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4 grams bone dry wild cubes plus weed

Cosmic dancer



Life is very strange. Habit patterns that we carry with us and that manifest in different ways across the journey of our lives can be hard to break. My journey started in an unaccustomed way, submitting to the basest of sensual pleasures as the initial arousal of the psilocin began. Watching guilt but consciously acting knowing that guilt only makes matter worse – addicted to guilt. No guilt, conscious action instead frees you from inner tension.

I rugged up against the mosquitos that I knew would be outside and got coils going on the deck. The Southern Cross hung in the crystalline sky to the right of the tree’s silhouette. I was well on the way and there was definitely more to come but I was set and settled enough to change the gears on this trip and send in into the hyperspace level that seems to be the synergistic nature of this combination of molecules. One opens up deep recesses of the mind, the other brings the quality of introspection and heightened awareness. Combined they are a force to be reckoned with. There is a genuine state of being in that landscape that is reproducible – known territory but it is filled with surprises as well. Getting to know it has taken some courage though. Hesitation and trepidation before and during the dosage always induces fear of ‘What will happen to me if it’s really strong? Will I lose my self-control, my ego, me?’ The fear of dissolving the ego is very strong. Looking for the divine but fearing that what I find will find me wanting. The funny thing is, as soon as I’m there, I always, well almost always, want more. This is too bad because by that time, more, usually doesn’t do anything except waste good material.

The trip came on with a sudden intensification and lifted my mind into the canopy of stars above. The Milky Way above the Southern Cross was a cosmic dancer, her groin the area of the Coalsack. Whilst the stars remained fixed, she seemed to sway across the universe reeling in the enormity of space. The Southern Cross and Coalsack seemed to be a polarity - light and darkness, heaven and hell. ‘Were those early explorers, swayed by religious fervour, convinced of Christ’s reality on the cross on their discovery of his cross in the southern sky? Or is it just a random collection of stars and galaxies?’

The intensity of the music became overwhelming as the intensity of the trip increased again. I turned the music off and instead for a time I listened to the night. The distant hum of a didgeridoo and dance beats lifted my body from the prone position to spontaneously dance under the stars. I laughed out loud at the thought of me going and grooving at the ‘festival’- exposing my secrets to the world, being completely free. What an edifice of acceptable behaviour we have to build around ourselves, we in public positions! I chuckled more at what I had chosen to do on a Friday night. Something struck me that this is what I had always done – lead separate lives and consciously or unconsciously kept one from the other. I have to have an alter life, an alter ego to the main. I fear the exposure of one to the other because of what others might think of my apparent hypocrisy. How we judge each other, forces us to hide our use of entheogens ‘Ha, he’s not serious he’s just a tripper.’ I was reminded then that I must avoid, at all costs, judgement of others for I have so many of my own faults that I need to bring to resolution.

As always a question arose as to why I keep doing this. The inner voice cries out ‘Why have you come knocking again? You know you shouldn’t, but now that you are here, here is what I can show you. Look at what might become of you – shrivelled up old and diseased. What of your beautiful children and all the great future life has to offer?’ But then the illusion of these thoughts became apparent as an hallucination of my impending death brought the edifice of any future crashing around me. ‘Is this my last moment? Then what of it? What should I make of it?’

The depth of sincerity in the music reflected facets of my own realities, different for each song – a deep aspect of my psyche analysed with each new tune. The beat became exquisite in its power to move energy through my body, in time to both the artist and the cosmos. Suddenly a shooting star flared across the sky and I was riding on waves of cosmic iron, mouth open drinking it in. The shooting stars significance startled me – the sword of Michael, cosmic iron finely divided, raining down. I lay down on the boards and opened up to the sky. My back arched naturally into a yoga posture with genitals facing the Coalsack. Was I making love with the universe? I was being impregnated with the cosmic iron, which captured by the haemoglobin nets in my blood, filled my being with the air element. Swirling galaxies of fire so finely divided in the vastness of space were just a twinkle in my eye.

‘Are we alone in that vastness and does my dispersion on death send me into an endless search for my home in this place?’ I was humbled into insignificance.

I heard the creators voice ‘Look what I can do, I can manifest a vast universe, truly incomprehensible to the mind, what are you in the face of such magnificence?’ If that is a beings thought then that is some being! But perhaps its just a physicist that lost control of his experiment somewhere and our universe just spiralled into existence out of that - shades of the large hadron collider. I laughed a little at this.

So what of my remaining time then? The significance of not wasting time struck me as being very important. Writing this down, not wasting the lesson seemed to be especially significant. What is not written becomes lost or dispatched to recesses of the mind after far too short a time.

The intensity of the glow began to fade and despite some resistance the craving to take the peak back up for a little while longer won and I smoked again. The problem with this approach is of course that you can just tip the scales too far with the THC molecule and then the trip just descends into heaviness, dullness or a comatose sleepiness of little value, just adding heaviness in the morning.

There was so much beauty in this trip that I don’t really remember enough to be able to put into words clearly. Strangely enough though, the next time I tripped I remember being able to remember elements of what I had experienced but had forgotten. I don’t remember them in normal consciousness, I can only reach them by altering it. 

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