The first thing that happened while I was trying to sleep after eating 2 caps and a stem was I started to hear music in my head. It was like an ambient trance music that I had never heard before - it was kind of like taking the minimalist techno of Plastikman, combined with goa/acid, but at an ambient tempo. Somebody please try doing this sometime - it would be GREAT for chill and brainy sessions!
It was like watching a silent film in CEV. Slowly I was transported from a fun vacuum world of dancing shapes to what was the unfolding vision of a future city. The bleeps and bloops of the music came to represent the sounds coming off the devices attached to the citizens of this future city - like highly coded cell phone ringers. In fact, people communicated through these musical tones. They were all dressed in full oxygen suits because the air was so polluted. All the while, they were constantly being advertised to through audio and visual spam, telling them to buy sexy shampoo and designer oxygen masks.
Everywhere was civilized violence, a constant barrage of simultaneous massive ecological disasters, sky freeway pile-ups and crazy immoral shit but everyone was calm and chill, totally pacified. The message from the digital overlords was to keep buying shit and keep going, keep yourself entertained. The anarchists came and did horrendous things to fight the digital overlords.
I opened my eyes and found my arizona green tea on my dresser and took a swig. My room looked completely normal though very blue in the moonlight. The music was still playing in my ears but I closed my eyes and returned to the city.
The digital overlords were strict masters and the anarchists were not much more than insane, super tech-wired apes. The words "There will be no peace for they will not change their policy" were spelled in my head. I felt such despair for I felt that I was watching our future unfold and I said the Lord's prayer. And from the smog-filled sky opened up a bright and healing light and I repeated the prayer and opened my eyes and the light was floating and growing and pulsating as I prayed.
Then the music stopped and when I closed my eyes, I saw nothing.
Out in my living room, my roommate and his guests were making a loud racket and I wanted them to leave. I put on my bathroom and took my green tea and went out to join them.
No one knew I was tripping.
I started up this conversation with this chick on my couch who I didn't know and in a few minutes, I found out that she used to go out with the biggest prick in my residential college at school. I found it funny that she was a virgin too - I always thought there was something a little yahoo about Zanetti.
Because I was hogging the conversation, the kids finally decided to leave at 3:30 AM on that Friday night. I was feeling mean...so I stand at our sliding glass door leading out to our patio calling out 'thanks for coming!' feeling like a sit-com patriach.
Then I challenge my roomie Berg, to some Mortal Kombat 4 and Mario Kart 64. I usually lose to him on MK4 because he plays the Chinese wind god and always fucks me up with him tornado combo. But for me, shrooms, or hallucinogenics in general, have a focusing effect akin to snorted Ritalin for me. The TV wasn't pulsating or anything but I felt very alert and attuned to the screen action and whupped his ass round after round with Liu Kang. Whupped his ass on Mario Kart 64 ... I wore myself out and finally passed out.
I wake up the next day at noon. My mind is totally numb and 3rd person. I still have about 2.5 grams left in the baggy. I call up Shiraz, who I'm going to the Coachella Music & Arts Festival with that day. I feel a bit weak and start making a tower of pancakes for me and my roommates. When hungover, I become like a freakin' mom - makes me feel like its penance. I leave a note by the phone saying 'In case some shit happens to me today, call my Mom at...' Shiraz comes, we have a gin 'n tonic on the patio, I grab a couple CDs and we head on our way.
LA that day was marine-layered and depressing. I lived way out on the Westside so we had to grow through a lot of urban sprawl on the I-10 before hitting the open road, especially with weekend downtown traffic where all of LA, Orange and San Fernando Counties collide in 80 mph Wagnerian madness. Anyway, I'm sipping a Mountain Dew chewing away on the mushrooms as Shiraz is talking with his best buddies from London.
On the open road, me and Shiraz start talking about God and about the future and why the fuck can't people get along. Imagine having this conversation while passing mall after mall after car dealership after parking lot and you start to wonder whether we're really on our destined path or really really starting to piss off God. I decide that the Messiah has been born and he is a child in Israel and he knows that he is the Messiah...he needs no convincing unlike King Arthur or Shrek or Neo from the Matrix, he knows and he sees what's going on around him and he's pissed off. And he'll one day say 'Hey muthafuckers, listen up! this is the way it goes - chill the fuck out, start loving, start being grateful and start being responsible!' By this time I was laughing like a maniac and I ask Shiraz, am I making sense with what I'm saying or am I just tripping. He assures me that it made sense - thank goodness. The apex of this train of thought was when we reached a part of the freeway where bulldozers were skinning the verdant Earth on one side and on the other side was just the biggest parking lot you've ever seen filled with trucks. I was like 'what's so important that you have to turn this (left) into that (right)?' Then I came down a bit and stopped thinking about God.
We listened to lots of tunes and talked about music. It started with some Dave Matthews and Jack Johnson to Billy Bragg and some Clash.
Suddenly the clouds parted and we were approaching Palm Springs...and how we knew was we came upon fields and fields of windmills and I said in dreamy reverie "you know, we might just make it after all" and I snapped a picture. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
We make it to Coachella and stand in line at Will-Call for an hour. I sit on the ground and feeling really Sierra Clubby, I start picking cigarette butts and trash and putting it into my empty water bottle. Then I play with a bug and throw him far from the area of the line-up where he would surely have died sometime that day. This kind of embarassed Shiraz. We made some line friends and I took photos of hot chicks who were clearly on E.
We get in and enjoy some of the best music ever from Jack Johnson, Bjork, Chemical Brothers, Jurassic 5 - after a couple rounds at the beer gardens, I finally stopped tripping as night fell on the desert.
I passed out on the drive home, rolled into my bed and slept like a baby.