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Worst Time for an Ego Death
Death and Rebirth in a the most stressful of situations
So, I'll tell you all now that this was an ill-advised time to trip. Despite my better judgment, I decided to take two tabs of extremely god acid. Now, the intensity of the trip was all good and well, the only problem was that, since my mom and step-dad were out of town, I would need to talk to them on the phone throughout the evening as they new I was having a get together at the house. This is what caused a terrifying yet refreshing chain of events that I will certainly remember as one of the most intense days of my life.
There were five (1 trip sitter of sorts) of us, four of us dropped at 1 o'clock, and started playing Saints Row the Third. Let me tell this game is fucking over the top, and when you are beginning to peak on LSD it is downright fucking ridiculous. So, when our trips started to get strong we decided to turn of the PS3 and listen to some music. The one sober person in the room thought it would be fun to put on the album Ummagumma by Pink Floyd. Let me tell that album is pure insanity. He sat in a squeaky rocking chair and let us all trip balls to the weirdest music on earth.
It was starting to get intense. Everything, in every room of my house, was moving, breathing, and writhing with intense colour and patterns. I had no idea how trippy my house could be.
The peak only got stronger, and things started to get surreal. I felt the full on ego death approaching. It was now near 3 o'clock, and my father, who new I was having a small party as well, was planning on dropping by around 6 with a case of beer and some pizza for us all.
Still getting higher, I was beginning the process of death and rebirth. I had experienced this process before on 4.5 grams of mushrooms, but on that day, I had no responsibilities or worries. Today, I had a whole house, plus three other people tripping as hard as me to keep track of. Let me tell you, when you can't even remember you exist this is not an easy duty. My world was flip turning upside down. Having a total ego death in your own home is fucking intense. I was entirely convinced I was dying, I could see into the afterlife while still being firmly grounded in this world simultaneously.
Then my parents phoned. The first phone call went well; somehow I was able to hold my shit and they were none-the-wiser of my otherworldly trip. Things went went well. I returned to the basement where my friends were, and they asked how the phone call went. At this point, I could not even remember talking on the phone, and I began to worry, because I could not remember shit! All I knew was that my dad would be over in two hours with beer, and that in my head, I was ceasing to even exist. My sober friend, the trip sitter of sorts, was giving off all kinds of weird vibes; but I'll tell you this much; I was totally convinced I was a figment of HIS imagination at one point, and that was scary. This ego death was becoming more and more complicated as my responsibilities were piling up on top of it.
My dad did eventually come over, and I'm pretty sure he knew we were all high as shit. I had no irises left, only pupils, and we were all sitting in my living room like retards staring at the ceiling. I know he's done psychedelics before so I doubt he cared, as long as we were safe, which we were. He left and we resumed our trip with 40 more dollars and a case of beer. At this point things were going well. I thought the money and beer was a gift from god (now keep in mind I'm not at all religious, but oh how I met my maker on this evening.) I was still high as shit, and so were my friends. The good vibes bagan to role when our trip sitter left and it was just the psychonauts left.
We all dosed the same amount, at the same time, and I have NEVER, EVER experienced something so bizarre. It was like we were all going through the same process of ego death, and we became a single entity. I thought my friends, me, nothing existed. I will recommend to everyone that they try tripping with four people in a house, it is fucking symphonic insanity.
My parents phoned again, and this is the point when they knew just how high I was. Given I couldn't remember their last phone call, they began to question me. It is vague at this point, but they asked how high I was, and all I could manage to tell them was that "I had a bit too much." I was not scared nor were they mad, but let me tell you, dealing with parents and phones and time itself is probably the most difficult combo one can face while tripping dicks on acid.
My mom was worried, and sent my uncle over to check on us. It was fucking surreal. Why the hell was my uncle here? Was this even happening? He knew were all high as tits that for sure, and after a short conversation he left, knowing we were all "fine" enough.
Now, out of my step-dad, my mom, and my dad, after that day I can tell which of them have tripped before. My step-dad was totally clueless on how to deal with me. During my full on ego death on the phone he was telling me to lie down for 15 minutes and eat a banana. HA! I thought, I'm gonna need more than 15 minutes for whatever is next, and why the hell do I need a banana? Am I going to be reborn as a monkey? I hope not. He was more lost than me at this point, but managed to get me to write down, "phone dad at 8 o'clock." before the conversation ended.
I was flabbergasted, overwhelmed, and exhausted. I had just had a full on ego death in my own home, and had to deal with parents and phones during the process. I wouldn't recommend it unless you love fear.
The rest of the trip went fine and when I was less high I talked to my parents again, and they were glad I was coherent again. The rest of the evening involved waiting around to meet another friend, who I was convinced was God at this point, because all I could comprehend was that we were waiting to meet "someone". I was relieved, we were all going to meet our maker. Whence we met him it was like the weight of the universe was lifted. The whole evening felt like a buildup to a massive dubstep drop. He's the only one I knew who could relate to such a strong trip as he is a hardcore psychonaut.
LSD at this dose is just pure fucking experience in every sense of the word.
And so that sums up the greater points of the most intense trip of my life. I have a new appreciation for life and fear death a little less now.
There were five (1 trip sitter of sorts) of us, four of us dropped at 1 o'clock, and started playing Saints Row the Third. Let me tell this game is fucking over the top, and when you are beginning to peak on LSD it is downright fucking ridiculous. So, when our trips started to get strong we decided to turn of the PS3 and listen to some music. The one sober person in the room thought it would be fun to put on the album Ummagumma by Pink Floyd. Let me tell that album is pure insanity. He sat in a squeaky rocking chair and let us all trip balls to the weirdest music on earth.
It was starting to get intense. Everything, in every room of my house, was moving, breathing, and writhing with intense colour and patterns. I had no idea how trippy my house could be.
The peak only got stronger, and things started to get surreal. I felt the full on ego death approaching. It was now near 3 o'clock, and my father, who new I was having a small party as well, was planning on dropping by around 6 with a case of beer and some pizza for us all.
Still getting higher, I was beginning the process of death and rebirth. I had experienced this process before on 4.5 grams of mushrooms, but on that day, I had no responsibilities or worries. Today, I had a whole house, plus three other people tripping as hard as me to keep track of. Let me tell you, when you can't even remember you exist this is not an easy duty. My world was flip turning upside down. Having a total ego death in your own home is fucking intense. I was entirely convinced I was dying, I could see into the afterlife while still being firmly grounded in this world simultaneously.
Then my parents phoned. The first phone call went well; somehow I was able to hold my shit and they were none-the-wiser of my otherworldly trip. Things went went well. I returned to the basement where my friends were, and they asked how the phone call went. At this point, I could not even remember talking on the phone, and I began to worry, because I could not remember shit! All I knew was that my dad would be over in two hours with beer, and that in my head, I was ceasing to even exist. My sober friend, the trip sitter of sorts, was giving off all kinds of weird vibes; but I'll tell you this much; I was totally convinced I was a figment of HIS imagination at one point, and that was scary. This ego death was becoming more and more complicated as my responsibilities were piling up on top of it.
My dad did eventually come over, and I'm pretty sure he knew we were all high as shit. I had no irises left, only pupils, and we were all sitting in my living room like retards staring at the ceiling. I know he's done psychedelics before so I doubt he cared, as long as we were safe, which we were. He left and we resumed our trip with 40 more dollars and a case of beer. At this point things were going well. I thought the money and beer was a gift from god (now keep in mind I'm not at all religious, but oh how I met my maker on this evening.) I was still high as shit, and so were my friends. The good vibes bagan to role when our trip sitter left and it was just the psychonauts left.
We all dosed the same amount, at the same time, and I have NEVER, EVER experienced something so bizarre. It was like we were all going through the same process of ego death, and we became a single entity. I thought my friends, me, nothing existed. I will recommend to everyone that they try tripping with four people in a house, it is fucking symphonic insanity.
My parents phoned again, and this is the point when they knew just how high I was. Given I couldn't remember their last phone call, they began to question me. It is vague at this point, but they asked how high I was, and all I could manage to tell them was that "I had a bit too much." I was not scared nor were they mad, but let me tell you, dealing with parents and phones and time itself is probably the most difficult combo one can face while tripping dicks on acid.
My mom was worried, and sent my uncle over to check on us. It was fucking surreal. Why the hell was my uncle here? Was this even happening? He knew were all high as tits that for sure, and after a short conversation he left, knowing we were all "fine" enough.
Now, out of my step-dad, my mom, and my dad, after that day I can tell which of them have tripped before. My step-dad was totally clueless on how to deal with me. During my full on ego death on the phone he was telling me to lie down for 15 minutes and eat a banana. HA! I thought, I'm gonna need more than 15 minutes for whatever is next, and why the hell do I need a banana? Am I going to be reborn as a monkey? I hope not. He was more lost than me at this point, but managed to get me to write down, "phone dad at 8 o'clock." before the conversation ended.
I was flabbergasted, overwhelmed, and exhausted. I had just had a full on ego death in my own home, and had to deal with parents and phones during the process. I wouldn't recommend it unless you love fear.
The rest of the trip went fine and when I was less high I talked to my parents again, and they were glad I was coherent again. The rest of the evening involved waiting around to meet another friend, who I was convinced was God at this point, because all I could comprehend was that we were waiting to meet "someone". I was relieved, we were all going to meet our maker. Whence we met him it was like the weight of the universe was lifted. The whole evening felt like a buildup to a massive dubstep drop. He's the only one I knew who could relate to such a strong trip as he is a hardcore psychonaut.
LSD at this dose is just pure fucking experience in every sense of the word.
And so that sums up the greater points of the most intense trip of my life. I have a new appreciation for life and fear death a little less now.
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