Experiencing a change in seasons

I first tried shrooms about 2 weeks ago. My best friend had mentioned that he could get them and I had always been interested in the experience. My stomach was turning as he and I split up the 1/4 zip of these ugly, dried, white mushrooms. I had not eaten all that day and I was excited/anxious/nervous. We ate them straight up, with some lemonade to wash them down. Not knowing what to expect, I anxiously sat in my chair looking around waiting for things to start looking "different". It was about 6:45 at the time, and in retrospect I wish we had been able to try them during midday or even morning hours.
After about 20 minutes, I began to feel very hot and inquisitive. My normally worried and nuerotic inner dialogue had changed. Normally, the thoughts and worries going through my mind give me a headache every day. At this time, however, they became less... conscious. My mind was still racing, but there was no resistance to thought, no distractions or garble. Each thought, instead of vying for a place at the front of my mind, existed simultaneously and seemed to blend together. We then decided to head downstairs and sit on my screen porch. It seemed like minutes between making this decision and actually walking downstairs, as everything I saw began to look more substantial, more real. In actuallity, it took only 15-20 seconds. Sitting on the porch, any conversation we had intended on continuing was lost in our amazement with nature. I couldn't help but smile, enjoying the lubricated thoughts and comfort with which I understood myself. I found myself uncontrollably attracted to my yard, and we began to wander. Looking at the grass, I felt that I truly understood something for the first time. I saw beyond the blades, beyond the pattern I mowed into the lawn earlier that day. As my thoughts accelerated, I allowed them to become completely focused on the grass. I simultaneously understood the grass as an amalgam of photosynthetic cells, as individual blades, as patterns of blades, as a massive single organism, as completely logical and understandable, yet completely organic. I appeared more... real. I can't better explain it. This realization came and went in the first 30 seconds of being outside. Staring at moving water was amazing, but I was unable to wrap my thoughts around it as completely as the grass. I attribute this to the elemental and very unique nature of water. The mums in my mother's garden were a special treat, as they were all facing the exact same direction (the last place the sun had been before it dipped below the tree line). I knew why this had happened, but at the moment, I could not understand how I had failed to appreciate this feat of nature. By this time, about 30 minutes after going outside, my friend and I resumed conversation. I can't remember what we spoke of, but I do know that my experience was altered by him, and not necessarily in the best way. He had tripped before, so his insights were welcome, but his depressive/anxious nature made me avoid conversation to a certain degree, and I felt a constant obligation to make sure he was alright. I think that, as a living organism, I understood him as a part of nature, and as such, artificial constructs such as language and appropriate social skills were uninteresting to me, at best. There was a significant communictation barrier between us, with many conversations ending in me trying desperately to explain something I saw as naturally self evident, and either getting a confused look or a criticism of my inability to make sense. Eventually, I realized we had walked around the house at least 12 times, and had walked nearly the same path each time without second thought. Still don't know what to make of that observation. Sitting in the waning light of a late summer evening, I listened to the forest, and for the first time heard EACH sound individually. On coming inside, I felt immediately disappointed. The walls seemed to make the air heavy, the dull electric light made the air seem hazy, and everything that reminded me of ridiculous social constructs really stood out. For example, I stood in my kitchen staring at the pile of mail on my table thinking, "What a load of bulls***." I saw through the artificial meanings we (people) give the things around us and became saddened by it. At this time, the visuals were the most powerful, and we moved the living room and watched the Simpsons and American Dad. They were almost too intense, and many times I found myself laughing uncontrollably at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Many times my friend closed his eyes and rolled them back in his head, or stared intently at the woodgrain walls. I gave up my attempts at maintaining coherent thought and self analysis and simply experienced the cartoons we watched, allowing my reactions to roll over my thought and completely control my actions. This seemed to bother my friend, who told me that I was making him nervous, causing me to reign in my emotions and once again become bored with the whole ordeal. Playing war (the stupid card game) was similarly unsuccessful, as my friend's anger at losing (which seemed SO trivial and beyond the realm of any type of reasonable response to a game that ran on tracks. in reality, War is over before it starts, we just don't know how it all goes down). All in all, it was a wonderful experience, and I was able to take away the idea that there is no rush to things, that feeling worried and frought with anxiety about missing out on life only causes us to do so more, and since my experience, I have noticed many changes for the good in myself. I am not as nervous, or absentminded, or self critical, and my self destructive/nervous habits have all decreased signficantly. Also, my desire to get high or do other drugs has diminished as well, as I feel more comfortable in my own head. Not that I don't still like to get high, but I don't need to. Next time I'd like to be outside for the duration and just walk, sit, observe, and be left alone.