Citation: Liz. "Itís Always There, I Just Canít See It: An Experience with Mushrooms (exp95489)". Erowid.org. Sep 19, 2019. erowid.org/exp/95489
My First Mushroom Trip
I asked my brother how I should conduct my first mushroom trip. Iíd done a lot of acid, but not shrooms, and my brother was much more experienced in psychedelics than I was. He told me I should wake up at dawn and that I would want to listen to a lot of Pink Floyd. But he only knew his experience, and even though we are twins, we of course have different minds. I woke up early in the morning as per his advice. I started watching music videos on MTV and ate the mushrooms in a peanut butter sandwich. Then I waited.
At some point, the videos all started to seem very fake, weird, plastic, disgusting, and totally unappealing. I winced and turned off the tv. My room seemed small, cramped, too full of negative energy. I put a CD intp my CD player and it also seemed very strange, too phony, too happy, with undercurrents of sadness, it was some popular hipster music of the time. I hated it and had to immediately turn it off.
I walked out into my living room and sat down at my brotherís widescreen iMac. The large screen glistened. All of the post-itís and folders seemed to shimmer and glitter like magic. My eyes widened and I grinned silently. I was in awe of the magic of the beautiful Macintosh computer. My brother, a chubby, artistic, stoner, walked past me into the kitchen. He suddenly reminded me of Pooh bear. I imagined him going into the kitchen to get to a honey pot. This thought made me giggle a little. He ignored me and ate quietly, which was endearing to me.
I must have told him the mushrooms were taking effect, because he asked me, ďHave you tried drawing yet?Ē I shook my head.
ďHave you tried drawing yet?Ē I shook my head.
Social interaction felt very strange to me in that state. I became very impressionable and a bit scared of my true self. All the furniture had life. I picked up a sketchpad from one of my art classes that I was taking at the time, and began drawing the chandelier lights as they looked to me, similar to the knoblike growths on a plant developing into leaves and shoots. The lamp was a plant, the chandelier was a flower.
I examined the hot pink tapestry thumbtacked to the wall. It looked like it had spherical protrusions, like great pink globes, protruding from its fiber form. It held my attention just a moment and I grew uninterested.
My brother returned to his room.
I went into my bedroom and peered at the cover of a plastic covered book I had taken out of the library. The book contained reprints of many different peoplesí journals. It was an anthology of creative diaries. The front cover of the book contained several small reproductions of the covers of a few of these miscellaneous journals. Every cover looked like a tiny tv screen, moving, living, containing a little active vignette. I found this cool but my mind wasnít blown like when I took acid. Everything seemed like it was as it should be.
Suddenly, I needed his companionship. I knocked on his door as softly as I could. My voice sounded strange, like it wasnít my own, somewhere between male and female, as I said, ďCan you hang out with me?Ē I felt terrible when he declined and I kept begging. 'Please, I need someone to hang out with.' I asked again and again until he finally opened the door. We went outside.
When he opened the sliding glass door to the back yard, I was astounded at the geometric shapes that formed the grass. I could see the geometric forms that every single blade of grass made and the grass looked like an amazing field full of geometric shapes. I was astounded by the grass. I knew that what I was seeing under the influence of mushrooms was reality, the grass was that complex. And what I saw on a daily basis was a trick of my unsophisticated, closed mind.
My brother walked ahead of me. I followed him to the forest.
The trees looked like their color had been spray-painted on, like we were on a Hollywood movie set. The lighting looked like it had been orchestrated by highly trained artists. The tree bark looked painted on, I could hardly believe any of it was real. And the colors seemed off-kilter, the brown tree bark seemed more purple. The gray willows seemed orange. Color was intensified to a great degree. It was astounding. It looked like a movie set.
My brother proceeded to complain to me in a whiny voice about how he was jealous of my ability to enjoy trips. Though he had had many more psychedelic trips than I had had, I was somehow better able to enjoy them. He never felt comfortable, he said.
We headed back to the house and pretty soon the effects wore off.
I hope mushrooms find me again in the future and I know they will.
My experiences have made me believe that psychedelics show me the truth, what my mind is usually missing by being so closed. Itís always there, I just canít see it.
COPYRIGHTS: All reports are copyright Erowid and you agree not to download or analyze the report data without contacting Erowid Center and receiving permission first.
Experience Reports are the writings and opinions of the individual authors who submit them.
Some of the activities described are dangerous and/or illegal and none are recommended by Erowid Center.