Double Dragons
N,N-DMT, homemade Batch 1Second run
This was the second run with the new material, and by now it was clear that we were working with something entirely different.
We prepared a stronger cart: one gram of DMT dissolved into 0.5 milliliters of propylene glycol. While waiting for the wick to properly imbibe, we sat and talked.
During that conversation, M casually mentioned that during his last trip he had seen oriental dragons.
I stopped.
I realized that I had seen them too.
Not vividly enough at the time to name them, not clearly enough to claim them as imagery—but unmistakably the same signature. Independent recall, converging after the fact. We laughed at the coincidence, then named the batch on the spot:
Double Dragons.
We loaded the cart into the Uni, set it to 4.2 volts, and began.
The first hit was clean and deliberate: a verified fifteen seconds. The second followed, longer, but unmeasured. This batch did not rush. It arrived the way the previous night’s handshake and trip had promised—like a warm, comfortable blanket settling over the nervous system, not a rocket igniting beneath it.
The power was immediately apparent.
A field of crystalline flecks appeared, suspended in space. Each crystal intensified, gained color, then exploded outward into kaleidoscopic cascades—reds, purples, greens, blues, colors stacked on colors, textures folded into textures. The entire visual field churned and recomposed itself continuously, not chaotically, but exuberantly.
This was the deepest visual experience of my life.
There was very little cardiac acceleration. The transition felt natural now, almost routine. Whatever fear had once accompanied the onset was gone, replaced by a kind of practiced ease. M described the batch as DMT-HD, and the description fit perfectly. Compared to the purchased material, this was not a marginal improvement. It was a different resolution altogether. Where the older batches offered fractals, this offered entire universes of color and surface detail.
The soundtrack was Tassili Players — A Wonderful World of Weed and Dub. It sat under the visuals without scaffolding them. This was not absorption. This was spectacle, but spectacle of extraordinary clarity.
At some point, something unexpected happened.
As the visual field continued to morph, I realized I could blink—not with my physical eyes, which were closed, but with my attention. A deliberate mental blink. When I did, the entire visual field froze, like a camera shutter snapping a photograph. The image held perfectly still for an instant, then resumed its self-transforming motion.
I repeated this several times. Blink. Freeze. Release.
It felt less like control and more like discovering a feature that had always been there.
There were no entities during the main phase of the trip. No instruction. No communication. Just color, texture, motion—an ecstatic overload of visual bandwidth.
Later, after the session had ended and the dust had settled, I remembered something I hadn’t registered at first.
There had been an entity.
A female presence. Bluish in tone. Sensual, angular, moving in time with the music. Her gestures were precise and expressive—pointed fingers, held poses—suggestive of classical Indian dance, with a faintly Thai aesthetic layered in. She did not speak. She did not intrude. She danced, briefly, and was gone.
No dragons this time. Just the echo of the name.
Technically, the batch had been extracted using Ronsonol fuel. The next batch would be done with laboratory-grade naphtha, out of curiosity more than necessity. From 100 grams of Mimosa hostilis root bark, the first pull yielded pure white material. The second and third pulls, slightly more orange. The latter pulls were water-washed. No recrystallization seemed necessary. Purity was more than sufficient for vaporization.
The conclusion was unavoidable.
This material was not just effective.
It was alive.
The Professor
Symbol Suppression and Aesthetic OverflowNoteworthy here is the absence of symbolic content. No mythic narrative, no archetypal drama. Circuit V–VI imagery gives way to raw Circuit VII aesthetic play.
This is consciousness enjoying its own processing power.
The late-appearing dancer fits the pattern of non-instructional entities—forms that arise as expressions of rhythm and embodiment rather than teachers or gatekeepers.
“High-Resolution Zones”
Some regions do not offer insight, answers, or transformation.
They offer clarity.
Travelers are advised not to ask what such zones mean. They do not mean anything. They are simply showing you what the equipment can do when properly calibrated.
Photography is discouraged. Mental screenshots may occur anyway.
REPORT ENDS.
