Citation: LikeAChampion. "Malicious Chicken: An Experience with Salvia divinorum (54X Extract) (exp81837)". Erowid.org. Jan 17, 2018. erowid.org/exp/81837
I was in my basement which is a good place to start just about anything, in my experience. I had procured a gram of salvia for some first-timer friends and myself. A roommate and her boyfriend at the time decided to join us, so including a sober standby we had about 5 people present. We hadn't planned too terribly much other than smoking salvia for the evening, which turned out to be a good thing.
I had a few ciders (3 tops) and was halfway through one when we decided it was time. I was sitting on my roomie's mattress (she lived in the basement at the time) and set my cider down by my feet. I was enjoying a fair buzz, not having eaten much of anything all day due to the crippling poverty that is student life. A friend produced a small pipe that had never been used and we packed a modest bowl of salvia for three of us to smoke (one person decided to remain an observer).
Things started fairly typically at first (disconnection from reality, difficulty with spatial relations, constant extrapolation of ideas without being too terribly talkative, etc) and I proceeded into the depths of my psyche with the sensation that my body extended to the entire room and I was aware of my perceptions in an all together different way. It was a physical extension, like riding a bike, that allowed me to sense people and things that were near or related to the space I was in without really being able to describe how.
My comrades were in a similar, though more talkative, state and cavorted and lazed around the bed. My roommate was unimpressed until she closed her eyes at which point she began describing closed eye hallucinations that were incredibly beautiful. She described another world, a place where there were friends and family but it was somehow different and everything was very colorful.
I became aware of the cider I had yet to finish sitting at my feet. There were small, betty-boop-like cartoonish animals parading in loincloths and brandishing spears as they danced in perfect timing to some unheard music. I acknowledged them with a nod and they bowed to me without breaking time and in perfect unison. My cat wandered in and did a little soft-shoe routine, which she ended by winking and then went on to unceremoniously groom herself. I exploded into riotous laughter with my roommate's boyfriend who said he had seen the exact same thing. When the cat failed to continue to entertain I became slightly irritated and called for more cat dances. She (being a cat) ignored me and continued grooming herself before laying down facing away from us. I distinctly remember saying 'No more dancing, then? Well, fine! Fuck you cat! Fuck you with a garden hose!' At which point, my roomate's boyfriend became very quiet and then erupted into more insane laughter. I asked him what was so funny and he remarked that in the backyard near the garden he had seen my yellow garden hose earlier that day and had just felt his consciousness transferred to that hose for a few moments and couldnt stop thinking about his face at the end of that rubberized snake-like body, grinning like a fiend. I laughed at this with him and my roommate mumbled a few things about the luscious grass in her new world as she entered a more prone position.
I looked back to the cartoon animals who were still zealously guarding my cider and dancing with a wonderful sense of satisfaction and flattery that these little creatures had devoted themselves so totally to ensuring that my alcoholic beverage remained safe. No sooner did I reach the height of my satisfaction than a hideous chicken with an unfathomably long neck lashed out at the cartoon guardians and then thought better of the strike as they broke their dance to ready their spears and call out at it in shrill, bizarre voices. The chicken's appearance lasted maybe two seconds, but it enraged me that a malicious beast would dare interfere with the protectors of my drink. I snapped my head around to see where the awful neck ended but in the blur of turning, the thing had vanished completely and there was only the petrified visage of our sober standby. The look of horror she gave me I doubt I will ever forget. In a threatening voice I was surprised to find was my own I plainly asked her 'Where in the goddamn hellfuck did that fucking chicken slither to?' to which she responded (like a good standby) 'There is no chicken, we are miles from poultry of any sort. You are inebriated in a warm, safe place with people who love you. You sound like you might be angry. Would you like to talk about it?' I bluntly informed her that I did not at the moment and that finding that chicken was of the utmost importance, but if she said that it was gone then that was just as well.
I relaxed myself and pushed away thoughts of violence (which I doubt I could have acted on, I could barely stand) to find myself being carried through a river that conformed to the walls of a tunnel and oscillated the most beautiful purple and orange lights. The bed became a boat and our speed picked up, which set me to giggling uncontrollably for a minute or two.
I sobered up with my comrades and the standby confessed the chicken may actually have been her arm as she reached out to keep me from spilling my drink. We had a good laugh about the whole thing and have done it many times since.
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