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Good Times? Hell No.

It began when one of my friends somehow acquired a half-pound bag of mushrooms.



It began when one of my friends somehow acquired a half-pound bag of mushrooms. I'd tried them 3 times before that but never got higher than a level 3 trip, so me and a different kid decided we would try to see how high we could get. We really had no clue what we were in for.

4 of us set out to one of our houses, were we could safely (I thought) expand our minds in peace. I was moderately high after eating a few caps, probably 2 or 3 grams, and in all my wisdom decided to eat 12 caps at once. I consumed about 7 more grams in about 10 minutes altogether and my horrible journey had begun. The whole night is mostly a blur, but certain events are burned into my memory.

I remember at one point seeing 2 of my friends fighting and horribly beating each other, I yelled for them to stop, at which point they melted into the floor and I realized I wasn't in a kitchen, but outside in a field. I had a sense that this wasnt right and began to run, yelling for help. I was beginning to think I had made a mistake and might have overdid myself. In the blink of an eye I was in the backseat of a car, driving with my friends. I had no idea wether I was completely imagining this or whether it was really happening, but I couldnt close my eyes. The tracers I were seeing were intense, and eventually my whole field of vision looked like I was staring into an oil painting that someone had thrown a bucket of water onto. The words coming out of mouth stopped being english, and became what I now call "Shroomeric" . Rational thoughts drifted through my head occasionaly, and I knew I was still in for about 4 hours of this.

As I got higher and higher, I realized that the world as I knew it was simply a mask for the real universe, which exsisted inside me. I was God. Seemingly alone in the house, I phased in and out of conciousness, at one point seeing the floor soaked in blood, and at other times, I would lay in a bed for what seemed like years while I contemplated existence. I thought that this was how I was doomed to spend the rest of time, in an endless abyss, with no company but my own completely messed up head. Colors I had never seen before danced in front of my eyes, and I wept at the beauty of them, and cringed at the awful things that lurked just outside the fortress of my mind. People surrounded the bed where I lay, and spoke to me in languages I had never heard, and I answered them with my mind, and created life on a million planets. Music began to loop endlessly through my head, the same notes over and over and over, which of course forced me to use my power to transport to another room of the house. After what seemed like forever I could feel myself coming down, and I could hear the real voices of my friends, saying my name. I opened my eyes and swept away the illusions and I was on the couch inbetween 2 people and they asked me if I was ok. They said I had been downstairs for 3 hours, alternately cursing, yelling, crying and laughing to myself. At one point I had slipped out of the room where they had carried me and snuck upstairs where I yelled gibberish until someone returned me to the "safe room" (by safe I mean a room with no pointy things or accesible windows where I could possibly injure myself or escape from the house).

The relief I felt at being back to normal overwhelmed me and I just sat and stared. This was in no way a fun time when it was happening, and although now I look back at it as an important experience, I don't recommend trying to get to this level unless youre prepared for 5 hours of absolute insanity.

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