This happened to me a few weeks ago, when I wrote this. As a background, I study pressure point bodywork (Shiatsu) and I've tripped a large amount of times in the past.
There is no cohesive way to begin this. It has been very intense recently, which is saying a lot for the kind of lifestyle my friends and I follow. Extermination of my overt reliance on rational thought is essential to my survival. Balance of idealism, art, and logic is now the goal for which I work.
At the beginning of the month of December, I was faced with a lot of loose ends. I set out to finish what I had started at varied points around and about the previous year. Small things, like organizing my room, getting some new clothes, and large things, like getting a cellphone(!) and fixing annoying school situations.
Procrastination and self criticism aside, I did really fucking well. I solved a fuckton of problems that had been bothering me for a while, I passed all of my Shiatsu finals with the help of a friend, and once Christmas' inevitable family bullshit was done with I was walking on air. Challenges and obstacles buckled beneath confidence and will.
Around the end of the month, my friend Aimee suggested that on New Years we could hang out and do shrooms. Symbolically, this would be the perfect idea. The year would end with a bang. (No pun intended.) With all of my short term goals done with, I would be in position where I wouldn't have to worry about my future for the first time... Well, ever. And the idea of shrooming in this state? Jaw dropping. With New Years, the recent chapter of my life which had brought me so much sadness and joy would draw to a freakishly poetic close. With all of my school aspirations, all of my accomplishments coming full circle- All I'd have to do is sit back, study hard, and reap the benefits. No hassles.
But perfection never comes easily. Regardless of goals completed in abundance, I still felt like something was primally wrong. I have this feeling sometimes, and it always precipitates doom. There was something there, deep in the back of my head, that something was coming. Something dangerous. I tried to dismiss it, I tried to remedy it, but to no avail. Everything proceeded to go batshit fucking loco.
The night before New Years, (and the entire day I knew it was coming,) I am informed that our plan, despite being agonizingly micromanaged and checked and double checked in every way, failed due to somebody fucking up. The details are trivial and pointless, as is the blame. Having given up the opportunity to go to NYC with my brother in order to shroom, I was in shock. Complete success to complete failure in a single instant message. My kiosk for the year amounting to nothing more than attending a college party filled with robotic jocks and slut machines. I couldn't even be angry or spiteful, because my situation wasn't even all that bad, it was just symbolically empty and unfulfilling.
Days later, I didn't know what to think, or how to react. I felt raped. I was disgusted at my failure and the mediocrity that I had invited upon myself. It was at this point that I became really, really fucking bummed. And when not even a blunt can help ease the chaos of depression, I usually regress into long periods of angsty introspection that really end up making things worse until I repress it and force myself to go on. (Bad, bad idea.)
On January 6th, I decided that the only way to recover from such an incredulously deep mental hole was to give a proverbial jolt to my mental centers by taking all of the mushrooms I had bought for New Years, including the dose I acquired for Aimee. About 6 grams of extremely potent dried mushrooms, I was shooting for level 5. I've never done it before, and I was excited to try.
I made some tea and added all of the mushrooms. This way, there is a much stronger peak and no stomach discomfort. Definitely my favorite way of taking them, and I highly suggest it.
I was suddenly coming up way faster and way harder than I ever had before. I immediately initiated quarantine. I locked my door, took out the key, and hid it in my closet. I took the knife I was GOING to use to slice up some fruit during the trip and hid that too. I then turned off my clock, turned off my cellphone, and turned off my monitor. I then started playing a Holosync track to promote Theta brainwave activity. (The brainwaves achieved in deep sleep and deep meditation.) After half an hour, there would be only silence for 6 hours.
I hopped in my bed, popped open some water, and relaxed. I began to think about a totem I had drawn earlier in the day, a linear pattern of life and death cycles. The sigils in it assembled in such a way that, totally by accident(?), it made a catchy wordplay. It's not as simple as you think.
"death, birthed, the self, wanted, the self, divided, the self, shattered, the self, birthed, death"
Another thing that stuck in my head was a conversation that I had with my friend Mike while we were coming off of E weeks ago. I don't even completely remember every aspect of it, but it had something to do with the nature of the universe and determinism. There was something about it, and I'm not entirely sure what. It was extremely inconclusive. It was also fucked up because I discovered that I had been fucking up blunt procedure for months totally unbeknownst to me and nobody ever pointed it out. I then thought about another subject in the conversation about inherent human nature and what people's base motivations are. (That becomes important later.) Immediately after this conversation we went downstairs to meet quite possibly the most selfish, speedy, fucked up girl that I have ever met. (And I've met quite a few.) The two experiences almost ruined an otherwise perfect E party for me. For days afterward the whole thing was really depressing, and as the mushrooms kicked in, I started to become really worried and sad about it.
In the mean time, my bunk bed, covered in sheets that I use to block out sun in the morning, reacted with my black light and turned into a massive, glowing, psychedelic sarcophagus. Every time I closed my eyes for a second the blackness of my eyelids was replaced with shimmering, cascading hieroglyphics of different symbols and colors. my hair trailed and lengthened and shrunk again. My fingers radiated with subtle, dark rainbow tones and my heartbeat turned into a thick, pumping rhythm that made my mind pulse with energy and thought. I suddenly became inextricably drawn to the idea of something in my mind. I wasn't sure what it was at first, and it felt exhilarating and foreboding simultaneously. Then I figured it out what it was. Without getting into it, I merged with a very, very powerful symbolic being.
Minutes later, my memory shut off and I don't remember what happened for a pretty long period. I have small recollections and images in my head, but I can't tell what was a dream and what wasn't. I kept having this sort of 'phasing' experience where I would think, "Man, I wish I was in my be-" ::In my bed:: "I wish I had my wa-" ::Water bottle in my hand::
At this point I had a long philosophical war inside of my head, arguing back and forth my motivations for healing people and the possibility that maybe I was only doing it out of projection of narcissism or being gratification/affection starved. After a long, long time of teetering on the edge of going completely fucking nuts I came to a satisfactory conclusion. I don't want to feel pain as a result of someone else's fear and then just dump it on another. As of that moment I am sick of perpetuating a sadist agenda; I want it to end with me. With others pain removed, I will prosper just as others will. This conclusion made me extremely depressed for a week afterwards however, as it was tumultuous to entertain the notion of how much work still needs to be done. But that notion can be overcome, as long as nothing really bad happens in the upcoming weeks to make me lose faith in humanity.
As great as dispelling that worry was, the trip didn't exactly get much better from this point because I was still pretty fucking terrified about the fact that everyone in the world is suffering, and on the personal side my friends are going through extremely pivotal and dangerous points in their lives that could drastically alter their future, and they all seem so sad and frustrated at not being able to do anything about it. I feel as if the winter right now is rubbing off on everyone and making them exhausted emotionally and physically, and even though my attitude was no longer in imminent disaster mode, I was still feeling very bleak and disenchanted and pessimistic about the future, and there wasn't really any way to address it. Everyone just seemed like they were in despair.
I decided to turn on my cellphone (MISTAKE) to call up my friend Snake, and I had some conversation that I don't really remember. Later he would inform me that I was babbling like a maniac about Aliens, Cher, and wanting to fuck every woman on the planet.
Slowly from this point on I remember very little before coming down around 5-6am. My brain felt utterly exhausted. In the following days I reflected on the experience and I came to lots of conclusions that have greatly shaped the way I think about myself and how I relate to people.
If you're still reading after all of that, I would like to hear people's thoughts on what they consider constitutes truly helping each other, not just donating to charity and bragging about it, or projecting narcissism, or being guilt tripped.
Also, here are some things that I wrote down while peaking that I don't remember:
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I- am enlightened.
... Get it?
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Dune.
Word power.
Break it.
Key.
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Got it. Fags?
The Pope?
And more importantly,
ME???
It's the same thing! Congratulations.
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And... -THERE'S my pants!
- Thank god
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We only die... Because we ACCEPT IT- as an inevitability.
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Something about vaginas, Kennedy, Satan, art, and a fag named Mordred.
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It had -something- to do with Anchovies.
(And yeah, love is the law, or something)
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My favorite response so far has been from my dad, when talking about drug taking:
Dad: "You know, you may not think so, but I've... Well, I've seen the dark side of a lot of things in my life, I mean, I used to travel with Italian musicians, and... Well, you get the idea."
--------------------
Nothing is True. Everything is permitted.
Everything is true. Nothing is 'permitted'.
Every man and woman is a star.
Each star is it's own prison.
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