A month or two ago I made up a tea using about 20 - 25
small dried basidiocarps, probably around 7 grams worth, I don't know. Drank it
slowly and waited, like usual. Change beginning. Music on. I even had my
headphones and drumsticks ready. : -) Prepared for a good experience. But wait,
things aren't happening like they usually do. Can't concentrate on the music.
Mind and thoughts elsewhere. Can't even complete a simple task like walking
across the room to turn the music down or off. Do I want it down or off? What do
I want? Mind too occupied. Little focus. Ego & time, where are they? All in
all, probably as close to a "bad trip" as I've ever had. I was alone
the whole time, during the day in my friend's apartment (which may not have been
the ideal setting, although I've tripped there before... combined with the fact
that my speakers were stolen out of my car the previous night, which might not
have left me with the ideal set). It was one of the most bizarre experiences of
my life. Much lot of it was very funny and seemed to make perfect sense at the
time. I laughed a lot. Like I got the cosmic joke?
I can remember the beginning of it the best, so I'll
give a shot at describing it. I remember feeling like I had been introduced to a
secret club, a club that is always there, but few realize it. A club of pure
thought and communication... nothing physical required. My musical &
literary heroes (dead & living), some people I work with, and even my
parents were a part of this club. Central to this new understanding of things,
was a new and unique form of communication. I remember laughing because it
seemed so stupid for people to be using telephones to communicate... this was
the real thing... like how communication takes place after death. I also felt as
if people had shown up outside because of me. There were some folks outside
talking in Spanish. This triggered the "people showing up" scenario.
It seemed like I could the understand the Spanish they were speaking, even
though I don't speak Spanish. I had the curtains drawn, so I never actually saw
them. I like the sound of Spanish. I could hear them well with the music off.
The paper thin walls of apartment helped. So these people were outside and it
seemed to me like they knew I was now in the club (or at least understood it)
and they wanted me to come outside. It's ok, don't be scared... come on. They
seemed friendly, like they wanted to help. I remember considering going out. I'm
sure glad I didn't! I was far too inebriated to be among others. I remember
saying out loud (hey, if I could hear & understand them, they could hear
& understand me), "Hi guys." I was standing in the corner of the
room, hadn't moved in a while. I think I was shaking. I felt very sick &
scared. What was happening? The people outside seemed comforting. "Well,
I'd like to come out, but you know how it goes, I just can't right now."
And right then, swear to God, I heard the Spanish speakers outside leave. And
they sounded sad. Bummed. Disappointed. The new guy in the club doesn't want to
play. "Sorry guys, didn't mean to let you down." These where the
entheogen people, part of the club I had just found out about. The southwest is
full of them, but I didn't know this before. One thing these entheogen people
did was drive cars. Now a big part of this experience, as I was to find out
afterwards upon reflection, had to do with things I see, hear, and think about
everyday. I deliver pizzas all day, so the sound of a car engine starting is
something I must hear/do 50 or 60 times a day. The entheogen people (who lived
the apartments around me as well) would get excited as I talked to them about
how I had discovered the club. When they would talk back to me, I would hear
sounds that seemed like language, like communication. Who knows if they were
actually words, it made sense to me at the time. I'd respond. They liked
conversing. They liked a build up. The excitement in my voice would build to a
climax (like music) and end at a precise moment, get this, with the sound of a
car starting outside. This happened many times and I was in control of it. The
entheogen people were listening & reacting to me. I was having fun at this
point. I was amazed at what I was discovering. The entheogen people were average
folks who had discovered a secret, lived in the southwest, and drove cars a lot.
OK, I admit, it's nothing more than a ridiculous over-amplification of myself
projected into my understanding of the world around me. Mushrooms, naturally,
were the key to belonging in the club. And like I said above, even my parents
were in the club. I don't know where or why I got this idea. I remember asking
my Dad out loud, "Dad, you knew about the mushrooms the whole time... why
didn't you ever say anything?" The communication seemed so strong, so
direct, so real... and what I was discovering seemed so amazing... that I felt
like if I had picked up the phone and called my Dad during that moment of
realization, he would have known exactly what was going on with me and would
have shared in my excitement. One must discover the club on their own, but once
known the members are always with you. Whew, glad I didn't make that phone call.
Explaining that one later on would have been something.
A lot of it had to do with communication with people I
feel close to. And the communication only seemed to require that there was no
noise and that I spoke out loud & paid close attention. The mushrooms put
one into the necessary aesthetic mode for the communication could take place.
Good sound is the key. Heightened awareness. The paper thin walls of the
apartment complex actually seemed to be picking up what I spoke and resonating
it so that it would travel out. I could speak to anyone who understood how it
worked, anywhere... spiritually. Distance did not matter. Quite an apartment
complex, wouldn't you say?
The trip proceeded to get more and more bizarre. A lot I
can't remember, and some bits that I can I wouldn't know how to express. I
didn't really feel bad until I started to come down and get my ego/rationality
back. I felt really embarrassed. How big a damn fool can I be? I sat there for
quite a while just thinking to myself, "What the hell just happened?"
I was very shaken. Ah, those times when you'd give just about anything for
things just to be normal again.