5:44PM. Impulsively I decide to take some mushrooms I'd dried out. There was one fat ass I'd dried, two smaller mushrooms (really thin) and about 10 pinhead aborts. I chewed them down over 15 minutes while watching television.
The dose began affecting me a bit hard than I'd thought by about forty minutes into it. Shadows creeped in, then back out. Patterns began to imprint themselves onto the carpets and walls. I felt a little apprehensive. My mother and sister were home and my father would arrive shortly. I had to escape.
I made up an excuse and drove out of my house to a local mall. My concentration on the road felt short, but I seemed to be able to see a wider space. I told myself it was stupid to be driving, but since I'd done it before in much more messed states, I didn't feel so bad. Outside seemed extraordinarily bright for the time of day (about 6:30PM).
I walked around inside the mall. Everything jumped into my focus field of vision at once. The colours seemed crazy; they were just too organized, in their little rows, hung on racks. Some higher intelligence must've put this display together. The people that walked by, who were few and far between in that place, wore shifting masks with kaleidescope skins. The glided past in freakishly smooth motion, leaving light trails behind them.
Realising that I should get home before I peak (or not go home for hours) I hurriedly went out to my car. Sitting in the drivers seat, my vision told me not to drive. The dashboard fluctuated in proportions, patterns all over it. I looked all around. Space still seemed normal. I didn't feel so good about the whole trip, and thought about hitting the liquor store. I decided, no, I'd put myself through this trip even if it was bad. I drove home, slowly. My concentration on the way back seemed to be improved.
I got home around 7:10PM. I felt damn dizzy and tense in the stomach. That taste (the acid taste) hung in the back of my throat. I said something about being tired and moved upstairs. Looked at myself in the mirror. My own face was melting, hair getting longer, shorter, and so forth. Back in my room with the lights out, bright colours appeared in the dark. The walls pulsed in and out like in a horror film. Every sound, no matter how far away, felt very close, not in a claustraphobic way, but as though I had a cable plugged into the source of each sound.
I started crying. It'd been a long, stressful day, and tommorow wasn't going to be a good idea either. I saw the terrible pattern of substance abuse re-appearing in myself with this very trip. I told myself never, never again take psychedelic drugs impulsively. I worried that perhaps I throwing my life back in the wrong direction; away from health, away from friends, away from happiness but towards what? Depression, substance abuse, and nostalgia for things of the past.
I continued to get upset about an ex-girlfriend of mine (which had happened about two years earlier). The same old pattern of me, this lonely man continually finding someone wonderful only to loose it so quickly made me feel awful. I wanted to go back in time. To plead with her to not do this; don't send me on this spiral of loss, or I'll always be lonely.
To distract myself I feebly attempted to do some work on the computer. Every minute I'd be distracted either by how strange something sounded, or how much the walls were pulsing in and out, or in the worst and most often case, my previous depressing thoughts would return. I'd simply forget to continue on the computer and would cry a little bit again.
"Shit. I don't need this. I don't fucking need this. Why the fuck did I do this to myself? Why? I wasn't ready for this. You can't just take mushrooms." I whimpered to myself in the solitude of my dark room.
My only pride and sense of hope came from the fact that I had avoided alcohol as a means of ridding the pain. That made me see the hope, the conflict between my old bad patterns and the new ones I needed desperately to build for myself.
Once in a while I'd turn a light on to find something in my room. I kept watching the textures in the carpet unfocus, swim around a little, and then merge into an ever shifting but constant dance of patterns. Pretty visuals didn't seem so interesting in such a depressed state of mind. I worried about my ability to handle higher doses, only for a short while though (all it takes is preparation).
Around 9:15PM I started to feel my consciousness start to come back to normal. The intensity of my sadness had been inflated via the enourmous inflation of time. I'd spent my trip in an emotional purgatory where the devil played tricks with the clock, cheating me of the ability to ride out the pain. As my mind regained control over the clock, I started to feel better.
At 10PM or so, I went to check out my pupils. They seemed a little large, but nothing noticeable. I went downstairs and chatted with my parents for a bit. I talked with unusually short sentences and my lack of concentration made it a bit tough to be coherent, but I pulled off seeming tired (I'd just 'woken up from a nap').
I watched the news. I wanted to laugh a little about all the political crap on television but was simply too tired and still a little bummed out. By 12AM I felt completely down (and exhuasted) with a few trails and suspiciously bright colours still around me. I went and fell asleep.