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