Okay, so a friend plucked his first yield (a pretty tiny yield, but it was our first time cultivating so I think we'll get better)this past Thursday. Only 6.5 grams dry.
He brought the yield over last night and we started off very small -- a measly gram a piece just to see what kind of potency we were dealing with. We were watching a basketball game, and by halftime I was pleasantly surprised.
The trip had taken effect. Not anything mind blowing of course, but for a gram I was really feeling good. After a couple hours (we smoked out and played Little Big Planet), my friend decided to call it a night because he had to work early the next day.
4.5 grams were left at this point.
This is when things got a little crazy. The shrooms, even though he grew them, were technically mine because I put up all of the money for everything (spores and growing stuff). I kept telling him to eat more, but he was pretty emphatic about stopping at a gram. So I made a calculated decision and said fuck it, I'm eating the rest of these bastards. 4 and a half grams. I mean, in my previous shroom trips (5 or 6 trips), I had never even exceeded 2 and a half grams. What can I say, I guess my tolerance isn't anything to write home about (it's getting better, though!).
It was weird, because more than an hour elapsed and while I felt the shrooms pretty strongly, it wasn't as intense as I expected at that point. Then 2 hours went by. Still not much. In fact, I started getting hungry, so I threw some pork ribs in the oven thinking that my trip was nearing an unceremonious end.
Wrong.
As soon as I started eating, the shrooms hit me like a fucking freight train. There I was, in my kitchen by myself, laughing hysterically for no apparent reason. I felt like I was literally coming out of my own skin, and that fucking pork rib -- UGH. Not a good decision. I felt like Jeffrey Dahmer or some shit. The bones were freaking me out a little bit. I barely could get any inside of me before I ditched the whole eating thing altogether. I smoked a little bit of a bowl and tried smoking a cigarette, but I started to feel a little nauseous. I had this overwhelming feeling to lay down, so I tossed down a blanked in the middle of the living room and just lied down and started watching TV. As I laid there, constantly flipping channels, everything was alive. Everything. The carpet was shifting and morphing, the shadows in the room, the blanket I lied on even -- it was flowing like a damn river or something. It felt so beyond anything that I have felt -- that I just couldn't stop laughing. I was hysterical, like a guy in a mental institution that was just laughing for no reason at all. And were not talking giggling here. I'm talking about laughing so hard that tears were coming out of freaking eyes.
After an hour or so of this extreme, intense feeling -- it started to taper off and at that point I was so exhausted that I was just ready for it to end. The trip began at 8:30 PM and by that time it was nearing 5 in the morning.
The only thing that I regret about this trip is not having a plan of any sort. For the life of me I could not find anything productive to do, and since the shrooms are all gone for the time being, I'm really depressed that I didn't take more advantage of what was the most intense mushroom trip that I have had up to this point in my life.
There's always next time though, and I can ASSURE you that there will be a next time...
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HAIL OUR NEW OTD KING
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