Citation: Gonzo. "Songs of the Whale: An Experience with Mushrooms & Cannabis (exp81829)". Erowid.org. Mar 23, 2010. erowid.org/exp/81829
Well for some this may serve as a warning, and for others, it may just be some lulzy reading. Either way I thought I'd share an expirence I had a while ago before I knew the real face of mushrooms.
I had obtained an eighth of some really amazing spotted mushrooms from a good friend of mine, with his assurances that these were very powerful indeed. Another friend of mine, and we'll call him Z, bought an eighth with me as well. That day we had not done much having spent all our money on marijuana and mushrooms. Neither of us ate anything that day really, but this is relevant later. Later that night, around 10PM, we decided over a haze of marijuana smoke to eat all the mushrooms we bought and go skateboarding, to which we proceeded to do but not before heading to the pantry. Inside were these two bottles of vitamin C tablets, each tablet having 833% DV of Vitamin C. Bingo! It was our great idea to eat two of these tablets each, wash em down with orange juice, and then precede to wash down our mushrooms with cut oranges. Talk about getting your daily c!
So after ingesting that psycho-citrus cocktail, me and Z headed out onto the hill my house stood, longboards in hand, and grins from ear to ear from the thought that soon we'd be both fried out of our minds!!! We skated around all the neighborhoods and hills in my area and got back to my house in about 15 minutes, after deciding that we were both tired of skateboarding. Heading back to the house I could feel the noise in my stomach, also seeing faint trails of light coming off lights outside peoples houses. At this point I KNEW I was in for a super intense trip! But then it had hit me: I hadn't eaten all day, so I just ate all that shit on a completely empty stomach!
We arrived at my house and I fumbled with keys which began to take on a water look in the light, and managed to insert it into the door so as to let my self in. Me and Z got inside, for some reason, each holding back bubbling laughter making the most exaggerated expressions over this dual realization. We managed to get to the couch in our effort to restrain our almost-laughter, as my mom was sleeping up stairs for the night. As I sat down on the couch I realized what was happening to my perception of the world around me. The wooden entertainment center in front of me, so normal straight and square, began to squeeze inward as if pushed by gravity, and then back to normal, breathing in intervals.
I looked at Z, and we tried to talk but each attempt was met with more almost-laughter, and it was getting useless to even try and attempt to communicate anything. So then we spent a little while flipping though useless programming on tv and laughing maniacally at mundane things. The expression on the face of a newscaster reporting sent us into hysterics, as well as William Shatner on those travel commercials. He had actually convinced me in that 30 sec. that I could get low fares by seducing travel agents with back rubs and quirky lines. Like, more certain than I have ever been. It was frightening, which is why I don't like commercials when I trip; I take them WAY too seriously.
So after 20 minutes of this TV induced hysteria, Z says that he's gonna go home for the night, which relived me because I thought I might be able to relax without kackling like a madman. I saw him out and walked back into my living room, where shit began to get really fucked up. As I sat down, I turned the tv off, rather to focus on the entertainment center which was now stretching, concave style towards the ceiling and merging with it almost like ivy. Every time I looked away it stopped, but soon as I turned around it would, sure enough, begin to grow and sprout again. 'THIS IS TOO MUCH' I began thinking to myself. At that moment I went over to my dog in an effort to feel some sort of living vibration thinking he would cure these super intense vibes from the ivy entrainment center.
I walked over to where he was laying, and all around his silhouette raidatied these multicolored lines echoing out into space. It seemed to be his life force or something, or maybe an aura. But whatever, I went over to him and sat there petting him and talking to him about my life and how I was happy that in the weird painting of life we were companions of sorts. I could see in his eyes that he understood me completely, and then I realized that we were not communicating in our transfer of words but rather in sounds and emotions, rather thoughts attached to those words. Like ESP or something, it was cool.
But he was laying down and falling asleep eventually, so I figured I'd leave him alone and retreat upstairs to my room to finish off the trip drawing and listening to excellent music. 'OH THE FUCKING MUSIC!' my brain shouted at the thought of my zune. At this point I had absolutely no re-collection of where in the hell I may have put it or if I even brought it hope, which led me into this maddening frustration with myself that I hadn't planned this experience out better (in retrospect, I had never eaten an eighth before, hindsight is 20/20). So I was sitting in my room listening to this voice babbling in my head absolute gibberish I could not understand, and then my voice intermittently saying things like 'you forgot the music you fuck!' and 'DUDE what the FUCK? YOU FUCKED UP!'.
So at this point I just said, whatever. This sucks. I NEED music. So I got up and performed the most impressive search my room, producing an old CD player, headphones, and 2 cd's. But the selection was so baffling, that I thought the cosmos were mocking my peril. One was 'Cat Stevens-greatest hits' and the other was a mix cd I made of whale calls named 'Songs of the Whale'. Whatever, at least I had music, right? I popped the Cat Stevens cd into the player. Normally I wouldn't mind this, not that I like Cat Stevens - its bearable, but for some reason it seemed as though Cat Stevens well planned lines were a cosmically planned joke, mocking my lack of better entrainment. And so I listened to 3 seconds of each track to see if it was good, but all of them freaked me out, except for 'Peace Train' which was pretty cool. But it was DEFINETLY worn out by then.
So I decided I'd give 'Songs of the Whale' a go, thinking at the very least I'd be in the ocean with a bunch of whales. Bit that wasn't even the half of it. Not only could I see the whales in my mind writing in the near freezing southern sea, but I could understand every noise they were making. They were moaning because they were all hungry and couldn't find any food, and they just kept moaning and moaning. And I went crazy thinking about how much pain these whales were going through starving like that and that how I couldn't help them, that I turned off the cd player and put it away. I was in a TERRIBLE mood at this point for some reason, watching the room morph and the corners of walls fractal away from me. I began tripping so hard seeing blue and red dots making up a multicolored black and white stating filtering into my reality like a creeping fog and it all just became too much.
I started feeling terrible stomach pains and a gut-wrenching feeling. I managed to move my self out of bed, onto the floor next it (and believe me this was a FEAT at this point). I grabbed a hat nearby and proceeded to vomit violently into it, splashing a little on my arms. But at this point I did not care one bit, and wiped the vomit on my carpet and got back in the bed, and to the saftey of the covers.
My mind began racing about how I was feeling so high that I might just merge with the universe. For some reason I felt that smoking some weed would help everything out. Rather it just made all the visuals more outstanding and sped up my heart rate to an alarming pace. Now at this point I was terribly frightened that I was about to have a heart attack, or an anuresym or something, just with so much energy flowing through my system. I debated going to get my mom to call 911 so they could take me away and make this all stop, and sat there for a while almost sweating and hallucinating like an abstract painting museum. I managed to prop my self up into a 'I can handle this if I try. If I get my mom and 911 involved I WILL die' which managed to straighten me out in the mean time. So I grabbed the Cat Stevens cd and listened to peace train on repeat attempting to lull myself to sleep, and it was workin pretty well but 'Peace Train' was just too groovy to sleep to by the 100th time, so I put all that clatter away.
I sat there in silence, listening to the rambling gibberish of my mind seeming to speak in tongues to me and eventually ebbed into a state of semi-dreaming/tripping. I know I had some crazy dreams, but while I was having them I could not tell if I was actually sleeping or dreaming or anything. Like I would see all these crazy image bubbles floating around in my head or other weird shit like that.
By 9am the next morning, my mom had left the house for work, shortly there after I awoke, with utter joy and the realization that I was STILL ALIVE! and a bit tripped out still, haha. But it was a new day rising and I felt more alive than ever. I went into my back yard to feel the dew in the grass between my bare toes, and stare at the intricacies of nature that surrounded me; The robin on the bird feeder, tulips in the garden, every individual blade of grass. I was ALIVE and I had the wind in my lungs!
This reinforced my belief that a bad trip can be constructive to a person. I think it does a good job at making you very conscious and aware of the preciousness of life and the relativity of perception. And it makes me laugh in hindsight to think of how hard I was on myself about the music. Cat Stevens was really bad for tripping though, no joke.
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