Polysensational extradimensional life

Hallucinogenic drugs. The name alone implies visual stimulation, at the very least. But mushrooms (the ones I ingested, by name psilocybe cubensis and a yet, unidentified species, by me that is, you guys might know :)) are more than a drug. They are a key, a key to the doors of perception that are closed to the 'blind eye'. The third eye that everyone owns, but tools like mushrooms open.

I am Matt, 150 pounds, male. Underage at time of consumption.

I'll recall this as accurately and factually as possible, my buddy filled me in on some parts I can't remember. But all opinions and mind states were my own.

My first trip ever was had upon a stash of mushrooms that I myself picked, along with some very helpful friends who were experts at identification. I returned to one of their homes. Too eager and energetic, despite the lack of sleep the night prior. I didn't know much about preservation or even elasticity of psilocybin. So, never hesitating to experience something new, I devoured my collection. Approximately 15 caps, medium sized(maybe 2.5 inches in diameter?). 12 of which were psilocybe cubensis, except, the 3 that were very small, red ones. My friend assured me they were hallucinogenic, and I trust his word. This is Florida, by the way. I'm told it's one of the best states for mushrooms.

I wasn't used to drugs 'kicking in'. My only prior experiences being cannabis and other, more or less, instant feelings. My anticipation made me think I was altered consciously, but better judgment (and a wizened friend) told me otherwise. I was in a safe house to do it, where there would be no parental or legal repercussion, the perfect mental and emotional stability, also, in which to do something such as this.

The first thing I remember was about 40 minutes after ingestion. I noticed that the colour of my friend's psychedelic poster (A cartoon frog giving the peace sign with some bright colours in a sunburst behind it) was just a little brighter than before. How could this be? I asked myself. (keep in mind this is the FIRST time I had ever done a hallucinogenic drug, I was not at all prepared for the mental or visual change in perception.) I investigated closer, not even realizing I was making all of my observations out loud. I didn't realize I was talking to myself, by my friend did. I stared intently as the poster began to take on an ALL new depth. It began to sink into the wall, I recoiled in surprise and gasped and pointed, stammering over a way to describe what I was seeing. My friend smiled and nodded, knowingly. He hadn't taken anything yet, advising me that he be my trip sitter.

I don't remember much after that, I think i spent another ten minutes or so on the poster, but I do remember my attention being drawn to a myriad of other colourful things in the room. Band posters on the walls, lava lamps, lights in general. Everything was weird to look at, taking on very peculiar shapes that melted and superimposed themselves into the centre of my vision. Outside was just too intense for me. I tried to take a step outside, but began giggling uncontrollably, my friend told me later that my explanation for not being able to handle the outside world was "hahahahha, too... bright.. it's fucking hilarious!"

The next significant segment in my trip was( I really hope you try to guess this one, because I've had many fellow trippers guess correctly)


THE MIRROR!

Oh, by the gods, the mirror is probably the most incredibly terrifying, yet ultimately mind-opening part of my trip. I was trying to figure it out, but alas, all I could do was look on in awe. My face was warping in the most ridiculous way possible. Of course, I feel, that the reason I thought this was because of my ego, my personal opinion of.. myself. I couldn't generate a stable opinion of myself. Whatever particular thought I had about myself at the moment would alter my image before my own eyes. If I focused on any acne I had, it would become much more significant, and stand out. If I thought about my facial hair, it would grow MUCH thicker and sort of slink around my face like an insect. I, at one point, had to feel my face to make sure there were no bugs on it. I specifically remember this smile of awe and dumbfounding that I had throughout most of my reflective observation. Realizing that time had slipped quickly between my fingers, I retired from the bathroom mirror.

Time is relative. That concept is genius, simple, but it took an einstein to identify and put into words properly. What's relative to you during a mushroom trip is unique per person. Time meant nothing to me, it was simply a line following my movements. I felt as if I had a slight... foresight, almost mystic foresight, into the future. I don't remember much after the mirror incidence either.

The next significant encounter I had was with controlling emotions. If any of you have ever seen an online series called "salad fingers" you may comprehend an element of fear of the unknown that I felt. The thing is, the episode I saw, I had seen prior, I knew what was going to happen, when something was going to pop up, when the volume was going to go ballistic or when something suspenseful was going to build. I anticipated all of what SHOULD have been fearful moments. You'd imagine that knowing what would happen would suppress the fear. No. Not at all, it merely intensified it. I recoiled in UTTER terror simply because I thought I should. I bit my lip so hard that it drew blood. This part was not so much fun.

The confusion I felt in my brain was beyond comparison. Throughout the whole trip, I had conflicting emotions constantly. It didn't make sense, it's as if I was two people in one mind. (Nerdy reference: in star craft when two dark templar merge to make one being, the dark archon, they are quoted as saying "thoughts in chaos") I was reminded of that saying constantly, mostly because no other statement could more accurately define what I was feeling. I felt uncertainty and hysteria, my laughing and uncontrollable smile was only offset by the feeling in the 'second' part of my mind that was fear of this unknown, fear of what my subconscious could do if I let it get out of hand.

Towards the unfortunate decline of the trip, I watched TV. The colours bled off to the side of the screen, and advertising finally made sense: EVERYTHING IS TRIPPY. The rest of that day was a steady, calming, mentally refreshing ride. I came down great, and I laughed a lot. My conclusion for the day was that I opened the first door to my mind. And I had a whole lot more left unopened.