MystikMushroom said:

I used to be according to western medicine "morbidly obese". I was over 250-pounds at five feet five inches.

Two years of retrospect, im DELIGHTED with my health and physical well-being. Shedding those pounds was terribly diffuclt (imagine ALL the fat-solluble toxins expediting into one's system)...but I am so much more "who I need to be" today than I was before.

A subsequent mushroom trip was most interesting. I remember hearing wispers in my head. Thousands of voices wispering. Every now and then one voice would take forefront over the others.

I remmber hearing these voices, along with a strange internal sensation. It was if there were "hands" or a "snake" inside of me. It was totally benevolent. It was just trying to "figure out" what I had done to myself.

I litterally heard:

"hmm...ohh...whaaa? Oh...I see...yes....ok...."

I knew then, that the mushroom was probing my physical body. It was going, "this is wierd...this isn't how a normal human is set-up..ok, i see why this was rigged the way it was..."

And INSTANTLY...(this was SO profound to my every-day worrying mind) I got an impression, or more of a "knowing" that I would never have trouble with my insides ever again.

It's been oh, at least a year since my last psychedelic trip...oh i've done nitrous and salvia...but no tryptamines. . . I have a feeling I just need to go back to the mushroom once more to "remind" myself of what I am working towards.

Thoughts? 

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A godzillion thoughts. At once.

You seem like a very open and high spirited individual, and quite frankly I'm all teary right now. (Could be due to the god damned HPPD, my emotions is runnig rampid and I'm having zaps, but still.)

The trip you explained made sense to me. Except for the part where you said nobody could trip harder of course, heheh, my experience with 2 Hoffman millenniums was way harder (longer, more eternal, more more and so on ;p)

The Deja-Vu was impeccable. I remembered everything. I foresaw it all, and I didn't want to. And I knew I didn't want to, and I knew that not wanting to would make the unreal real.

It was a repeated and prolonged version of the few salvia experiences I had.

I was the eternal hallucination of myself, and I have never existed and everything I had ever known was ... fake ... an incredibly simple construct, multiplied with itself to the magnitude of eternal resurgence - to make up this incredible dimention I call life.

An example; situation: You and your friends are having a drink and a cigarette in your kitchen. You realize you have all power in the world, you are God - the allmighty and incredible. You exclaim this with great pride, and before the last word is uttered ... you put your hand on the red hot stove and scold yourself.

Your friends are laughing. And so are you.

This simple situation, multiplied with itself and augmented to a fractal pattern moving in lightspeed - and with a microscopic dot on a microscopic dot, somewhere in this macrocosmos, representing the "me" - is the culmination and nadir of life.

Everything is a part of, and the whole of, this situation. (A part of being a part of - to put it in Gomp.)

I was filled with a terrible feeling - an unexplainable feeling of being the omnipotent God over the *nothing* that percieves itself as *me*/*the universe*/*everything* - and knowing. Knowing that it isn't, knowing that it wasn't ... knowing that if I was to go about my life, I would have to fool myself into believing that my life infact was real, even though I had the irrefragable evidence to prove that it wasn't.

I was alone, I was nothing, I had nothing, I would never have anything.

I started a joke. The joke was on me. I had burned hands.

I could go on forever, I could explain this trip from an infinity of different angles and approaches - yet it would never explain how little I exist.

All is futile,
I'm a shitpile,
I'm pathetic,
I'm not ethic,
I'm void.

Its just me.

Hence: I can do what I want. I can be what I want. I can rule. I can be ruled.

I am my own God.

Point: I havent had a decent psychedelic experience for about 8-10 months, because every trip(shrooms, mdma, 5-meo-mipt, 2c-t-7) after that LSD burnout was a recurring deja-vu. The more tripped out I was, the closer to the center of the cyclone, or the little situation explained above, I got.

(sidenote: I had a burnout on 5-meo-mipt and chanel ecstasy on new years eve, pretty much a repeat of the acid/salvia, allthough I didn't have "the fear" - because of the vast amounts of E, I guess)

I knew where I was going. I didn't want to burn my hand. I didn't want to feel like shit. I didn't want to know that I was shit, to be able to know I was God.

The point, yeah, I'm on it.

I don't need a reminder. The reminders are everywhere. Every time you scare yourself, every time you depress yourself, every time you are happy, every time you feel anything at all - is a reminder of reminding yourself.

However, I have thought lately, that maybe I want a trip. A trip to celebrate my nothingness, my godliness and my shitpileness ...

(sidenote: Eventually I was able to eat mdma/mda without totally flipping out, so I've done that alot lately, hence the HPPD and brain zaps - which we all pray will leave me soon, right!? yeah!)

But something in me tells me not to remind myself. Its the same procedure as last year, James. The same Procedure as every year.

This may, or may not apply to you.

In the mysticism forum, there is a deja vu reminder post. Look it up. (I lost my train of thought, I'm at work, and there are old people running around talking slooooowly about mainframes and policies and utter crap like fucking twisted ethernet-cables and whateverthefuck. </moodswing>)

Peace! 

Huehuecoyotl said:

Oh man are you in for a surprise...

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Please elaborate