OH that Mushroom Tea

A few months back I took a trip to San Francisco to visit my best-friend. It was my first time tripping 3000 miles away from home in a great city of strangers. We had purchased some excellent shrooms from a mutual friend of ours (you know who you are!!), and we had tripped off half of the quarter already in a hotel room, but it hadnt been how i wanted it to be that night. I wanted more intensity, more feeling, and more revelations this day. I had a goal of some kind being out there on Haight St., in the middle of all the maddness of hippies and homeless drug addicts. The city was one place I had never tripped out in. So, around 3 in the afternoon my friend and decided to boil up the mushrooms for a special treat. Mind you that the only other time i ever had done mushroom tea turned out to be a very bad trip, but i refused to think about that and gulped down a full cup of the warm apple-cinnamony goodness. Before I even finished the cup, having not eaten at all that day, I could already feel it warping my thoughts, and with each gulp I fely almost taller, like Alice In wonderland. Once i finished the tea i sat down staring at her rug (she's a painter) with the paint splashes and rippled layers sucking me in, melting me. Suddenly the waves of nausea struck and the only thing I could think to do was go outside because being out in the fresh air always made me feel better during a trip. I love being connected with the earth, just laying in it and going back to my roots where I came from, my mother earth. As I stepped out into the sunlight my eyes began to water severely. I rambled on up to this beautiful park across the street. It looked like some kind of eden to me, a safe haven. My stomach began to churn with tea and shear emptiness. Unfortunately, in my drugged state, I seemed to have forgotten how many crazy's live in that park. I sat down on the stone wall and a strange man started talking to me, something about money. I actually thought about giving the guy my whole wallet so he'd leave me alone in my sick head thoughts. I remember the man making me very nervous when suddenly he starts pulling at my sleeve and asking for CRANK. I was so confused and nausious by now I didnt know what to do with my self;tears rolled down my face uncontrollably. I wondered if I looked like some sort of crack-head and got very paranoid. I knew I was going to be sick if I went back inside, but I took the chance to do anything to get away from the scary man. I had to walk down a steep hill to avoid him and I thought for sure if i tried to walk down them I'd fall forward into the street and be hit by an on coming car. It was like tumbling down a steep mountain. I couldnt get these bad thoughts to go away as much as i tried. So I ran down the hill feeling the wind wip through my head. I managed to buzz my freind to let me back in, running immediately to the bathroom. By now I was tripping so hard I could barely keep my eyes open. Time had ceased to exist all over, pulling me in a million directions and creveces of my brain. Each thought, each item around me blended into my mind, like nothing ever had before. Everything was flowing, as if it was really going in one ear and out the other. I tried to grasp thoughts over and over while I got sick, telling myself I would get through this. The toilet turned black before my eyes and I thought I was going to pass out. I relaxed for a minute and sat listening to my heart pound beneath bones that werent there anymore. I thought my heart would pop out of my chest with insanity. Closing my eyes didnt help either. Heavy dark patterns popping up like the letters on Wheel of Fortune, but much faster with the words bad strewn across it in blood red letters. I decided to chance going in to the bedroom with my friend when I heard her playing Tool and I freaked out once more, screaming at her to turn it off. Every sound felt like it was coming out of my body with this terrible vibration. The negative forces had taken over. I wouldnt even allow my friend to talk to me as i curled up into a ball and immersed myself in blankets and pillows trying my hardest to be comfortable, but I was no longer in my own body, something else had control. I could barely breath under all the cloth on top of me, but I was convinced that it was the only way to get away from it all. Each time I opened my eyes I thought they were bleeding colors. I couldnt even focus on my own hand. My friends paintings melted into her face and into everything around us. My eyes ached with fear and wretched pain in my belly. The screens filled my head because I had to close my eyes. My freind was on the internet talking to another mutaul friend of ours and each key stroke was like the smashing of a hammer in my brain. BADBADBADBADBADBAD in patterns open ugly, hideous, patterns just spewing themsleves in and out of my brain over and over. I didnt know what to do with myself. I thought for sure this time I was dead. With each bad thought I tried to counteract it with a good thought, but nothing worked. I think I must have eventually fallen asleep in my maddened state under all that heat and blackness. I slowly peaked my head out of the covers so afraid of what I might find. Once I noticed that the bad part of my trip had passed I manged to crawl out of my little casing and search for my friend. She had done fantastic and was now petting the botton of the tub thinking it was a turtle, even talking to it. We began to just laugh at it all and had some amaxing revelations out on the street watching the police kick the homeless kids out of the park. We contemplated yelling at the cops but figured, especially in our condition, that it was not a good idea. The rest of the night was filled with great, bonding converstaion and a feeling of relief among the strong appreciation for pure and true life beyond this demension of reality that we know.