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El Fantasmo

I hate to be a downer - but this trip report is going to be about a bad trip.

I hate to be a downer - but this trip report is going to be about a bad trip. I first have to say that I have seen beautiful things and had magnificent thoughts that I had never believed I would experience in my life because of mushrooms. I would recommend them to anyone who is willing to accept themselves - it may be dangerous for those that are uneasy in their own skin. Things have been revealed to me while on mushrooms that have furthered my mind and my ability to analyze, comprehend, and accept. However, my most powerful trip has unfortunately also been my worst trip.
The story begins in my own house when my parents were out of town. A friend of mine and myself ate a large quantity of very powerful mushrooms (we had already previosly tripped 3 times on this same batch - we were tripping buddies). After eating quite a bit we invited a friend over to finish off the bag (this friend ultimately became the glue that held me and my friend to reality).
We rolled a fat joint and as the trip began to kick in we sat in my back yard smoking. I could tell the trip was going to be heavy. My body felt like a ton - it was as if I was sinking into the ground through the chair I was in. It was unsettling from the start - though all my trips began as unpleasant - so I was just patiently awaiting heaven to unfold itself on me as it always had done.

Unfortunately, heaven never came. The trip began to take on hellish visions almost immediately. I remember, for no particular reason, imagining myself walking into my kitchen, grabbing a knife, and then stabbing it into my own chest. It was an unintelligent and desperate vision, but none-the-less, one I could not shake. I began to fear that I was going to kill myself.
My conception of time and space and self became warped to the point that none of the three existed. I saw the ego and reality for what they were - a societal conception used to bind people together in their selfish fight to survive. Granted this was a pessimistic viewpoint that I do not fully believe in - yet it is true at a certain point and had chosen to reveal itself to me in my trip. I looked into my friends faces, trying to tell them how bad my trip was, but saw nothing but helplessness in their eyes. I felt that they knew that I had gone over the edge, but that I had gone so far that they had no way of helping me. I was truly out on a limb.
Eventually, I began to see reality as a sheet of paper. It's an odd analogy, but the only one that comes to mind. I felt that reality was thin and that I could turn it over and bend it and see it from different angles and in different forms. Usually such a feeling is pleasant during a trip - you gain the knowledge of life and feel at peace because of it. However, in this trip, the knowledge was a disease that ate at my soul. It was as if hell were at my feet and were pointing out all the fuitilities in our lives.
Eventually I was reduced to dementia. I walked around my house thinking to myself that I had lost it and that my entire memory and mind had been erased - that I was completely lost to the world. I talked to my dog, asking him to save my soul while I grasped his fur and hugged him as hard as I could.
Despite all of this terror, I maintained some sanity in the realization that I had ingested a drug and that I would most likely be normal the next day.

The best way I can describe how far away my mind was is to say that I had access to any thought or image I pleased. At one point I looked at my ceiling and asked for God to come help me. I began to see the light of God forming on the ceiling, but then turned away in fear of the nature of the truthes that I was unearthing. I could see time collapse or could speed it up or slow it down. I could make the walls bend, or the trees wave, or a friend's face change. I could do whatever I pleased, yet it was not happy, it was frightening. I saw reality break down into something quite tangible.

What I learned of myself from this is my own fear of chaos. I try to control my life too much, and it causes me trauma. You cannot control life - we are all a part of life, one of many of one. We must accept this and give in to the chaos. Until we learn to love chaos and all that it encompasses, we cannot be truly happy with ourselves.

Before I end this tangent - I must say that there were a million more things I saw that afternoon that there is not nearly any way to explain. So many thoughts and visions and feelings swept through me - as if I was a wind tunnel. It was glorious in that for a moment I was able to be part of the divine. I was able to see life for what it was and experiment with it as I pleased. It is very unfortunate that it turned into a bad experience. Hopefully the next time I encounter this state of conciousness, I will be able to enjoy it for what it is and not fight it. I have truly learned my lesson in that respect.

On a good note, the trip eventually turned good as it wore off. My friend who had eaten a similar amount of mushrooms began to jam on the piano and we talked and played music together and had a generally amazing time together. My lucid state of being allowed me to happily explore thoughts I was normally closed to - and I was allowed to again enjoy tripping for a short while before the drug wore off entirely.
As for my other friend who had finished off the bag - he had not gone nearly as far as my other friend and I had gone - and we were lucky for that fact - he helped us maintain our sanity.

Again - tripping is a great thing in general. This is just a testimony to the darker side - the side you must be weary of. It may sound amazing and powerful and introspective, but it is a little more amazing and powerful and introspective than you may be able to handle. This is where the beauty and danger lies in mushrooms - in their ability to show you the fantastic.

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