DOSE: T+ 0:00	3.5 g	oral	Mushrooms	(dried)
T+ 1:00	1 glass	oral	Alcohol - Beer/Wine	(liquid)
T+ 2:00	1 bowl	smoked	Cannabis	(flowers)
T+ 2:30	1 cig.	smoked	Tobacco - Cigarettes	(plant material)

BODY WEIGHT:

155 lb

My most profound trip occurred with a standard yet mere eighth of an ounce of ordinary to below average mushrooms. This was a couple years ago. I knew they were below average because I had sampled the batch before. I was and am a fairly experienced psychadelics users

The stage was my historic New England beach town on a cool summer night. The thing about living by the beach is it is always cool at night. My parents were selling the house and moving to the city. I decided to kick off the years spent living there with a bang – namely a trip.

The plan was to take the mushrooms at night, walk twenty minutes to the sea, sit for an hour or so until the trip began, ponder the black waves, and proceed from there. I ate my eighth, pulled on my favorite hoodie and took the scenic walk to the beach.

I sat on the sand with anticipation. I waited for half an hour. Nothing. I waited for half an hour more. Nothing. Why were they not working? Normally I feel at least a little bit of the come up by the thirty to sixty minute mark. I ran into some high school acquaintances and college buddies. I told them of my intended journey and they were all very enthusiastic for me. We hung out together for an hour and I had a beer. I lied and told them I was starting to feel it. When they said they were leaving, they asked if I wanted a ride. At this point, I figured the mushrooms were bunk. Last time this batch didn’t work very well, and so I concluded my dream of a beachside trip was not to come to fruition. I accepted their ride back to my house with resignation.

Back at home, I was determined to not to give up on the possibility of tripping by combining the mushrooms with some weed. I took my marijuana downstairs to my basement. I packed a bowl and smoked it. Afterwords I felt high but I was not tripping. I tried to convince myself that I was tripping but I wasn’t – no, just stoned.

By now it was two and a half hours after eating the things. Suddenly I remembered – cigarettes! The first time I tripped – also on mushrooms – I had felt nothing until I potentiated it with cigarettes. That time, as soon as I took a drag of a cigarette – also my first time taking tobacco – I was kicked into psychedelia. I went upstairs and grabbed my pack of “all-natural” tobacco cigarettes. I smoked one.

Done! The concrete floor turned to a writhing sea of dirt marks and spots. Dots of grime and cracks in the surface were indistinguishable from undulating hallucinated patterns. Moreover, I could not tell if the organicness of the patterns I was viewing was a product of the drugs or really existed. From looking at concrete sober, I think it’s a little of both. Concrete is probably my favorite thing to look at while tripping. Concentrating on natural dirt over man-made material gives me a feeling of chasing a vision more elusive than any other.

At this stage I was probably a ++ level on the Shulgin scale. Good, but not great. My thoughts were still stuck in the earthly realm. I went upstairs and watched drivel on TV. In my devolving brain, even the shows I previously liked proved to be garbage like the rest. However, I was feeling the lethargy of coming up – despite already tripping – so I didn’t want to move from my sofa. It was a weird trip.

I felt a negative energy come from the crap television and the mere ++ tripping. Then a brilliant idea struck me. “Wait a minute,” I said to myself, “You are already tripping. Tripping is simply the unchaining of the mind. You have had your chains released, now you may do the rest. You can trip as hard as you want.”

“OK,” I thought back to myself. I concentrated on tripping harder, and within moments the T.V. was melting. The faces on the T.V. looked liked they were made of wax under a flame, and the T.V. itself looked like it was from a painting. I had never experienced this type of visual before. It was very powerful, and it made me very uncomfortable. This was probably three to three and a half hours after ingestion.

It was time to leave the dark TV room of bad vibes. I went to the living room and turned on all the lights. The room was painted yellow. I would later rename this room “The Yellow Room” and the television room “The Purple Room,” and of course all the other downstairs rooms also creatively received such color themed names. I was certainly tripping much harder. Television had turned incoherent, but my mental thoughts were incredibly vivid and imaginative. I got out a sheet of paper and a pencil and decided to see what I could do with it. With all the creative energy going through my head I decided to write a story. However, in my new state of mind, I decided that the old separation of writing and drawing was arbitrary. Letters and pictures are both symbols of equal value. Therefore, I made it a point in my “story” to infuse it with drawings to the point where neither was primary and both were complementary. I got halfway through before giving up. (Looking at the sheet of paper the next day, I realized that while a good idea conceptually, my story-art was garbage.) Well, time for less strenuous activities!

Trip as hard as I want to. That was the mantra and the theme of the trip. I was doing so and was in near ecstatic reverie at the limitless possibilities that had opened before me. That I was willing this trip was even more exciting. I drew a line on paper. If I was tripping as hard as I wanted to I decided I could control my visuals. My aim was to take this line, and mentally bend it so that it created a circle. I stared at that line for a good five minutes, almost perspiring with mental effort. At first it bended a little. Then it made a “C” shape. The closer I got to making a circle, the harder it got. Finally, with a fairly deep “C” before me, but unable to complete the circle, I stopped. I collapsed laughing. “Oh well, that’s good enough!” I would say I was a +++ at least at this point.

Next it was time to play some piano. I tried playing some classical pieces I knew, but my dexterity was compromised so that I was unable to play satisfactorily. I decided to make up something. When I compose, I often like playing atonal, dark music. Eventually, I settled in on such a rhythm. I was indeed dark, and in my tripping state almost hypnotic. Playing such a dark tune rhythmically over and over worried me. What if I was conjuring up the devil? What if a demon infected me to play this tune, this special summoning song that would bring the devil forth? This was a grave concern of mine. Whilst playing, I realized that I must have faith. God is more powerful than the devil, and as long as I have faith in God, the devil can do me no harm. With this realization, the crisis was averted, but I decided it a good idea to stop playing piano.

After banging on the piano and walking around downstairs , (naming all the rooms by color and emotion evoked – such as the yellow living room was The Yellow Room and symbolized contentedness,) I decided to cut my parents a break with the noise and go upstairs to my room. It was late, but looking at the clock, (which I explicitly had tried to avoid doing,) I saw that less time had passed than I had thought. Upstairs my trip continued, but inside my head, instead of with the environment.

I lay on my bed. The bed was not comfortable so I lay on my carpet. I had mild closed eye visuals, but for me on mushrooms generally, most of the visuals are open eyed. One rather strange thing happened to me. I lay thinking about my girlfriend, and erotic thoughts naturally came into my mind. I thought about her and about naked women. I was turned on. “I can trip as hard as I want,” I again thought. “I can be turned on by anything I want.” I closed my eyes. I thought about my girlfriend and shifted my thoughts towards abstractions. Eventually I produced a series of colored squares gliding laterally across my field of vision. I am not lying when I say that these squares turned me on. They turned me on because I had previously decided them to. What it is like to find a geometric object erotic is hard to say. However, I still remember what they looked like to this day, although I no longer find them sexually appealing.

Later, with my eyes still closed, I let my thoughts wander until my mind became naturally still. Eventually my mind started to fall in on itself. The sensation could be described either as moving forwards or falling downwards – I suppose both are equivalent when you have no preference of direction. In any case, the deeper I moved, the more of myself I shed. I felt my namesake disappearing, though “I” remained. As my consciousness fell deeper, my thoughts discussed the fact that I am a dual identity. I am the person that is my namesake, and I am also the sentient consciousness that comes from my brain processes. The former is my identity, but the latter is more primary, and in fact, not often seen by most people, at least not seen by their identity. As I fell deeper these thoughts fell away. I was going towards my unfettered consciousness and as such, mental thoughts produced by the superstructural namesake could not reach here. I finally reached it. In my vision it was a white electric ball. I almost touched it. It – that is “I.” Nothing but I. In spatial reference to my brain, “I” seemed to be in the center of it. In any case, I was at “I.” I almost touched the primordial me, but did not out of fear. And then, just as quickly as I encountered this marvelous site, I started receding. I fell back, back, back to the moon through the sky, and then back to my bedroom.

I spent the rest of the twilight hours listening to music on my laptop and mulling over things as one does when one comes down. I think between the drawing and seeing my consciousness I had reached a ++++. Luckily, treats were in store for me yet. As I lay listening to the music in the dawn, staring at my light fixture, periodically yet unpredictably there would erupt from the light fixture a firecracker of psychedelic lights. Moreover, the music morphed and blended with my ears and with my body. It sounded softer and louder, here and there, from inside my body and from without. Though I was not cognizant of it at the time, I believe this would be characterized as synaesthesia, as the visual, tactile, and aural were all connected.

Normally on mushrooms I feel that the trip is too short. I do not remember when I fell asleep, but I do remember feeling that the trip was long enough. This trip was a good trip. This was my most profound trip.

Exp Year: 2006	ExpID: 83436
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 20
Published: Jan 5, 2020	Views: 748
[ View PDF (to print) ] [ View LaTeX (for geeks) ] [ Swap Dark/Light ]
Mushrooms (39) : Alone (16), Sex Discussion (14), Music Discussion (22), Glowing Experiences (4), Combinations (3)