This experiment was conducted with the legal unprocessed English Liberty Cap Mushroom: Liberty and Unity I lie on my back staring up at the stars, about quarter of an hour ago I ingested approximately 100 Liberty cap mushrooms.
This experiment was conducted with the legal unprocessed English Liberty Cap Mushroom:
Liberty and Unity
I lie on my back staring up at the stars, about quarter of an hour ago I ingested approximately 100 Liberty cap mushrooms. The stars begin to dance, organising themselves into various geometric shapes, a show for these eyes only? A glance down brings a line of trees into view, wailing ghost faces shift in and out of view amongst the leaves. I look to my left and see otherworldly figures frolicking in distant pink tinged trees. I should go for a walk. My balance is unaffected but darkness clings to the floor and walls of these woods. Navigation is difficult to say the least, for in every place that darkness resides strange brightly coloured patterns attempt to make a break from my subconscious. Amid the confusion I find a path, it leads me to light.
My destination is the local football field, the journey there is wonderful fun. Sitting down in the stands I spark up a pre-rolled joint. Coloured searchlights play on the breathing football pitch and the houses that overlook it rush past like an infinite subway train, each house a different carriage. It seems that I can hear for miles, the wind delivers all manner of distorted noise to my sensitive ears: growling traffic, shouts and bangs. I’m starting to spin out - surrounded on all sides by such magnificent audio/visual intensity. I decide to get walking again, this time my destination is a friends house, somewhere warm and light. Mercifully all anxiety fades the second I hit the streets. Cars leave memories of themselves, painted in light, long after they have zoomed off into the distance. I am unsure of how to act walking past people. I must look kind of funny - Big headphones, bigger grin, my eyes filled with innocent wonder as I wobble and wave with the contours of the pavement. And half a joint hanging out my mouth, Oops! better pocket that. I reach a reasonably busy high street - drinkers and eaters buzz about like they have something important to do, every one a cartoon of themselves. I use the crossing even though I can’t see any cars - the beep it emits, signalling me to cross, is entrancing in its bizarre fluidity. As I walk my hands play in my numerous pockets, sinking to great depths and sometimes spiralling uncontrollably in these magical portable voids of mine. When I finally arrive at the door to my friends house I stop for a while to get myself together. The patterns on the glass dance while the verticals and horizontals of his porch create infinite variations on the four sided shape - I ring the bell to no response, and again…
A new destination is required, the local golf course seems like a good option. I re-light my extinguished spliff and begin to walk once more - the surface on which I walk is no longer concrete but a glorious Technicolor carpet, the skilled craftsmanship of MaryJane immediately apparent. During gaps in the traffic I swiftly dart across roads, ensuring as best I can that the growling light beasts don’t stop my journey prematurely. I reach the golf course in one piece: take out another pre-rolled, put my headphones back on and fall backwards onto the damp, well kept grass. The world that surrounds me disorientates as it vibrates - Am I up or down? Back or front? Ground or sky? Light sheets surf the cosmos above me and I regain some semblance of my position. Each toke on the joint sends me deeper into mushroom space until the multicoloured clouds and stars above me mirror the effervescent, incandescent patterns of my subconscious. I close my eyes and swim as pure energy in a sea of pure energy. I open my eyes and spin in the sky as pure energy in a sea of pure energy. Barriers break down as my being expands. Until… unity… I am a voice in a world of voices, A form in a soup of forms. I open my eyes a hundred times without once shutting them, a different aspect of the same world greets me every time. I am the music from my headphones - a spinning, undulating vibration, merging with and riding on the vibrations of every existing energy. I dance in Psychedelic space, an infinite & timeless place, until memories of material existence creep back into my consciousness. I open my eyes and extend an arm - it is still constructed of energy, waving and twisting in defiance of material physics. I guide my hand towards the half smoked joint that lies lazily on the lawn and put a flame to it. Standing up I take a toke, defocus, wobble and begin to walk. I hear no gaps between the songs in my head, the background sounds carry my inner being in a different direction to my material self - I take off my headphones before they cause me to fall.
I begin the journey home, my mind on a million different things until I distract myself with the breathing and rippling of these colourful surroundings. I come to no harm on this journey but end up at a destination other than the one I had in mind - I have returned to the football pitch. As I walk towards the stands I realise that I am acting in exactly the same way as I did during my earlier visit. I hesitate in the same places, sit in the same place, put my bag across from me just as I did all that time ago. All the while a voice in my head reminds me I am repeating prior actions exactly, I fear that I may be about to begin the trip all over again. With relief I find that only one joint remains in my tape case, I take out an apple juice to contrast the orange juice I drank earlier - just to cement in my mind the fact that this is a different time. Thoughts float in and out of my head like the smoke in my lungs. I work through a few things that have been causing me worry, the mushroom offering answers that now seem obvious. I get up with the joint half smoked and begin to walk home, the first portion of my journey is exactly as it was when I walked it earlier and old anxieties awaken. I calm myself by chucking away the joint rather than pocketing it, proving to myself now is different to then.
I arrive home, the sound of my key in the lock amplified by paranoia. My room appears soft and welcoming, I look in the mirror and see my material form threatening to return to a spiritual state - I flicker and buzz like the picture on a bad television. Shedding my clothes feels good, so does turning out the light and sparking up a bed time spliff. Fila Brazilia warm my mind with their ambient funk and I ride their comfy soundscapes to sleepyville…
Farewell & Goodnight…