Wandering Soul

Wednesday night (four days ago) was a BITCH. I consider myself to be a relatively experienced tripper when it comes to mushrooms (I've taken 10+ dried grams before...), but I got my ASS KICKED. I scored a load of shrooms around 10:30, and on a whim decided that me and two other friends should trip because the weather was bad and we wouldn't have school the next day... These were the DANKEST and most BEAUTIFUL shrooms I have ever witnessed, fully perfect in size and shape. Somehow convincing my friend's parents that the weather was too dangerous for the other two of us to return home, we finally acquired a comfortable and safe atmosphere. (his parents condone mind-expansion...:)

This guys room is PHAT, man, just totally earthy and trippy and the same time, and is usually perfect for shroom trips. 11:00 we ate; my friends taken 3 grams each and me taking what we later estimated at around 5-6 grams. We proceeded to inhale the ectasy of kind bud and got HIT instantly.

At this point D's mom came up and asked him to take the trash out. He said he had a ten-minute giggle fit in the garage... Upstairs A and myself felt like our bodies were full of pressure, or energy. AND THE INTENSITY JUST KEPT DOUBLING ON ITSELF AS I PASSED THE TYPICAL MARKERS OF EACH LEVEL: BODY, CLOSED-EYE, MELTING, CAVE-IN, AND EXPLODED INTO A STATE OF POSSESION.

I mean we were possessed by *something* to move, talk, and to some extent think. We didn't really acknowledge it at the time, but reconstructed later. Apparently at some point I drifted out of the room, obviously affected to a greater extent due to the larger amount. I vaguely remember roaming the halls upstairs (directly above his rents at 12:30) and practically yelling in no language but just incoherent babble and the like.

I remember feeling like I wasn't doing it, like it wasn't my fault because I wasn't willing it to occur. My friends started yelling at me and yanked me back in the room, apparently we didn't bother his parents enough to bring them upstairs. Looking back on it, though, it seems like they should have been quite startled by it, because at the time, I was seperate from my body merely perceiving what it did...

At this point I lost ALL contact with reality and became a possessed demon. One of the other two was also VERY fucked up, but the third claimed to be fairly calm and stable all night...?? All I know is that I certainly was the exact opposite! A few minutes after the hall incident, A (tripping hard) handed me a plastic cup half-full of OJ. Imagine this: I receive the cup and simultaeously crush it and detonate my stomach onto my clothes and his carpet! It seems somewhat funny know but it WASN'T then; it launced me into the worst trip I could EVER imagine, no kidding.

Immediately following the vomit was 15 minutes of uncontrollable dry-heaves and convulsions, all of this during an already level 4 unreality...I thought i was fucked, man. I KNEW my body was dead and I was somewhat relieved but my soul lived on and i was traveling through hell in its confines.

My friends later said that my eyes at that point weren't focusing or looking directly at anything, but just going nuts and totally streaked with fear. Additionally, it fully appeared to them that I had NO CONTROL over my body. The ensuing bad trip was most likely caused by a few things: the barf/convulsions/dry heaves thing, the fact that the weather was now perfect and we would definitely have school the next day and WOULD WE STILL BE TRIPPING?!, and a few comments/conversations that stick out from what I remember. These include "Where are your mushrooms, huh? I don't see 'em anywhere!" and "Now we're done. It's all over. The time's almost up!" none of which came from me because I couldn't talk at this point, but I don't blame anyone because we were all TOO fucked up, big time.

I was soon in a fetal position near his door, zoning in and out of the consciousness of my body. While not in my body, my soul was wandering through hell and an incredibly antagonistic force was playing the most unimaginably horrible "mind traps" with me, such as allowing me to experience *eternity*. When I was in my body I would feel semi-conscious of my surroundings (D's room-I still KNEW that), but everything was SO FUCKED UP!!!!!!!!!!!

My "friends" became the satanic force, crushing my soul with perceptable hatred. I would zone in and hear them saying, at the top of their lungs, "Lets kill him and eat his flesh. And I'll beat the shit out of him, comere you BASTARD, Im gonna FUCK YOU UP!!" It was so crazy. I perceived D leaning over and smashing my head against a wall and then ripping a huge chunk of my shoulder out with his teeth, and I COULD FELL THE PAIN AS REAL AS ANYTHING. I PROCEDED TO BITE HIM BACK, but then zoned unconsciouss again for about 4 hours...

D snapped me out of my trance at 5:00 am and I clearly remember jumping back and trying to get away because I thought he would "kill me again..." But I realized his voice was somewhat normal again, that I was sitting in a huge puddle of puke and OJ, and that I was still around level 3. A "woke up" from a similar trance about 1/2hour later. D claims no trance and no heavy tripping, but an exhausting night of "watching over us". I can't understand what happened but I get the sense that the bond that I have with P.M.'s doesn't allow me to abuse them, and that's what I did by trying to force a trip into a short night.

I was fairly bothered by D's insistent attitude of praise desirance, for apparently SAVING OUR LIVES, especially since I think I would have been better off left alone, because anything said to me made me flip... And the fact that I was exhausted from a hell that I'm sure he's never experienced, and I hope never does, made it suck even more that he was rubbing it in so much that he "held his shit". But I DIDN'T HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE. I KNOW WHAT POSSESSION FEELS LIKE I KNOW WHAT INSANITY FEELS LIKE I KNOW WHAT DEATH FEELS LIKE, but I can't understand what happened that night. I estimate the mushrooms to be twice as potent as anything else I've ever had.

THERE IS NOTHING CURRENTLY COMPREHENSIBLE TO ME IN THIS WORLD THAT IS SCARIER THAN A REALLY BAD TRIP.

Now four days later I have eaten again last night, two grams, and felt ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. This is understandable and even makes some sense, but nonetheless it didn't serve its purpose as the proposed reassurance trip to help me feel better again. Curiously, I am beginning to feel that it was good for me, that it taught me incredible things, and that surely, if I can live through that, then nothing else can scare me...... :P