Neuronaut
Rising Star
Hi guys, I was directed to your community by a friend who introduced me to spice and was there for my first two journeys with this wonderful medicine.
In college I had experimented with peyote and LSA, and truly enjoyed the experiences. My friend that I explored with had a less enjoyable time, but I think he was trying too hard to control the experience, rather than letting go and seeing where it took him.
We agreed to keep trying, looking, and expanding, but our majors kicked into high gear and we were never able to return to with the fervor and inherent joy one finds in the new, again.
Fast forward past college, I moved to a new city, thousands of miles from my old life, was an intern, the economy imploded in on itself, unemployment, temp work, unemployment, a regular job I hated, and then now a job I like quite a bit, where I met the man who would introduce me to what could quite possibly be the universe itself, Antrocles.
I am incredibly grateful to Antrocles for not only putting me on this path, but for taking me into his trust, his home, everything.
Dude, there are no words.
I won’t get into the specifics of what I did or how. It was all explained to me, but between nervous excitement, the technical jargon, and the sheer deluge of information, I was overwhelmed.
I took several long pulls encouraged by Antrocles to keep digging deeper and create lung space out of nothing, and as I laid back, I was worried that maybe I didn’t take enough.
I exhaled and left my body.
It wasn’t a breakthrough, but maybe a preview. It almost felt like the spice was feeling me out, racing along neural pathways, marking trails to visit later, and sort of washing over me in a broad way. It started out black, and I saw shapes, organic, moving, and ever-changing. These things were growing into new beings before my eyes. It was as if I started on the cellular level and was advancing up into bigger and more complex places.
As the scope of what I was seeing grew, everything became blue, like I was swimming through a shallow tropical sea. I passed creatures, and canyons, and mountains until I came to an iceberg.
I have a background in the martial arts and one of my teachers always told us to find an anchor or focal point before sparring to let your mind calm down and reset. A totem, I guess. My friends chose wild animals or fire, things of that nature, but I eventually decided on an iceberg in the ocean. All aspects of the iceberg, calm, serene, unmoving, and, due to a tendency to sweat quite a bit when nervous, the cooling nature appealed to me as well.
Wrapped in blue, I raced at the glacier, and drew back like a wave, and I realized, or maybe I was shown, that I was never actually the iceberg, I was the ocean, and the iceberg was something else.
Then I came out of it.
I waited as Antrocles and Impossible Machine had their experiences before I was asked to if I’d like to go again.
Well, obviously.
I was really cold after I came back, and decided to bundle up, pulling my hood down over my eyes as I laid back and exhaled.
I found myself in the jungle.
Everything was green and warm and alive. The ground, the sky, all the plants seemed to throb with their own heartbeat. Things continued to change again, as plants grew in different shapes and patterns, the tree trunks would sometimes become long, graceful dragons and take to the sky.
Then the organics shapes stiffened, forced themselves into straight lines and right angles. The green dimmed down to black and purple and I was in a city at night. It was dark and moody, the only light coming from the parts of it that were purple. I was alone in a city that went on forever. It looked like I always imagined the Sprawl to look like from William Gibson novels, Blade Runner, or even Samurai Jack.
It changed again, back to the jungle where things continued to change around me. I saw a beautiful girl and went to approach her. She waved me off, not in an unfriendly way, more of a “not just yet” way. She left and I saw a samurai made of leaves. As we walked toward each other the leaves hardened into scales. The scales turned into metal armor, his shape turned into a dragon, and the dragon flew into the ground becoming a tree as I approached it. The tree turned into a tank’s cannon and I was back in the city.
I went back and forth between the jungle and the city until I came out of it. I never saw the girl or the samurai again.
Like I said earlier, it felt like more of a preview. My conscious mind with its analysis, judgment, ego, and questions was there, but not in control. I observed; I asked questions; I tried to soak up as much as possible but always apart. Impossible Machine offered, “Spice gets a feel for you as much as you slowly get a feel for it.”
I came back, feeling smaller but more connected. I’m trying to purge myself of the desire to breakthrough as soon as possible. Reduced to that, it makes it feel like some prize to attain, a material position to gain, and this experience is far too profound for that. I’m trying not to diminish it. It’s too big, too grand, and I will never be able to describe it adequately, and it will happen when it’s meant to happen.
I’m a huge comic book nerd, and to quote one of my favorites that talked about using chi and drawing energy into yourself, “it’s not a river that flows into you. You are a river that flows into it. And it is an ocean.”
As I post this, I’m getting ready to go on yet another journey to see what I need to be shown next, and I am truly excited for it.
Trip report to follow.
In college I had experimented with peyote and LSA, and truly enjoyed the experiences. My friend that I explored with had a less enjoyable time, but I think he was trying too hard to control the experience, rather than letting go and seeing where it took him.
We agreed to keep trying, looking, and expanding, but our majors kicked into high gear and we were never able to return to with the fervor and inherent joy one finds in the new, again.
Fast forward past college, I moved to a new city, thousands of miles from my old life, was an intern, the economy imploded in on itself, unemployment, temp work, unemployment, a regular job I hated, and then now a job I like quite a bit, where I met the man who would introduce me to what could quite possibly be the universe itself, Antrocles.
I am incredibly grateful to Antrocles for not only putting me on this path, but for taking me into his trust, his home, everything.
Dude, there are no words.
I won’t get into the specifics of what I did or how. It was all explained to me, but between nervous excitement, the technical jargon, and the sheer deluge of information, I was overwhelmed.
I took several long pulls encouraged by Antrocles to keep digging deeper and create lung space out of nothing, and as I laid back, I was worried that maybe I didn’t take enough.
I exhaled and left my body.
It wasn’t a breakthrough, but maybe a preview. It almost felt like the spice was feeling me out, racing along neural pathways, marking trails to visit later, and sort of washing over me in a broad way. It started out black, and I saw shapes, organic, moving, and ever-changing. These things were growing into new beings before my eyes. It was as if I started on the cellular level and was advancing up into bigger and more complex places.
As the scope of what I was seeing grew, everything became blue, like I was swimming through a shallow tropical sea. I passed creatures, and canyons, and mountains until I came to an iceberg.
I have a background in the martial arts and one of my teachers always told us to find an anchor or focal point before sparring to let your mind calm down and reset. A totem, I guess. My friends chose wild animals or fire, things of that nature, but I eventually decided on an iceberg in the ocean. All aspects of the iceberg, calm, serene, unmoving, and, due to a tendency to sweat quite a bit when nervous, the cooling nature appealed to me as well.
Wrapped in blue, I raced at the glacier, and drew back like a wave, and I realized, or maybe I was shown, that I was never actually the iceberg, I was the ocean, and the iceberg was something else.
Then I came out of it.
I waited as Antrocles and Impossible Machine had their experiences before I was asked to if I’d like to go again.
Well, obviously.
I was really cold after I came back, and decided to bundle up, pulling my hood down over my eyes as I laid back and exhaled.
I found myself in the jungle.
Everything was green and warm and alive. The ground, the sky, all the plants seemed to throb with their own heartbeat. Things continued to change again, as plants grew in different shapes and patterns, the tree trunks would sometimes become long, graceful dragons and take to the sky.
Then the organics shapes stiffened, forced themselves into straight lines and right angles. The green dimmed down to black and purple and I was in a city at night. It was dark and moody, the only light coming from the parts of it that were purple. I was alone in a city that went on forever. It looked like I always imagined the Sprawl to look like from William Gibson novels, Blade Runner, or even Samurai Jack.
It changed again, back to the jungle where things continued to change around me. I saw a beautiful girl and went to approach her. She waved me off, not in an unfriendly way, more of a “not just yet” way. She left and I saw a samurai made of leaves. As we walked toward each other the leaves hardened into scales. The scales turned into metal armor, his shape turned into a dragon, and the dragon flew into the ground becoming a tree as I approached it. The tree turned into a tank’s cannon and I was back in the city.
I went back and forth between the jungle and the city until I came out of it. I never saw the girl or the samurai again.
Like I said earlier, it felt like more of a preview. My conscious mind with its analysis, judgment, ego, and questions was there, but not in control. I observed; I asked questions; I tried to soak up as much as possible but always apart. Impossible Machine offered, “Spice gets a feel for you as much as you slowly get a feel for it.”
I came back, feeling smaller but more connected. I’m trying to purge myself of the desire to breakthrough as soon as possible. Reduced to that, it makes it feel like some prize to attain, a material position to gain, and this experience is far too profound for that. I’m trying not to diminish it. It’s too big, too grand, and I will never be able to describe it adequately, and it will happen when it’s meant to happen.
I’m a huge comic book nerd, and to quote one of my favorites that talked about using chi and drawing energy into yourself, “it’s not a river that flows into you. You are a river that flows into it. And it is an ocean.”
As I post this, I’m getting ready to go on yet another journey to see what I need to be shown next, and I am truly excited for it.
Trip report to follow.
