rubber ducky

My friend Robin, and experienced tripper, got a hold of
about 5g one night and brought them over to share with
me and my roomate Ted. I had one previous shroom
experience almost too mild to mention. Ted had never
tripped before and was eager to try. Robin was already
high when he arrived, barely holding in giggle fits as i
let him in the door. He gave away his condition when
he could no longer suppress his huge grin. We asked
him how the shrooms were, and he gave us a glowing
account of how great they were and how good he felt.
Ted and I downed out shrooms, about 1g each. Ted
grimaced with each bite, but I found the taste quite
bearable.

After about 30 minutes and some mild nausea, I felt a
distinct rush come on, like my body was relaxing and
expanding. My reality filters began to drop away and
everything was new again. The lights seemed brighter
but somehow easier to look at, and the jazz we were
playing took on whole new layers of feeling. Time
became unimportant. I tasted a beer and it was like I
imagine mop-juice must taste- ick. I looked around.
Our domicile is a large open concept artist's studio, full
of little worlds to get lost in while tripping...

During approximately two hours that followed I recall
these things especially:

My other roomate wasn't home, but his paintings were.
Most of them were portraits of rock stars, and all of their
faces came alive and revealed new qualities. Kurt
Cobain looked like a sad little kitten, and Beck became
rather sinister and started coming off the canvas. Ted
was so creeped out by Beck that we had to take that
particular painting off the wall for the night.

While Robin was doing some business in the
bathroom we heard him laughing and saying "stop it!
stop it!". He came out holding the small rubber ducky
with a sailor hat that sits on our toilet, claiming it was
looking at him. Over the course of the night we would
each carry it around for a while and leave it in different
places. Soon we convinced ourselves that the little guy
was watching us. Incredibly funny at the time.

We looked outside at the wintery city, which looked fake,
almost like a diorama of the real thing. The rows of
parked cars looked like cute little toys. The only real
place was our immediate environment.

Eager to watch some mind movies, I went into Ted's
room and turned off the light. With Chemical Brothers
playing on the stereo outside, I felt like I was sitting in a
shoebox in the corner of a deserted dance-floor. I could
see the clearest most perfect little jewel images in my
head. I watched a techno-opera of thousand
microscopic dancing crocodiles. Ted and Robin came
in wondering what I was up to in the dark. Try as they
might they could not see any mind movies. Robin,
who'd done shrooms five or six times, claimed that he
never gets visuals, even at higher doses.

I opened the fridge to get a drink, and was completely
captivated by the scene inside. There was this fantastic
assortment of brightly coloured jars and boxes and
vegetables, all arranged just so in a wonderful
composition. I didn't want to disturb a single item,
instead I called the others over to share my discovery,
and we stood in front of the open fridge for what
seemed like ten minutes. (Highly recommended if you
have a well-stocked fridgle, it was beautiful).

Earlier in the day, Ted had been working on a freelance
illustration job that was due the next night. Near the
end of his trip he began to worry... saying something
like "I know too much now, I won't be able to do my art
the same way now!" He thought he'd have to start the
illustration all over again and redo his whole portfolio
because he'd become a different person from doing
shrooms. Robin and I assured him he'd more or less
be his old self the next day. Despite our assurances,
he wasn't over that fear until he woke up normal the
next day.

Around midnight we decided to walk four or five blocks
to a party that Robin knew of. It was for the cast and
crew of a beer commercial that he'd been involved with.
I had already peaked, and felt at ease enough to
venture out into the world. It was only a diorama world
anyway. The cold air was invigorating. We spent the
walk seeing things in the clouds, which were
illuminated by the city lights. It was amazing how we
could all see the same things, like our imaginations
were linked. The moon was full and looked like a
gigantic bare lightbulb hanging over the diorama city.
The streets were empty and the world felt like ours
alone.

At the party the trip changed drastically for me. The
whole scene seemed very surreal and the presence of
so many strangers made me feel self-conscious. It
was set in another artist's loft, five times the size of
ours. We felt distinctly separate from the rest of the
crowd, spending a lot of time sitting in a row a chairs at
the far end of the party. It felt like we were watching a
TV show. The DJ was really awesome and a few times
I fought the urge to jump into the TV show and dance
with the characters, but I felt too self-conscious. Robin
introduced us to a few people, but I felt completely
unprepared to talk to such attractive, highly
image-conscious TV industry people. Besides, my
hand was dripping with juice from the apple I was
eating, and I'd taken off most of my ego-clothing as
soon as the shrooms hit. Ted was peaking at the party
and the sense of unreality and alienation was even
greater for him.

At home again by 1:30am, we sat around listening to
music and had a pleasant come down. All in all it was
a very pleasant introductory trip.