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Everything is EVIL!

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Please rate this trip! If I find that people enjoyed reading it, I will post about the time I ate another fourth and did an ecstasy pill.

Dramatis Personae
I - Your humble narrator and protagonist
Z - My friend
P - My friend, Z's girlfriend
S - My girlfriend
1/4 of strong Ps. Cub. - The antagonist

This was my third experience with shrooms.

So P managed to score 2 3/4 oz of Ps. cubensis and all four of us decided to eat way too many. Shit, these were STREET shrooms, how strong could they be? Bad fucking idea on our part.

Cut to: 9pm, S's apartment.
We grind up 3/4 oz into juice. Z and I each drink a fourth, and fast too. (Hint guys: Throwing this much fungus at your stomach, IN ANY FORM, is a bad idea. Take it slow.) BTW, for those of you from nations with a more enlightened measurement system, that is 7 grams. P and S have an eigth each.

We go outside and I realize that this is going to be a bad trip. I can always tell because the vague music I hear goes into minor and sinks to low pitches. We get to S's car and she drives us to a park. "Is it an evil park?" I ask, in all seriousness. Damn, why are all the trees so evil?

Once we get to the park, I became so fearful that I had to go back to the car. I tried to sleep (don't think I am kidding; My friends are perpetually perplexed by my ability to pass out when they could not even consider sleeping) but was unsuccessful. P came back to the car and invited me to go with them to an adult-sized playground. Fine, better than being alone.

Cut to: 10pm, walking to the adult-sized playground
"Is it possible to be controlled by someone else?" I query S. I was serious. I thought some distant but hostile entity controlled me and I just wanted to confirm that I was not tripping. Yes, I was that messed up. Oh, and the trees and the sky and everything else were still evil. (Another hint: Avoid shrooming at night. The two times I shroomed at night were the only two bad trips I had.) At this point, I could not even maintain a thought for more than a split-second. My mind kept racing and I could not concentrate at all.

We got to the park and the voices of my controlling force were making we look down the hill to the bay. "Z, how far is the water?" "Uhm pretty far dude." "I mean could I go there?" "Uh... it's like a mile."

I don't care. I who normally have no stamina, run the whole way down without feeling any fatigue. I cross some train tracks and sit to look at the water. I begin considering scaling a barb-wire fence to get even closer, when I see a light behind me.

Shit! You are going to jail for a very long time. There is no point in arguing. You have already lost. My mind assails me with these thoughts as I stand and see a police car pulling up to me.

An officer steps out and I try to leave. "One minute... you are trespassing." "Oh sorry." I am trying not to speak much because I did not feel capable of being coherent. "What are you doing here?" Here is where I FUCKED UP: "Uh, I don't know." Bonehead! Of all the stupid things I could have said.

"Let's see some ID." I handed him not my driver's license but some other ID that, it suffices to say, indicates that I am clean-cut. He stares at it, perplexed for a few seconds. He then looks up and says, "Okay you are free to leave. Just realize that this is someone else's property."

I leave. Once he can no longer see me, I SPRINT up the hill. I can barely think. The only way I can conceive that he thought to let me go was because of the ID I showed him and because I was dressed in nice clothes. When I said "I don't know," I guess he construed it not as "I am twisted off my rocker" but "I am embarassed."

My friends should not be too worried, I think. That was only like fifteen minutes. Halfway up the hill, I run into them. They were coming down to look for me. (Good thing too, I never would have found the playground.) Z sees me and say: "Dude, where were you? You were gone for an hour!" Damn.

Cut to: 1am, S's car.
I am still paranoid, but not psychotic. The rest of the night was fairly mundane as we came down.

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