A. Hofmann
To fathom Hell or soar angelic, just take a pinch
- Merits
- 42
Well, last night at about 22:00, I had my first DMT-session. About 25mg N, N-Dimethyltryptamine taken orally as vapour through the GVG. I had left my screens behind, so I mixed it with a little pot before setting off on my journey. There were three of us, all smoking pot, but only I was partaking of DMT. We were down at a small dock in a quiet neighbourhood near my friend's house. Some of the trees are imported, and all are overgrown around the dock itself, towering over our heads and crowding the view of anything but the Moon. This gives a very untamed, prehistoric flavour to the venue. I sprinkled the DMT onto the weed, tossed the mixture about a bit with my pipe tool, and sat on the only bench. My friends kept a respectful distance, standing at the rail, and I light up and inhaled.
As I held in the first hit, I became extremely nervous, which in itself startled me: I have never been nervous heading into a psychedelic experience. Maybe DMT would be different. The first hit did almost nothing but get me stoned. I saw some red and green trails in the sky, but nothing dramatic happened after a minute. I realised that I was a little too nervous. I got off the bench and sat lotus-style on the floor of the dock itself, breathing deeply, trying to calm myself. I really noticed the crickets and other nocturnal insects now. Their noise was truly rather loud. When my heart-rate had fallen sufficiently, I clicked my lighter again and took a long pull. The taste of the DMT was noticeable this time. I recall talk of burnt plastic when smoked, but in the GVG, it's nearly fragrant: a kind of sweet taste. I couldn't taste marijuana this time, so I knew I'd got what I'd come for. This hit I held in for a good 15 seconds too, until my lungs wouldn't let me hold it in.
Before I'd even blown out the vapour, my world began to shift. The first change was the sound of the insects, which grew louder and louder, until it took over my ears. But it now no longer sounded like insects: it was, rather, one long, thundering, reverberating echo in my brain. The sound was so overpowering that I immediately became synaesthetic. The visuals, which by now were just as prominent as the sound, began to shift and change with every fluctuation in pitch. The leaves were taking on wild, angular shapes, and the spaces of sky between them formed immensely complex patterns and images. The Moon was like a silver globe with blue, green, and red edges, sparkling and wavering beyond the trees.
At this point, I felt the fear return. It had only been a few seconds! Where was this about to take me? My heart has not beat so hard in a long time. I began breathing deeply again, trying to calm myself. The colours were intense and began to change more rapidly as I breathed. I felt as though I may need to scream. How else would I know I was still here? But the DMT did not seem sympathetic. I drifted farther and farther from normal reality. I could no longer think to myself in words, no longer form concepts in my mind's eye. The sound and colour and my heartbeat seemed to be the same thing: all unceasingly intensifying. My eyes were closed now: I was too frightened of what would become of the outside world. A particular pattern now emerged in the fluctuating lights. Far too intricate to ever recreate, but wonderful in its intricacy. It radiated outward from the centre, yellow and gold, and at the very edges of my vision cooled to a deep blue. The radiation of these colours continued for some time, increasing in speed as I watched, until they were so fast that the image seemed static.
It was a face. It did not then, and it does not now in memory, look like a face. But I knew, as one does in dreams, that this was a someone looking at me. It felt ancient as the Universe, and it was terrifying in its alien character, but it was immensely comforting. The light seemed to exude kindness and comfort. I realised that my heart was not beating fast any more. I opened my eyes and looked round. The face was disintegrated, but its luminescent particles realigned themselves with the physical images around me. Every glowing leaf, every shimmering board, every kaleidoscopic star, was flowing downward and outward like a river. As they reached the edges of my vision, they bloomed and expanded, as though escaping the bounds of normal reality. There was a street-light up a small hill behind us, and its light caught on one of my friends' faces standing a few feet from me. He too was part of the inexorably expanding rivers of colour. I began to laugh, my eyes and mouth wide. It seemed that I could see my own face laughing, see my body sitting there on the deck; at the same time, I could see through my eyes the expansion of the world around me, opening like a crystalline flower into space.
I realised something at this point. I do not know that I can say in words what it was, for I had long since lost my connection with language. The idea came to me in a flurry of colour and a refreshing mental breeze. I was part of this immense, expanding, boundless infinitude that we call the Universe. It was as if my bliss were contained simply within the acceptance and appreciation of the endlessness and immenseness of existence. I laughed several more times at the sheer beauty of the scene. At some point, I realised that I could speak again if I tried, and some time after this I returned to the time-stream. I had no idea how long I had been in this DMT-state. It did not seem like an eternity or a minute, for I had lost contact with time at all.
My friends told me they were leaving due to the mosquitoes, and I arose and followed them back to the lot where our car was parked. It occurred to me that I had only taken one successful hit, so I asked them to wait around in the car while I emptied the bowl. The second hit was not so dramatic as the first, but the sense of euphoria returned, and I felt the realisation that I was merely a part of the slow, ponderous life of the endless universe return. The clouds began rearranging themselves in the purple sky, and beneath my eyelids the patterns came to life again, moving like minute conveyor-belts into the centre of my vision, where they seemed to sink below the main pattern into a second level hidden from my sight.
Being stoned as they were, my friends decided to get something to eat. I felt wide awake now and amazingly refreshed. As we sat down, I realised I was finished, and asked how long it had been. 'About 15 minutes', they told me. For the rest of the evening, I felt renewed, rekindled, and intensely and fiercely alive. I remarked many times that I could not have done more my first time comfortably, but that I was left thirsty to go in deeper, immensely curious about the depths of the world I had only glimpsed.
Thanks for reading, all! It's so nice to have finally experienced what I joined this forum to report. (Also, for anyone debating about the GVG: Yes, it really is that good.)
As I held in the first hit, I became extremely nervous, which in itself startled me: I have never been nervous heading into a psychedelic experience. Maybe DMT would be different. The first hit did almost nothing but get me stoned. I saw some red and green trails in the sky, but nothing dramatic happened after a minute. I realised that I was a little too nervous. I got off the bench and sat lotus-style on the floor of the dock itself, breathing deeply, trying to calm myself. I really noticed the crickets and other nocturnal insects now. Their noise was truly rather loud. When my heart-rate had fallen sufficiently, I clicked my lighter again and took a long pull. The taste of the DMT was noticeable this time. I recall talk of burnt plastic when smoked, but in the GVG, it's nearly fragrant: a kind of sweet taste. I couldn't taste marijuana this time, so I knew I'd got what I'd come for. This hit I held in for a good 15 seconds too, until my lungs wouldn't let me hold it in.
Before I'd even blown out the vapour, my world began to shift. The first change was the sound of the insects, which grew louder and louder, until it took over my ears. But it now no longer sounded like insects: it was, rather, one long, thundering, reverberating echo in my brain. The sound was so overpowering that I immediately became synaesthetic. The visuals, which by now were just as prominent as the sound, began to shift and change with every fluctuation in pitch. The leaves were taking on wild, angular shapes, and the spaces of sky between them formed immensely complex patterns and images. The Moon was like a silver globe with blue, green, and red edges, sparkling and wavering beyond the trees.
At this point, I felt the fear return. It had only been a few seconds! Where was this about to take me? My heart has not beat so hard in a long time. I began breathing deeply again, trying to calm myself. The colours were intense and began to change more rapidly as I breathed. I felt as though I may need to scream. How else would I know I was still here? But the DMT did not seem sympathetic. I drifted farther and farther from normal reality. I could no longer think to myself in words, no longer form concepts in my mind's eye. The sound and colour and my heartbeat seemed to be the same thing: all unceasingly intensifying. My eyes were closed now: I was too frightened of what would become of the outside world. A particular pattern now emerged in the fluctuating lights. Far too intricate to ever recreate, but wonderful in its intricacy. It radiated outward from the centre, yellow and gold, and at the very edges of my vision cooled to a deep blue. The radiation of these colours continued for some time, increasing in speed as I watched, until they were so fast that the image seemed static.
It was a face. It did not then, and it does not now in memory, look like a face. But I knew, as one does in dreams, that this was a someone looking at me. It felt ancient as the Universe, and it was terrifying in its alien character, but it was immensely comforting. The light seemed to exude kindness and comfort. I realised that my heart was not beating fast any more. I opened my eyes and looked round. The face was disintegrated, but its luminescent particles realigned themselves with the physical images around me. Every glowing leaf, every shimmering board, every kaleidoscopic star, was flowing downward and outward like a river. As they reached the edges of my vision, they bloomed and expanded, as though escaping the bounds of normal reality. There was a street-light up a small hill behind us, and its light caught on one of my friends' faces standing a few feet from me. He too was part of the inexorably expanding rivers of colour. I began to laugh, my eyes and mouth wide. It seemed that I could see my own face laughing, see my body sitting there on the deck; at the same time, I could see through my eyes the expansion of the world around me, opening like a crystalline flower into space.
I realised something at this point. I do not know that I can say in words what it was, for I had long since lost my connection with language. The idea came to me in a flurry of colour and a refreshing mental breeze. I was part of this immense, expanding, boundless infinitude that we call the Universe. It was as if my bliss were contained simply within the acceptance and appreciation of the endlessness and immenseness of existence. I laughed several more times at the sheer beauty of the scene. At some point, I realised that I could speak again if I tried, and some time after this I returned to the time-stream. I had no idea how long I had been in this DMT-state. It did not seem like an eternity or a minute, for I had lost contact with time at all.
My friends told me they were leaving due to the mosquitoes, and I arose and followed them back to the lot where our car was parked. It occurred to me that I had only taken one successful hit, so I asked them to wait around in the car while I emptied the bowl. The second hit was not so dramatic as the first, but the sense of euphoria returned, and I felt the realisation that I was merely a part of the slow, ponderous life of the endless universe return. The clouds began rearranging themselves in the purple sky, and beneath my eyelids the patterns came to life again, moving like minute conveyor-belts into the centre of my vision, where they seemed to sink below the main pattern into a second level hidden from my sight.
Being stoned as they were, my friends decided to get something to eat. I felt wide awake now and amazingly refreshed. As we sat down, I realised I was finished, and asked how long it had been. 'About 15 minutes', they told me. For the rest of the evening, I felt renewed, rekindled, and intensely and fiercely alive. I remarked many times that I could not have done more my first time comfortably, but that I was left thirsty to go in deeper, immensely curious about the depths of the world I had only glimpsed.
Thanks for reading, all! It's so nice to have finally experienced what I joined this forum to report. (Also, for anyone debating about the GVG: Yes, it really is that good.)
really THANKS for sharing this
