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30 grams fresh, wild cubes plus weed
I need to preface this trip report for it to make sense. I have used mushrooms many times. In my youth I enjoyed them with friends and after a 20-year period of abstinence from any drugs, discovered them again. I love tripping and I usually only trip alone. It’s not something that I want to do around other people as I try to use the mushrooms for insight. There are just a couple of very close old friends that I would consider tripping with. I have done enough serious meditation in the last 20 years to feel very comfortable alone, even in very difficult situations. Over the last 5 years I think I have used shrooms probably more than I should have but perhaps less than I would like to! Living close to amazing mushroom producing paddocks helps. I also almost always smoke a little weed with the mushrooms as I find the weed seems to lift the experience to another level and helps smooth out the raw psilo state – my experience at least. And so to my story….
Come Saturday morning, I spend my time writing up the trip in my journal, trying to recapture and record the experience of the previous night before it fades too much. I had no intention of tripping again that night but then a thought crept into my head that I really should get out there and have a look for some fresh fungi. So off I trek, and a trek it is, to a place that I know that is far enough away from the farmer’s house not to cause concern. The shrooms were harder to come by than I expected. I’m a couple of days too late but after some hard work I find 7 shrooms in good condition, albeit a little dried by the hot sun. (Seekers note: Don’t forget to look under the trees – better water and shade there.)
As the weed kicked in the trip came on VERY strong. Totally the nature of this trip, strong! I had dosed a bit higher than normal as I thought I’d have a bit of tolerance from the previous night. I hadn’t really thought about the fact that the shrooms were partially dried from a couple of days of hot sun and had maybe lost half their weight – I hadn’t really thought about a lot of things.
The music from the iPod was too intense so I changed it and then it was too trivial so I turned it off. Now I was left with the malevolent psychedelic landscape and my thoughts. All sorts of shit was going on in the visual field but none of this mattered, it was the intensity of the internalisation that was so difficult. I was given a look at everything that I had, that I have done and at what the deceit that I have built into my life was doing to it. I was trapped in a prison of my own making, solitary confinement because of the choices I was making. ‘What about your family, what about the kids? Take an interest in them or you’ll lose them. Get rid of the drugs! Don’t forget, don’t forget, don’t you forget!’
Then the mood changed and I started to get the giggles. I was cracking up so hard that I had to put my hand over my mouth to keep it in. ‘What the fuck! Tripping so hard behind the shed and laughing like an idiot.’ But it really was funny and when I thought of ‘Get rid of the drugs’ it became like an hilarious saying that I knew would become a catchphrase for the experience. I was talking to myself and having to tell myself to ‘Get it together’ What if someone came? Could I have held it together? I don’t think so but it was so good to laugh. ‘Get it together, you trippin fool!’
Then this poem formed in my mind and I started chanting
‘Get rid of the drugs, get rid of the pot, get rid of the mushies, get rid of the lot’
‘That’s right, no drugs again ever! Ha, ha what a crack-up!’
The drama of the dichotomy continued and I was having my ass kicked hard but in the most helpful possible way.
That morning I had written something about the mushroom landscape being ‘known territory’ and a ‘reproducible state’. Well to an extent but now I felt like a conceited drip for having written that and I was being wrung through, needing to learn a lesson.
I so, so wanted my son to come home but I knew that he wouldn’t. I was feeling such deep love for him. What if he did? I was in such a state, repeating catch phrases and then cracking up in rhythmic pulses for hours that I think I would have had to run away. All this time I was still sitting behind the shed in the backyard. I think that I was kind of hiding and I couldn’t leave. I’d think that the peak had passed and then it would come back on again even stronger.
‘You shouldn’t take magic mushies, I know… but if you do, you definitely want to smoke some weed with them!’ This kept coming into my head as well and I’d crack up and have to put my hand over my mouth. Eventually I felt like I could listen to music again but it was really late now as the peak finally began to fade. I think that I listened to Florence’s Cosmic love about 10 times in a row. I was completely fixated on it, something to do with being in the darkness. Man, I had just been there and was sure feeling happy to have been released from that prison.