Prologue

. For purposes of this story, my name is Holiday and my friends name is Wallace.

Wallace and I were roommates in college and we discussed many times the nature of the universe and various effects of drugs. We were both fairly versed in theoretical physics and Eastern philosophies. Neither of us were religious, (meaning we don’t believe in a (Christian type) God) …So I had told him all about my two prior mushroom experiences (he having never taken mushrooms).

After a long discussion on the limits of the universe, free will, and religion as a whole, we agreed to eating an eight each and running around in the woods.

We got up early to catch the bus to a near by mountain. The morning air was cool and the sky was over cast but we new it would burn off by noon. After a nice bus ride (we being the only two on the bus) we walked up some roads till we reached the trailhead. A minutes walk in the woods and we pulled out the shrooms.

In the Back Pack—Two eights of mushrooms. Six Kiwis. Two small blue note books. Four pens. Two bottles of Lemon Ginger Tea. Four Apples. The keys to our room and Six Red Bulls.
The Set Up—I (Holiday) have taken shrooms twice before with a max trip of level 2.5.
Wallace—never taken shrooms.
The Place—deep in the woods on the side of a mountain.

We both ate our eights and washed them down with two Red Bulls each. (though it didn’t cross my mind at the time, seeing how Wallace had never taken shrooms, feeding him an eight and two Red Bulls probably wasn’t the best idea)

Anticipating the effects we begin to hike up the trail to the summit. Luckily, before they set in, I decided to bushwhack off the trail and we ended up in a small clear-cut far from the path. The clouds were breaking up and the hot sun was beginning to pierce through on to the land. I remember feeling very good then. My hands and belly filled with trapped joy and giggles. I had so much of it.

Wallace seemed a little confused. He laughed and acted drunk but it seemed like a show and he knew it was. He began looking at the grass very closely and laughing at nonsense.

My mind became extremely focused. I realized the shrooms were beginning to come on strong now. I felt extremely zen. I could do anything. I could talk to anyone. I was confident and calm. I could examine every inch of my personality and make it better, more efficient. I was amazed at the possibilities.

Wallace began seeing ants. His vocal patterns diminished short sentences and yelling. “ANTS ARE EVERYWHERE!!” I told him that it was just his vision seeing every edge of every plant. That your mind connects these moving edges with ants for some reason and if you think about it and look closely there are no ants. “Besides” I said “ants are beautiful. I would be glad to have them about.” Though he did not talk of ants again the yelling of different things continued. Wallace became mad at his eyes. “SO OVER POWERING.” I believe he struggled with vision being domanate over sound and touch. I could say nothing to this for it was true.

I remained in my zen state. I felt so happy and complete. The answer to every question was “that’s the way it goes. Isn’t it beautiful.” But Wallace was going a different way. He began to fear me and never look at my face. He hopped around on the ground struggling with his past and the events that made who he is. I sipped on the Lemon Ginger Tea and offered strolling over to some trees. He followed me with great difficulty for about 30 feet. He was losing control over his body.

I worried. My world was so amazing. Clouds separated when I wanted, birds sang and flew, and the wind cooled my sweating brow. But his world was being torn apart. I decided to give him some Tea and attempt a discussion on the universe.

Wallace took the Tea and spilled it all over himself. He then flung the bottle around and Tea covered me as well. When I looked at him I saw a human half made. A stunted tree. Again I worried, but said nothing. His anger grew. He began to yell and the muscles in his arms and the power he could do. I offered another walk and began to stroll away hoping he would follow. I had left the back pack.

I turned. Wallace grabbed the open back pack and threw it at me. I ducked. He approached. I was extremely clam. But I grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes very seriously. “You can control your mind.” I said in a stern voice. Wallace screamed in fear and shrunk to the ground. I gathered the things and put them in the pack. I told him that I was going to sit down by a log where he could see me. And if he needed me, to come and ask. I told him that he does have the power to control the trip.

I walked down to the log and sat down in the hot sun. I contemplated to occurrences. Then my trip took a notch up. I removed the little blue book and a pen and began to write…

…(continued in An Island of Blue)