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mycelf said:
Extra dimensions or products of the mind - trying to draw the distinction while tripping will tether you to your everyday consciousness, so the key to breaking through is to "let go".  Check my previous post, "Novice Salvia Explorer", for some accounts of me getting "psychedelically cock-blocked" by my attempts to objectively verify what I was feeling.  If you are good at meditation, you could shut off the internal dialog and let go with lower doses.  Otherwise closed eyes and darkness, no talking or music lyrics, a stronger dose, and a desire - to go - rather than a fixation on - bringing something back - will help you experience what you may agree are other worlds.

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aspiringpsychonaut said:
lolol, come on bro dont let the saliva d tell you what you to do you got to kick it in the face and show it your not scared

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Treating sally d with no respect will definitely kick your ass

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mycelf said:
Intermediate Salvia Explorer, 20X "Pure" Brand, Full Breakthrough


First, a shout-out to WiccanSeeker, redgreenvines, Akuma, and haven't-seen-you-on-this-forum-in-days Stell.  Having checked in on my first report thread - and having left a reply to it, I was inspired by the subsequent reply from redgreenvines to come back out of retirement.


INTRO

Readers, I have finally reached the state of Salvian inebriation I was searching for: Breakthrough!  In this trip, I was fully head under. I was never looking back for the trail of twine or shiny, glinting flints; this time, I didn't want to wake back into reality. I was fully engaged on resuming my life in a dimension further up the hierarchical menu of the multiverse.  Metaphorically, it was the scientist looking up from the microscope thing - where the scientist had been lost in fascination by the miniature, microscopic minicosm captured in his optical instrument with the eyepiece blocking out all of his mundane concerns in the laboratory. I felt like Rip Van Wrinkle finally pulling free from the undergrowth and vinery that had interwoven itself through his clothes and yards-long whiskers.  Remember those mossy cocoons in the 80's movie Troll?

A month ago at the local pub, Salvia divinorum came up.  One friend at the table had never used any mind-altering substances of any kind - drinker of nothing except coffee and being a brother of the briar in the smoking department.  The other friend is a rock'n'roller with a past in pharmacological mind-fuckery.  They listened to my stories somewhat unbelievingly impressed.  I'll call 'em Brian for briar and Roland for roller. Brian's girlfriend was going to New York for a week at the end of the month so he would have the pad to himself. Roland said let's do it then. Okay, that was easy.

The time was coming up to the fated weekend.  I was unsure they would go through with it so I started talking about it to them a week ahead of time to replant the seed and get a commitment from Roland. I went to the local cigar shop (one of the three non headshop places I scouted out in the months since my first Salvia divinorum purchase) and thought I would have to go with Purple Sticky brand.  My other friend had a positive experience with that.  I had only used SalviaZone brand before.  I thought it was legit, but I never felt like I "broke through".  Here at this store, they only had "Pure" brand and some-spelling-of-ecstasy brand.  As lame as they both were named and packaged, I chose the "Pure" shit since it came in a wide range of "Timeses" 5x, 10x, 20x, 30x and possibly more.  I got the 20x for $27.99.  A 3.5cm diameter soft plastic clamshell similar to a contact lens case contained 1g of 20x fortified leaf grits.  I chose 20x because I wasn't happy with the potency of the approx 12.5x Red level of the SalviaZone.  I also bought a little $5 inside out 8cm glass pipe so I wouldn't have to bring a caked-on weed pipe to my square friend's house.  I got some screens too. 

I cornered Roland the next day at work and said I was counting on him not to puss out because I needed him to channel his coolness so we could get Brian to bust his psychedelic cherry. That morning, I saw Brian at work, and he told me which beers he got for us and lamented that he would just be watching us have fun get drunk - this boggled me because he usually just watches us get drunk and doesn't remark.  I told him not to worry that I had something for him. He nervously laughed and expressed his worries in some self-mocking comment. After work, we repaired to Brian's house which he was just moving into.  Outside, was a large, private backyard and some mild weather.  A Guinness for Roland, and a Guinness for me,  Brian tells us a story, a second for Roland, a second for me, we move outside.  Roland asks me mischievously what is in the two black liquor store bags.  I pull out the little pipe the package of Sally d., and Brian said he'll smoke one of his own first and pulled out a cigarillo.  I thought they were't going to take the dive with me; Roland got his third beer and that spelled the end for him according to his pattern. I got one too, giving up.  Brian went into the bathroom, I knew I had to smoke that night because this plan was made and invested in and had to be executed. I told you guys I would report, and I needed to have something to report.


ROLAND'S TRIP

I opened up the clamshell and dosed according to the pinch method and eyeballing the volume mounded in the glass bowl, suspended by a clean brass screen. Roland asked to see the clamshell and examine the fortified grits. As soon as he asked, I knew it was game on.  I loaded the quantity I used to fill my pipe at home, approx 0.5cc or in other words a large pea for my friend Roland and hustled while the momentum had been inertiated.  I hauled him over away from the covered back porch to the cut-to-the-cuticle lawn so he wouldn't fall and hurt himself. Roland disappointed me with a weak puff and immediate exhalation.  He remarked that he was feeling something immediately, I took the 3/4 finished bowl and incinerated the last quarter with a regular bic lighter.  I began to feel the landmark sensations of rotational movement and unravelling.  Brian came out about that time and found us talking while sitting on the astro turfy lawn.  I remarked that I did indeed feel those hallmark sensations of starting to trip on Salvia, and that I knew what I would feel if I smoked more.  Roland wanted to get up and walk back to the small ring of chairs we had set up for our bull session.  He was still well grounded in this reality - probably in Level 2: Altered.  When he leaned back into his semi rocking chair, he remarked that he felt like he was falling repetitiously backwards in a bemused way. I started packing (the grits can't really be compressed though) myself a bowl (about 1.2cc) beginning with a fat pinch and bringing up to size with little smidgeon pinches. Brian indicated he was ready, thinking I was packing for him.  Okay, sure.  I like that initiative.  I stood up and asked him if he wanted me to light it.  He asked if he was supposed to put it to his mouth. As far as I'm concerned, nothing is obvious especially in a completely new scenario so I patiently said yes and explained the use of the carb. The double glass/inside out pipe was impressive enough to not fit into their schematics for a "pipe".  Brian did me proud with a gnarly hit.  I said, "that's enough, you are going to trip hard.


BRIAN'S TRIP

Brian let an opaque cloud of snaking, yellowish smoke pour out of his mouth. I took the pipe from him and sat down.  He immediately reported potent effects and clung to the curved edge of the bench swing he was sitting on. I told him to close his eyes. Roland kept talking to him, and I told him verbally, in gestures, and in gripping his shoe to stay quiet. However, he wanted to be part of Brian's trip and didn't realize what Brian was going through, which seemed to me like it may have been a Level 4: Vivid trip. I knew Brian was tripping and experiencing the repetitious, cascading perceptions of Salvia with his comments like, "Was I talking about talking about talking about!?" and "Whoah, I hate this, well not hate this, but how could you... Whoah!" and when he was coming back, "Which veil am I on?"

He was well-mindblownded by the experience and utilized his apt linguistic skills to describe what he could.  He described the sensation of "going over" after surmounting the first hill of a rollercoaster but rushing along an endlessly receding, downward curved rail.  Rather than a rail he flew through an endless cascade of pyramidal shapes. Many thousands of identical or subtly varied figures proceeded down the staircase. He said that he was expecting sitars would start to play and the traditional LSD imagery in movies would be what he felt.  Instead, he had an experience that shook him to the core as far as the nature of reality is concerned. He kept asking, "Is this reality? No, I mean the real reality."


MYCELF'S TRIP

At the conclusion of Brian's trip and his brief recount ("Yes Brian, the real reality")...  I packed myself a bowl of about equal volume to what Brian had (approx 1.3cc).  I incinerated the tea-black grits until the brass or copper screen discolored to a silver color with mother of pearl like colors along the irregular border of where the butane flame seared through the metal. Roland took the pipe from my left hand and asked, "So you want us to just be quiet?"  I exhaled after my head fell apart and closed my eyes. I was well-involved with my new Salvia friends in a reality completely orthogonal and extradimensional. However, I could hear some occasional comment from Roland and Brian. And my cell phone rang! I fished it out of my pocket at clicked the top button to silence the ringer. Roland was telling me I didn't have to answer.  No shit.  It rang again, and I pressed off the ringer again. Eyes closed again.  Back in. I was fully in and under and in a separate world. I was examining a school bus as a mechanic or a driver concentrating on some joint between the dark green seat bench and the thin, riveted metal of the wall of the bus. It was quite engrossing, and I was carrying on a conversation with a few townspeople through the window. The setting was a towny wholesome village with a large tree to the right with dark green foliage, a brick walkway winding around it and through the park to the fruit-laden carts and marketplace and the "Sunny Day bus station".

I heard a remark from one of my friends on the outside regarding my comatose entrippedment. With my eyes still closed, and while fully in the middle of some genuine social transaction with someone in the Salvian realm. I slid a shoe in the dust across the concrete porch, and it bumped into what must have been Brian's shoe, and I noticed with a sliver of my perception that he moved his shoe to let mine get past. Finally, I could not shut out Brian and Roland's gaze and scrutiny. I felt like I was being wrenched from my bus like pulled through a stretchy, plastic film which wanted to hold me into the new life, but I was being torn through by Brian back onto the porch - which I resented and tried to close my eyes to return to that world I would rather have existed in. I tell you, I had already forgotten about this life and would not have returned had I not been beaconed and summoned back to it. The back porch world was at a 45' angle but rubber elastic zapped back into proper orientation. I tried to say something with my totally-nerfed speech.  "I feel like I was ripped out of Sesame Street" was all I could manage.


REFLECTIONS

This time I was in the Salvian world and pulled back reluctantly into the real world. Every time before I was hoping to go just a little bit more.. Oh missed it! Always looking towards home and not letting go. This time, I had no choice; I was teleported there. Once again, I felt like I was resuming a life there that I had just returned to, fully populated and all the usual relationships and everything in progress, oblivious to this reality.

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mycelf said:
Yeah, Sleepwalker.  It is all so twisted, I'm not sure really.  My feeling is that I am trapped by fascination into this wakeaday world, and I may exist somewhere else.  Maybe it's all BS, but that's why I'm trying to report more than interpret.  Anyways, I did trip again, embrazened by the ease of the last trip.  My experience, although proceeded immediately before with a chronic hit, was purely visual and geometric.  I didnt have any other-beings experience whatsoever!  I'll report as soon as I'm sober enough to do a good job.

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