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Theres Not Enough
Salvia divinorum (10x extract)
Citation:   Inner Light. "Theres Not Enough: An Experience with Salvia divinorum (10x extract) (exp97683)". Erowid.org. Nov 3, 2024. erowid.org/exp/97683

 
DOSE:
2 hits smoked Salvia divinorum (extract - 10x)
BODY WEIGHT: 120 lb
Date and Time:
Pre-dusk on Easter Sunday, April 12, 2009

Set and Setting:
My bedroom, low-volume trip-hop song playing on Pandora

KNOCKING ON THE DOOR:
Jamie filled the bowl with 10x and I sat on my bed, with my legs outstretched and my back propped up with pillows. Jamie stood beside me and handed me the bowl and a lighter. I took the first hit, a large one, held it in for about five seconds and exhaled slowly. In the middle of the exhale, I could feel, see and sense intellectually that reality was slipping away from me.

I watched the stream of thick white smoke pour forth from my mouth and it was as if I was attached to the smoke, like everything was attached to the smoke, and all of it was stretching out of shape and elongating. I said something to Jamie like “I can feel it already” and recall him saying “do it again, quickly!” I lit the bowl and filled my lungs with the second hit and recall coughing and starting to exhale, but cannot remember anything after that.

OPENING THE DOOR:
I do not recall the end of the exhale, the passing of the bowl and lighter to Jamie, nor even Jamie’s presence. I recall nothing other than a brilliant white nothingness, like an empty page, a blank slate, and yet there was a sense of this white and empty world being spherical in shape.

I don’t know if my eyes were open or closed and had no sense of my body at all – nothing existed but the clean slate of white and a very slow, muffled voice that seemed far away and yet inside me at the same time
nothing existed but the clean slate of white and a very slow, muffled voice that seemed far away and yet inside me at the same time
. This voice was somewhat feminine and seemed to come from a mother or grandmother figure, though not necessarily my own biological mom or grandmom. She was trying to show me or teach me something about creation.

The fragmented memories include vision of distortedly cartoonish figures that may have represented me, this goddess, and everyone/everything. We were two dimensional, and all white with some red edges that faded into yellow tints before blending into the white. We were in a factory of sorts and coming down the line were things that we were creating. Her voice was within me, and all about me, though I don’t know what she was saying.

Suddenly the things coming down the line in the factory began to take shape, and just as suddenly became me. But I was me only in parts – in two dimensional slices, actually. Curving from the upper right to the lower left, were fingers of myself which stretched and rotated like liquid mercury as they cut me out of the white cloth of nothingness to create me. Just like oil mixing with water, the slices were mostly white, with red edges and a yellow tint between the edges and the body of the slices.

I could not move my distorted curving finger body and felt glued to the white two dimensional world, and there was a pulling in both directions. The curving finger slices of this fractal of creation that was making me real and three dimensional were pulling me away from the blank white nothingness that I was attached to, and I simultaneously wanted to be real and colorful yet to relax into the white of sleep and death.

I felt each slice physically creating me, and counted them aloud frantically - one, two – fearful that I would break and not become three dimensional again - three, four – seeing Jamie be created and attached to the slices of me – five – petrified that I couldn’t get us to take proper shape and that we hadn’t been sliced enough in order to break free from the two dimensional white in order to become functional three dimensional whole selves again.

I recall yelling aloud the number of slices at Jamie while they were happening, trying to explain what was going on and panicking that there weren’t enough slices to make us whole, afraid that we were going to be forever distorted curving slices of sur-reality, and guilty that I’d brought this upon him and myself.

When he reached out to touch me, he felt a part of me – but that sense only intensified my guilt and my desire to have this all be over. I recall saying his name and telling him that there were two slices of me, and that it wasn’t enough, but when I spoke, the words felt thick, heavy and foreign in my mouth. My memory was already fuzzy, and I couldn’t recall what the next word I was supposed to say was in the middle of the sentence. I tried to move him physically, to stretch us free from the hold of the whiteness in order for us to become real again - exerting a lot of strength to do so and feeling him resisting so much that I could not move him at all.

Finally, Jamie said “you smoked Salvia” and I felt reality starting to come back to me, rather than me coming back to it. All that existed was me and Jamie’s face before me. Then, I heard the music, but the speed of the notes were slowed down considerably like the voices of teachers in a Charlie Brown special and sounded far away like I was underwater. Jamie laid down next to me, and I could feel his arm behind my back, the other holding my hand. And it still felt like he was physically part of me. The rest of my bedroom items started to come into being, taking their familiar shapes and colors after I’d looked in their direction: first my computer over to the left, then my closet in front of me, then the bed I sat on.

I tried to describe the experience to him before it slipped away, but it was like waking from a dream where you’ve got the fuzzy edges of reality slipping into the surreality of memory and neither was cooperating with me. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep until everything stopped, but I thought that might have been a sign of my giving up and was afraid it would result in dire circumstances, so I continued to talk to Jamie and hold him. A sense of all encompassing gratefulness for his presence, his sanity, his being, and his love overwhelmed me.

The all-encompassing fear of insanity/death and the overwhelming gratefulness of love stayed with me for the rest of the night and into the following day. I hope I can swim in the latter in order to move beyond the former, if/when I chose to communicate with Salvia Divinorum again.

Exp Year: 2009ExpID: 97683
Gender: Female 
Age at time of experience: 34
Published: Nov 3, 2024Views: 33
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Salvia divinorum (44) : Entities / Beings (37), General (1), Small Group (2-9) (17)

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