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MRCA Tyroler Gluckspilze
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the comfort of fear



This is just a little bit of advice to anyone who considers themselves to be in control. I have often refered
to myself as a psychedelic warrior, having eaten hundreds of hits of lsd, from paper to gel to doused sweet tarts, usually ten or more hits at a time. The mushrooms always had a certain appeal to me, being an avid Mckenna fan.
His words about the alien nature of a powerful psychedelic experience had never hit home, a trip of that
calibur had always eluded me, until about two months ago.
My friends A. And J. had showed up at my friend D's house,
giggling like psychopathic school girls with dilated pupils,talking about the mushrooms they had just taken.
They had bought half an ounce, and between them they had consumed about an eighth.
A. asked me if I would trade the remainder of her mushies for a quarter of some pristine seedless sensi, and I was MORE than happy to oblige. This was friday.

My friend D. and I split the remaining mushrooms and came out a little better than a quarter a piece, he ate his over the course of several weeks, hallucinating heavily each time. Being the "psychedelic warrior" that I am, I ate all of mine the next day. I waited until just about dark and when no one was around, then brought the bags of sensi and mushies out, packing a bowl from one and dumping the other out on my living room table. I quickly devoured all the caps and stems and then called my cousin to come over and help me fill my home with smoke. The mushies hit me QUICK, and I started to see everything moving, crawling around. This was about 5:30.
My cousin arrived and asked if I wanted to go play Halo at his house on his big screen. I did not. I asked him if he could take me to Kroger to get an orange soda. This was a HUGE mistake. I was fine until I started drinking the soda, then things went nuts. The sudden realization that I was in the parking lot of a grocery store hit me so hard that it knocked the breath out of me. I asked G. (my cousin) to take me home. The ride back was excrutiating. All the neon signs on the strip were doing things that I cannot possibly describe to you now. I put my head between my knees and what seemed like hours later i was home. I alked up the steps of my deck, and started laughing with relief.
I decided that a bath would be a good idea. It was not. I put on the gorillaz and sat down in the tub. The rushing water got louder and louder until I could not stand it. When I turned the faucet off, I could hear Clint Eastwood playing softly in the living room. The line
"feelin' sensations that you thought was dead,
no squealin' remember that its all in your head'
sent me into a laughing fit again, and I started to feel ok until i started watching the water moving. I got motion sickness and an overwhelming nausea. I crawled, stark naked and dripping wet out of the tub onto a pile of laundry in the floor. I stared at the ceiling until I lost all contact with reality. I estimate that this was around 7:00.
I felt scared. Not like here come the cops scared, but thouroughly, and deeply scared. I have never felt fear like that EVER in my life. The feeling for the next two hours was like walking a tightrope, trying to maintain a balance between pure fear and pure exhiliration. It was amazing. The mushroom was talking to me, telling me not to be afraid, and showing me these bizzare images of alien beings, massive biological masses that could not have been the product of my imagination, things that scared the hell out of me, telling me that this was not something to fuck around with. I loved every moment of that trip, especially the scary parts, It made me realize how human I was. I would do it again in a heartbeat. I am in love with a mushroom. I will respect it more the next time.

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