether my eyes were open or shut, whether I was conscious or comatose. I thought at a-mile-a-minute. I remember being absolutely terrified of something, but thinking that I really wouldn't have minded if I was alive or dead, so long as I WAS in some sense of the word. I swirled through space or time or nothing at all. But whatever it was, I was a nonentity. Time was a non-issue and I have no concept at all of how long I was in this state.
When I finally came out of this state of non-being, I tried to see what time it was. The numbers on the digital clock just flew by, hundreds of hours passing every second. I began to think about what I was doing with my life, what my parents would say if they saw me in this state, how I was throwing my life away with drugs. I was overcome with grief and self-pity. More than once I thought 'You know, there is a razor blade in the bathroom...'
Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. I was no longer hallucinating. I still had a body high, but my mind was much clearer. I was exhausted and my throat was extremely sore. At this point, I realized that my tripping partner had been sitting on the couch next to me the entire time. We were completely oblivious to each other. Neither of us could remember clearly what had happened in the past however many minutes.
Over the next couple of days, I had terrible dreams where parts of the trip would come back to me and I would awake in a cold sweat, remembering the terror I felt. Despite the fear I felt at the time, and the fear I still have of tripping that hard again, I am glad that I did it. I felt as though I reached the limit and returned unscathed (except for a sore throat). Plus, I got to see John Madden beat-box ,-D
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