ChristianMeteor
Rising Star
The post below makes good points, so I will simply share my a piece of my trip report: This is from my book, the Patterns of Existence
I opened the door and
stepped into a thick warmth that caused a heavy sensation to grow through my body. Slater
followed close behind, remarking on how the effects had begun to set in. I shut the door behind
us, and looked all around the living room expecting some kind of visual effect to have begun.
Nothing appeared out of the ordinary besides the fact that the room seemed ever so slightly
larger. Maybe even a little foreign; like my first day in the sixth grade classroom.
Slater sauntered over to the couch, and relaxed back into the soft brown leather cushion.
He had an aura of teenage carelessness and calm, and I felt at ease around him. I was not at all
concerned about what he was thinking of me, or any unspoken emotions or desires. He wore his
state of mind unfiltered, and I trusted him to be a good trip sitter. I knew some kind of effect was
starting, so I found the desk chair I had sat in earlier, and rested back into it. This caused the
sensation of blood and lucidity to dribble towards the back of my brain, leaving the front feeling
light and floaty. This euphoric feeling seemed to linger and grow slowly.
I was happy that I was in it. Mushrooms felt good, and though I knew I had just started
the come-up, I sensed deeper things would be revealed in time. I tried to remain as conscious as
possible of what was happening so that I could recall it. I was convicted that this trip held
something very special for me, and that I would need to reflect on it and use it for some kind of
greater development. This was directly a result of expectation, and ended up having the inverse
effect of what I intended. Instead of full immersion in the present moment, I was preoccupied
with what would come next and the peak.
My thought stream was broken by Slater inquiring about my experience. I took a moment
to respond and said “I really like mushrooms.”
“Hell yeah dude, Brady got some really good ones. I’m gonna hit him up and see if I can
get more.”
Even more mushrooms; glorious! I did not know of anyone else who had them available
for sale, and with the positivity of this experience so far, I was ecstatic that more could be on the
way. Drug deals were sketchy, but I was out of the way of harm with Slater assuming
responsibility. He was the one getting in the car, trading the cash and walking out with the
contraband. I got to reap the rewards which seemed selfish at times, but my involvement did not
change what Slater was going to do. I did not judge his insatiable desire for psychoactives, and
though I voiced my concerns, he relentlessly pursued a path of intoxication. My company and
home were safe and a source of support for Slater in a time of difficulty, but this was only
subliminal. We were just friends having fun, finding our way.
Not long after I had sat down, the visual effects began to manifest. I first noticed that the entire
living room had a pink hue to it, almost like neon gas was seeping out from the walls. Then, I
observed the soft yellow lighting from the lamp on the desk create an ambient gradient of
shading that stretched down the walls. This paired with the velvety darkness of the night pouring
in through the windows formed patches of contrast and shadow that seemed to amplify the
surfaces they rested on. This was far more mild than what I had expected, but novel nonetheless.
I noticed the curtains draped across the front window, and unique patterns across them.
They had rows of softball sized mandalas, and the longer I stared at them, the more I began to
notice movement. I thought that the curtain was swaying slightly from the air being blown out of
the register, but noticed the shapes turn in a clockwise manner. I could not decide on why this
curtain was behaving the way it was, even though I knew I was experiencing some level of visual
alteration. As the pink mist appeared to stain the curtain, my curiosity got the best of me, and I
had to know if it was truly moving.
Eyes locked on the anomalee, I got up out of the desk chair and walked over to the
curtain.
“What’s up?” Slater asked. “Do you see someone outside?”
“This curtain looks like it’s moving dude.”
I took a bit of the fabric in my hand, rubbing it between my fingers. The texture felt like
a grid, and I inspected it more closely to find that there was no movement. I half expected to see
a tiny colony of creatures living on it, being the cause of the mystery, but it was simply a curtain.
Slightly disappointed, I walked over to my chair, and noticed Slater watch me the entire way.
“You’re starting to trip now aren’t you?” Slater laughed.
“No man, it was really moving! Look at it.”
The two of us stared back at the curtain, and watched as a draft caused a slight sway to
vibrate through it.”
“Oh yeah, I can see where that would trip you out dude.”
“It’s weird man, the circles on it also look like their kind of moving too, independent of
the sway. They almost look like clocks.”
“Really? That’s sweet.”
I moved my attention from the curtain and noticed that the rotating circles had moved
from it and were now overlayed across my entire vision.
“Woah, I see a bunch of spirals now!”
“What!” Slater snickered.
Translucent circular vortexes patterned in a grid across my sight, similar to the visual
effect after staring at a light for too long. I soaked in this moment, thoroughly enjoying it, until I
decided to close my eyes and see if it would follow. Immediate blackness was followed by the
slow emergence of one large spinning vortex of black and white. I was reminded of the time I
stared at an optical illusion video with a very similar kind of object; a black and white swirling
whirlwind.
I opened the door and
stepped into a thick warmth that caused a heavy sensation to grow through my body. Slater
followed close behind, remarking on how the effects had begun to set in. I shut the door behind
us, and looked all around the living room expecting some kind of visual effect to have begun.
Nothing appeared out of the ordinary besides the fact that the room seemed ever so slightly
larger. Maybe even a little foreign; like my first day in the sixth grade classroom.
Slater sauntered over to the couch, and relaxed back into the soft brown leather cushion.
He had an aura of teenage carelessness and calm, and I felt at ease around him. I was not at all
concerned about what he was thinking of me, or any unspoken emotions or desires. He wore his
state of mind unfiltered, and I trusted him to be a good trip sitter. I knew some kind of effect was
starting, so I found the desk chair I had sat in earlier, and rested back into it. This caused the
sensation of blood and lucidity to dribble towards the back of my brain, leaving the front feeling
light and floaty. This euphoric feeling seemed to linger and grow slowly.
I was happy that I was in it. Mushrooms felt good, and though I knew I had just started
the come-up, I sensed deeper things would be revealed in time. I tried to remain as conscious as
possible of what was happening so that I could recall it. I was convicted that this trip held
something very special for me, and that I would need to reflect on it and use it for some kind of
greater development. This was directly a result of expectation, and ended up having the inverse
effect of what I intended. Instead of full immersion in the present moment, I was preoccupied
with what would come next and the peak.
My thought stream was broken by Slater inquiring about my experience. I took a moment
to respond and said “I really like mushrooms.”
“Hell yeah dude, Brady got some really good ones. I’m gonna hit him up and see if I can
get more.”
Even more mushrooms; glorious! I did not know of anyone else who had them available
for sale, and with the positivity of this experience so far, I was ecstatic that more could be on the
way. Drug deals were sketchy, but I was out of the way of harm with Slater assuming
responsibility. He was the one getting in the car, trading the cash and walking out with the
contraband. I got to reap the rewards which seemed selfish at times, but my involvement did not
change what Slater was going to do. I did not judge his insatiable desire for psychoactives, and
though I voiced my concerns, he relentlessly pursued a path of intoxication. My company and
home were safe and a source of support for Slater in a time of difficulty, but this was only
subliminal. We were just friends having fun, finding our way.
Not long after I had sat down, the visual effects began to manifest. I first noticed that the entire
living room had a pink hue to it, almost like neon gas was seeping out from the walls. Then, I
observed the soft yellow lighting from the lamp on the desk create an ambient gradient of
shading that stretched down the walls. This paired with the velvety darkness of the night pouring
in through the windows formed patches of contrast and shadow that seemed to amplify the
surfaces they rested on. This was far more mild than what I had expected, but novel nonetheless.
I noticed the curtains draped across the front window, and unique patterns across them.
They had rows of softball sized mandalas, and the longer I stared at them, the more I began to
notice movement. I thought that the curtain was swaying slightly from the air being blown out of
the register, but noticed the shapes turn in a clockwise manner. I could not decide on why this
curtain was behaving the way it was, even though I knew I was experiencing some level of visual
alteration. As the pink mist appeared to stain the curtain, my curiosity got the best of me, and I
had to know if it was truly moving.
Eyes locked on the anomalee, I got up out of the desk chair and walked over to the
curtain.
“What’s up?” Slater asked. “Do you see someone outside?”
“This curtain looks like it’s moving dude.”
I took a bit of the fabric in my hand, rubbing it between my fingers. The texture felt like
a grid, and I inspected it more closely to find that there was no movement. I half expected to see
a tiny colony of creatures living on it, being the cause of the mystery, but it was simply a curtain.
Slightly disappointed, I walked over to my chair, and noticed Slater watch me the entire way.
“You’re starting to trip now aren’t you?” Slater laughed.
“No man, it was really moving! Look at it.”
The two of us stared back at the curtain, and watched as a draft caused a slight sway to
vibrate through it.”
“Oh yeah, I can see where that would trip you out dude.”
“It’s weird man, the circles on it also look like their kind of moving too, independent of
the sway. They almost look like clocks.”
“Really? That’s sweet.”
I moved my attention from the curtain and noticed that the rotating circles had moved
from it and were now overlayed across my entire vision.
“Woah, I see a bunch of spirals now!”
“What!” Slater snickered.
Translucent circular vortexes patterned in a grid across my sight, similar to the visual
effect after staring at a light for too long. I soaked in this moment, thoroughly enjoying it, until I
decided to close my eyes and see if it would follow. Immediate blackness was followed by the
slow emergence of one large spinning vortex of black and white. I was reminded of the time I
stared at an optical illusion video with a very similar kind of object; a black and white swirling
whirlwind.
