Welcome to the Shroomery Message Board! You are experiencing a small sample of what the site has to offer. Please login or register to post messages and view our exclusive members-only content. You'll gain access to additional forums, file attachments, board customizations, encrypted private messages, and much more!
First post, first trip report. Hi Shroomery! Everybody involved took an 1/8th of cubes with average-good potency. It was my 9th trip and the rest of the group had all tripped before numerous times. This is a long report; anyone looking to waste a few minutes... look no further.
J calls up on Sunday night and tells me he?s planning on shrooming. The group is J, C, C?s girlfriend K, and our mutual friend W. I haven?t tripped in nearly a year, yet the previous night I repeatedly stated my intense desire to shroom again as soon as possible. I reflect on the situation over a cigarette and decide to roll over despite anxiety about my lack of preparedness, the setting and the group. Nobody likes to be a hypocrite; the mushrooms obviously heard my call and sought me out, and it would be foolish to deny them. This warped logic made much more sense than my more rational pre-trip concerns.
The group finishes munching as I show up at 10:45pm. I throw together a PB&M sandwich and finish downing mine fifteen minutes later. We toss in Fear & Loathing and soon find ourselves somewhere around Barstow. The mushrooms onset incredibly fast and there is a marked intensity in the room that I feel out of sync with. C is momentarily absorbed with the couch he had moved in earlier in the day. He contemplates selling it for fifteen hundred dollars, claiming we could buy enough fungus to ?shroom an entire weekend.? The rest of us decide it?s best to work our way through this trip before selling off furniture for drug money.
?It feels like we?re the knights of the roundtable,? C observes, which I note is valid outside the fact we?re all sitting on L-shaped couches and there is no table. He blurts out the word "table" a number of times then blasts into his room to get a new shirt for his girlfriend. He jumps back into the living room yelling "shirtshirtshirtshirtshirtshirtshirt" and spends the next five minutes repeatedly saying it. "I sound like one of those dudes... you know, those porno dudes in Vegas." W replies, "you sound like no guys, anywhere, EVER," which provided the only real outburst of giggles for the night.
Twenty minutes into the movie J wanders off to his room and W and C follow suit. K starts asking me about my life and I answer hesitantly, thinking I shouldn?t be directly affirming the ego as I?m trying to let go into the trip. "No I'm not working right now." "I'm 23." "I'm going into my seventh year of college... it's a long story." "Yeah I'm worthless, but at least I'm fun to hang out with." She mentions how "weird" mushrooms are and I ask if she has tripped before. "Oh yeah, lots of times." I start telling her my thoughts on what causes good trips and bad trips, mainly to reinforce my faith that I have the tools and the mindset to keep this experience from turning ugly. K?s giving off good vibes and I feel reassured that she has experience with mushrooms. I had already convinced myself that C was going down tonight and she was inevitably going to be dragged into it.
C is in J's room acting like a maniac, throwing shit around and babbling nonsense. I?m forty-five minutes in; everybody else about an hour. The apartment has a circular flow to it: living room, hallway, J?s bedroom, kitchen, living room. Jeff and I start walking laps, which I attribute to general unease with coming up. We take a few laps then stop. C enters the room and I put my hand out: "there are normal people in here, we don't want any of your insanity." Yeah, I?m being a dick, but I?m hoping that clear rejection will allow him to realize that his actions are screwing with my trip. HST is leaving Vegas, and once Gary Busey enters the scene it's time to start doing laps again.
C holes up in the bathroom with the only working toilet. He calls K to join him and starts complaining that he?s going to die and that we need to call for help. The rest of us agree this isn?t going to happen, and I feel safe in my knowledge of mushrooms that he?s cool. I should have taken his pulse to pretend that I'm qualified to make medical claims and tried to chill him out, but at the time it seemed right to leave him with his girlfriend. W wanders out to the back porch and tries to convince us to join him, but J is set that he?s not going to step foot outside tonight.
I?m starting to worry about my stomach. I've puked once before on shrooms due to an upset stomach and have an unfortunate mental connection between coughing fits and vomiting harkening back to my early days of fat bong rips. I spend twenty minutes trying to relax, but to no avail Smoker?s lungs force me to cough, and every cough feels like a serious threat to my stomach. I barge into the bathroom and say "you don't have to leave, but I'm going to vomit.? C retreats to his room and K joins J in his room. I puke for a few minutes and when I come out of the bathroom J is tripping out on the connections between all our social networks. I find out that J has been extremely paranoid about having to deal with security or cops. I wonder if J?s paranoia is influencing K so I try to reassure them both that we?re cool and nothing bad is going to happen. I was talking out of my ass, but it couldn't hurt.
I go outside to meet up with W, but he?s back in the apartment. I contemplate wandering off and tripping alone but feel the need to see this madness through. J later said he had come very close to leaving without telling anyone, and probably stayed for the same reasons. I smoke a cigarette or two in the only time I had to myself during the trip.
So yeah, I'm going into my seventh year of college in the fall after taking most of year six off to do some ?soul-searching? and general slacking. I entered school as a computer science major, realized I hate computer science and was too stubborn to change my major. I recently decided to graduate in sociology and have since tried to convince myself I'm not just taking the easy road out. I realized that sociology is a broad social science that "tries to explain why people behave in the ways they do, and I?m an idiot if I can?t make that challenging for myself." Class readings about poverty, rape, and other delightful social issues proved to be very interesting mind fodder while tripping.
Back inside, J and W are having a typical alpha-male discussion about aggression and how they can beat people up. I call them stupid alpha monkeys and espouse the virtues of love. These are two guys who majored in drama in a very competitive program and are very militant about their heterosexuality. Actors tend to have big personalities and big personalities tend to attract women... I wonder to what extent the vehement protection of their sexuality is a defense mechanism. Dudes love to sing and dance. They get off on show-tunes. If I have to do individual research within sociology it might as well involve going to parties with lots of hot wannabe actresses, singers and dancers, so I carefully store this question in memory.
We go back outside for another smoke and KC skates up... wearing a blood-stained shirt. We?ve never met before and I assume he's just a neighbor from the complex. It?s his birthday and he?s rolling, although at first he claims he?s just ?drunk and stoned.? He plays a few songs on the piano, which I highly suggest while tripping. Who the fuck has a piano in their shithole ghetto apartment, and what are the odds of some rolling dude coming over and busting out 13 years of experience while you're shrooming? Very pimp. J had convinced C he's cool so the dude is running around being a dipshit again. About forty-five minutes of relative normality have passed since he first locked himself in the bathroom. We're all hanging out in J's room and notice KC?s shirt. KC gives a detailed account of hanging a framed poster of Jim Morrison that fell, shattered, and cut him up. It?s a lie, but I?m still impressed he managed to come up with the story spontaneously. J keeps yelling "I have ONE THING I want to say," but every time he starts to speak C or KC interrupt him.
The third roommate Z shows up around 2:30am and J finally chills out since there is someone sober to deal with any potential threats. KC spends twenty minutes trying to recruit us to go back to his place to smoke bowls. He leaves, stating he'll be back with half a pound... okaaaaaay. All we had was a half-eighth that was being saved for just this moment. It's 3:00am, four hours in, and we attempt to smoke a couple bowls. The pipe ends up with C and he stands there with it, constantly interrupting every attempt at conversation. After a couple minutes I tell him "take a hit or hand me the fucking pipe." He moves away from me but doesn't take a hit. Thirty seconds later I repeat myself. Finally I jump out of my seat quickly to drive the point home. He runs off into a corner to take a rip and hands me the pipe. C managed to obstruct every attempt at smoking weed over the next couple hours.
Over the course of the night I've heard J repeat the words "it's all about respect," without explaining what he meant by it. I try to put some focus into the conversation and give my bro J an opportunity to speak. "Question for you J. You keep saying 'It's all about respect.? What the hell are you talking about?? This unleashed his first shitstorm of repressed energy from the night. He repeats himself a number of times partly because he has the floor and doesn't want to give it up, but also because C keeps trying to interject with inane bullshit that could only be avoided by one person dominating the dialogue. It bothers me that he wasn't answering my question with the level of abstraction I was hoping for, yet everyone was commenting on the profundity of what he was saying (especially K, who had been quiet and observant most of the night).
?That's it... I'm leaving... that sums everything up," W exclaims in reference to one of J's comments that I thought was relatively simple. "C... you disrespected me by fucking up my room, and when you were holed up I was the one that came in and told you everything was ok. Then you came back into my room and continued to fuck it up. That's what pissed me off." In retrospect, it was a pretty insightful comment into one aspect of respect. You disrespected me, I turned the other cheek and offered respect, and then you continued to disrespect me... that FRUSTRATED me. Fair enough. Something was frustrating me as well. The conversation focused on me for a moment, but I directed attention away from myself and back onto the conversation. I was jealous that I wasn't going to get a chance to have my say the way J did, yet I was the one that focused attention on him in the first place and turned away the one chance to focus attention on myself.
J starts recounting all the craziness that had happened so far and nonchalantly says "and then KC showed up and everybody was like 'Oh KC, KC, I wanna suck your dick.'" Earlier in the night I sensed what I felt was sexual tension between J and K, and later I felt the same thing between K and KC when I was sitting outside with them. When J made this comment K sort of gasped, giggled uncomfortably, and almost gave him a punch on the shoulder. I think she held back out of fear of appearing to justify J?s comment by acknowledging it. I immediately made eye contact with W, knowing that he would have a confused look on his face as if to say "I'm no fucking queer, how dare you lump me in with that comment." I look at K wondering if she thought the comment was directed specifically at her, being the only woman in the room. Did C pick up on anything? I turn to the kitchen and see the oldest man in the room taking slow, pounding steps, his hands protruding from his chest like a tyrannosaurus, repeating "I like cookies... I like cookies? in monotone.
3:45am and we?re back on the porch. A coked up neighbor walks by and comes inside to make a phone call. He leaves and W bounces soon after. J gets going again and starts to rip into C for his behavior during the trip. This goes on for at least a half-hour and quickly reaches a point of extreme over-kill. C walks inside to clean up and J looks to K and I to justify his frustration. "He was completely out of control, right?" K and I agree with J, but I felt that C's behavior was all part of the experience; an unfolding of events during a trip that occur exactly as they are supposed to, regardless of one's expectations. I adopted this belief a few years ago to combat the sinking feeling that I was "missing something" during a peak and a general sense of anticipation for something more as I'm coming down. It usually works as a sort of mantra to go with the flow and accept things as they happen.
I go home, crash out, and wake up the next morning feeling frustrated. Last night I had been accepting, but without the drug in my system I realize I?m pissed off at C. He shit on all of our trips. I was never able to zone out and let the mushrooms come over me due to his influence. Even the moments of relative serenity while he was trapped in the bathroom were tainted by his earlier behavior. There were a couple moments where the trip zoomed into a level 3, but I had to maintain control and keep it at a light level 2 most of the night to resist the insanity coming at me from all sides.
W had commented "C, I've never seen a person as fucked up as you were earlier." Neither had I. I've always accepted that that kind of behavior is possible, perhaps even commonplace on mushrooms. I can?t blame him for having a bad experience, especially when I saw it coming an hour before we dosed.
Or can I? It was all a show? that?s the only way to explain it. He exaggerated his normal behavior while tripping and found an unreceptive audience. He was ignored and went off to the bathroom to pretend he was dying, hoping he could gather more attention and concern. This didn't last long and he continued his previous behavior once J pulled him out of the hole. Even 4-5 hours into the trip he continued to act in the same way, grasping for attention but unable to get anything more than anger in response. At the end of the night, he was professing his love for mushrooms... a point of view not shared so soon by the previous five people I have witnessed having a bad trip. He was entirely unfazed by the fact that he stared certain death (from his perspective) in the eyes mere hours earlier.
Maybe I?m wrong, and it doesn?t really matter. Why did my acceptance of C?s behavior as part of the experience turn so quickly into frustration the next day? Why was I so quick to get upset with C during the trip, and why did I consistently brush him off instead of trying to help him out? There?s so much I could have done to try to diffuse the situation, but instead I internalized and fought everything and had a fairly uncomfortable onset and peak as a result. When J was talking I sat around thinking that he wasn?t being insightful? yet I wasn?t actively trying to contemplate what he was saying and find meaning in it. I engaged in a lot of self-defeating behavior that night, and soon found most of my frustration aimed at myself.
I spent the next few days contemplating the trip and trying to break down walls and illusions in my head (framed in the Zen ?everything is an illusion? style of mindset). The least meaningful trip I?ve ever experienced gave me the most to think about. However, the one wall I couldn?t begin to break through was a general fear of writing. I imagined myself writing this as a story instead of a more straight-forward trip report.
Would I present C as an outright buffoon? I could justify his actions by delving into his life story, a collection of awful soul-shattering experiences he?s endured since his last trip years ago, but then I would have to go deeper into character development and point out that even his sober behavior can be frustrating/annoying at times... and so much of that behavior screams ?defense mechanism.? K would be portrayed as almost angelic, since she was just this beautiful being giving off nothing but good vibes the whole time. I?d have to play up my perception of sexual tension for the purposes of drama? put thoughts and feelings in the minds of my friends. I know W only trips to get fucked up, and doesn?t seem to separate shrooms in his mind from coke, K, booze, etc. My beliefs on that mindset and where it comes from are mostly negative, yet I have no reason to diss W because he?s the man in all other aspects of his personality. I just can?t get around bias; I?d take it easy on J because he?s my closest friend in the group. I would present myself as the voice of reason, which feels like a cop-out even if it was the reality.
J said a number of foolish things during his main rant on respect and assorted tangents. J and C work at the same restaurant and like to make bold claims about how they ?own the place? despite the fact that they are just waiters. They are respected by the managers and seem to have set themselves at the top of the social scene among waiters/hosts, but I decided to jump in and challenge J?s views on reality. I told him it?s silly to make claims like ?they can?t fire us? or ?nothing would get done without us there.? I commended J on his pride in his work and what he?s accomplished at the restaurant, but maintained that none of us are that high on the totem pole. Don?t think for a second that they couldn?t just hire a new waiter and be back on track within a week. As I recall, I worded my comment very mildly and expected J to consider it for a second and agree wholeheartedly. I was hoping this would get us off the topic of respect and maybe we could take turns dissing The Man and His System for a while.
J denied me immediately, seemingly unable to understand what I thought was a simple and undeniable fact: we are financially powerless, we all live in the zone between poverty/working-class wages, and none of us fulfill a task so monumental that we are indispensable. I didn?t view this as an attempt on J?s part to grasp onto and defend his ego? in my mind, this was pure ignorance. If he was so unwilling to accept this simple truth, how would he respond to a much deeper probing of his mind and actions ? my perception of why he is who he is. With the exception of K, I know a tremendous amount of personal information about everyone in the group. Dark secrets, painful pasts; the experiences that have shaped my friends and myself.
We are all in our early-mid 20s, living in an ultra-materialistic area of California. Everyone in the group has been or currently is addicted to some substance. J and I are self-admitted addicts, which is why I stay the hell away from hard drugs. J and W are aspiring actors. C just wants to stay on his feet and get as far away from his past as possible. I?d like to make a living writing, but that?s a total crapshoot and I really have no fucking clue what I want to do in life. When we get together for drinks we laugh the loudest and we laugh last. I?d like to think we?re all good-hearted, engaging, interesting human beings. When I hang out with this crew I always feel humanity seeping out the pores, a compliment I couldn?t bestow on all my friends. I don?t think the story of this trip was particularly interesting, but the characters could be. We got all the makings of a good story: drugs, drama, alienation, addiction, confused youth, secrets, twists. The whole ?what?s wrong with my generation? angle set in Southern California, where everybody secretly wants to live. (Admit it)
The one major conclusion I?ve come to is that trip #10 needs to be solo. I?ve tried to trip solo twice before and failed, always seeking out sober people to keep me occupied. I?ve convinced myself that I will inevitably suffer stomach problems and possibly puke when I shroom, so I?m going to try a different method of preparation and confront that in my mind. The last trip warded off any potential elements of ego loss or deep personal introspection, but the work I?ve done since then should give me plenty to think about. I?m supposed to be picking up tonight (as I post this), so I?ll probably get my wish in the next couple days. The voice recorder is full on batteries and I intend to rant and rave at myself for hours, lying in the darkness of my room.
This really was a story. You were projecting the events from your point of view, and in doing so, you made clear what you intended to gain from the experience.
I liked the story and your way of thinking.
Did you meet up with the others from that night and get their take after the events were over? Did you get an opinion by asking non-biasing questions? Did the feedback confirm what you believed had happened?
You had confirmed to yourself that at least one reason you were there was to observe the others from socialogical point of view. However you made it clear that you wanted to understand their minds rather than their actions. By them getting caught up on their egos and denying you that information, were you upset at their immaturity or the lack of knowledge attained, and thus a failed agenda? Or on the other hand, were you expecting them re-iterate what you were thinking thus confirming your own thoughts?
"As I recall, I worded my comment very mildly and expected J to consider it for a second and agree wholeheartedly. I was hoping this would get us off the topic of respect and maybe we could take turns dissing The Man and His System for a while.
J denied me immediately, seemingly unable to understand what I thought was a simple and undeniable fact: we are financially powerless, we all live in the zone between poverty/working-class wages, and none of us fulfill a task so monumental that we are indispensable."
Sorry. I got caught up on this angle and find it interesting.
You cannot start new topics / You cannot reply to topics HTML is disabled / BBCode is enabled
Moderator: psilocybinjunkie, Asante, naum 772 topic views. 0 members, 10 guests and 0 web crawlers are browsing this forum.
[ Toggle Favorite | Print Topic | Stats ]