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People in my Pants

This was my first time on shrooms, and I was really looking forward to it.



This was my first time on shrooms, and I was really looking forward to it. My friend, Hank, an experienced shroomer, was there to sit me, as well as a bunch of other friends who had never done it before, but wanted to watch. I drank down 2 grams with some cranberry juice and just hung out in my room for a while. My friend Melissa came by and she also took 2 grams. After about an hour, I wasn’t feeling much of anything except drunkenness. I was just dizzy and numb. Hank told me it would help if I went for a walk and got the blood flowing, so the whole gang of us headed out across campus at night. I was quickly overcome with an intense feeling of happiness. I couldn’t stop smiling, no matter how hard I tried, and I would laugh loud and hysterically at virtually anything. I still wasn’t getting any visuals though, which kind of had me disappointed. I would soon learn that patience pays off.

Melissa was getting an uncomfortable vibe from the “spectator” people, so she left us and went back to her room by herself. We were all getting cold, so we went inside to my friend Alex’s room. He’s an artist and does virtually all of his work while hallucinating. We stood and talked for a little while, before it finally hit me. As I was standing next to his dresser, the patterns in the wood grain started waving and sliding. I was elated and enthralled by them. I started looking around the room and the walls and floor were moving too. Alex gave me a book of some of his work and I stared at them all for what seemed like hours. The colors were so bright and fantastic and they were swirling around into beautiful mosaics. Eventually some of them took on recognizable shapes, like faces, or animals. One pattern looked like a green mermaid playing a trumpet. In a landscape picture, I could see the ground waving like grass blowing in the wind, and the rocks and mountains were three-dimensional.

I looked down at my hand and it was as if I could see all the blood cells running under my skin. They were those familiar doughnut-shaped red blood cells, only about the size of a dime. Later in the night, I saw the same thing in my face in the mirror, as well as a complete twisting and bending of my face. I was wearing a plaid shirt, and that was a constant source of awesome visions.

Back in Hank’s room, his brown shag carpet became a thousand tiny caterpillars crawling around on the floor. I then looked down at my legs and found a gold mine of visions hiding in my blue jeans. First, there were faces. Lots of them, swimming all over my pants and looking back at me, smiling. On my right thigh, one formed into the face of Jesus Christ. He also looked like he was having a good time. My friends of course were laughing and enjoying the show the whole night, but when I yelled out “I can see Jesus in my blue jeans!” they practically pissed their pants. After looking around at the room some more, I went back to my jeans, only this time I saw words. I couldn’t read them, but they were in large, blocky text that reminded me of newspaper headlines. They then formed into some kind of runic language. It reminded me of old Norse or something. Then there was another face. Oddly enough, in the exact same place as Jesus, I saw a man with a rectangular head, square glasses over his eyes, and a triangular mouth. His head kept growing taller and taller, and a second set of eyes sprang up out of the first.

My entourage had significantly dwindled by this time. The two girls who were watching, Jessica and April, had gone off to see a movie. Hank and Mike were the only ones left. We went back to my room and I proceeded to stare at a map of the world I had hanging on my wall. The countries were all changing shapes and sizes, and the map would sink way back into the wall at spots, or come out in big bumps at others. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling tiles. There were more faces there, chubby people with big cheeks and double chins. The rounded, cartoony shape of them reminded me of Mario and Luigi, but without the moustaches. The wood grain in my furniture was all melting and dripping, I reached to touch it, expecting it to feel soft and gooey, but of course it didn’t.

Mike put on a movie called Killing Zoe while I was lost in another hallucination. I had my hands crossed on my lap and the two buttons on my sleeve cuffs had become blinking eyes. We watched almost the whole movie, but it was kind of unsettling for me. Lots of anger and violence. I was able to keep myself under control, but I think next time I’ll definitely want to watch something friendlier. Something G-rated. I actually didn’t pay a lot of attention to it. I was too busy staring at the map and the bedspread.

It was about this time we started to worry about Melissa. We assumed she was alone, and thought she might be off somewhere having a terrible trip. I tried to call her, but was entirely unable to stop laughing hysterically. I left a message on her machine about 2 minutes long of insane babblings. Later, Hank called her and she actually picked up. He said she sounded very out of it, very lost. Time was a complete mystery to me at this point. I felt as if I had been tripping for days but it was only a couple of hours. I’m not sure how late it was when Mike called her again. This time she sounded really bad, and he tried for a long time to get any kind of response from her other than “uh huh”. The next day, she stopped by to get some stuff she left in my room and she told me she had had a horrible trip. I really think environment is what determines the enjoyment of your trip. I was surrounded by good friends and we were all laughing and talking and having a great time. She was alone in her dorm room, thinking and doing god knows what. The fact that I had an awesome time was definitely 100% to do with the good environment.

After about 4 hours of tripping (real time, that is. It seemed like 10 hours to me) I was starting to come down. I wasn’t getting as many visuals anymore, and while I still felt great, I wasn’t laughing constantly anymore. Hank and I went back to Alex’s place and smoked some weed in his van, which really brought back the shroom high for a while. Hank and I sat in his room watching old dubbed kung-fu movies. I was so tranquilized I couldn’t move, but the visuals were definitely back. The screen really glowed bright, to the point where it was almost hurting my eyes. I leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. There were a thousand mouths, just lips and big toothy grins in rows floating across the ceiling.

The shroom effects wore off again but I was still really baked. We ate a bunch of food and then I went home to pass out. I got up in the morning, Melissa came and told me about her awful night, and I sat down and wrote this trip report.

Azarius
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