Greetings Nexites
My first interaction with dmt came when I read of how the Grateful Dead acquired their name; apparently they had found out that another band was already using the Warlocks name, and so while they were sitting around smoking dmt flipping through a dictionary, they came across the term and it just stood out to them. I had heard of dmt described as "the businessman's trip" and even as I was working at a college newspaper (coincidentally named "The Nexus"), one of my very close friends described his experiences with it and highly recommended it. Another friend huffed his first bowl of changa in a hotel room when we were partying through a weekend run of psychedelic music. and yet, with all this opportunity, the notion never really rooted into my brain. It was almost as when Hunter S. Thompson described that "you don't find acid, it finds you when it thinks you're ready", that if it was meant to be, when the time was right, all would be revealed.
I had smoked cannabis throughout high school, predictably weak stuff with mild effects, but my first real "psychedelic" experience took the form of a week-long religious retreat in high school, where the students were psychologically broken down and rebuilt by workshops and discussion to reveal a purer sense of self in an attempt to promote social responsibility. Subsequently my first chemical enhancement was through psilocybin mushrooms in college, and I was immediately compelled not only by the similarity of the "reality" of the psychedelic situation to the more rigorous events of the retreat, but by the accessibility afforded with chemicals. I was thereby encouraged to explore my inner space by altering my brain chemistry with a diverse array of tools, with a presumption of arriving at a sense of purpose or meaning in life, which has ultimately led to my attempt to learn how to, as Frank Zappa had said "be digging it while it's happening, cause it just might be a one-shot deal", to enjoy this thing, this deoxyribonucleic acid trip that is life, and be comfortable in the satisfaction that no matter how or why, it exists and therein lies a logical singularity upon which to make my own foundation, the tinest grain of sand to create a pearl of my own.
I saw reality as a "this is only a test"; not to be taken as seriously as if it were "the real thing", but also, you would want to give your best effort anyway and perform to your greatest ability. In that regard, I saw psychedelics and other mind-altering substances such as the internet and literature to be "cheat codes" for life, designed to help me hack my way through alternate realities in order to get some useful perspective. At first, given my enthusiasm, i did all i could; after a while though, I was a bit exhausted and demotivated, and actually quit altogether for a few years. Then one morning I awoke into a fantastic lucid dream of cosmic armageddon, a vision of powers that were beyond my influence. Later that morning I found that it was at the exact same time that the Columbia shuttle burned up on re-entry. I took confidence in the courage of the intrepid astronauts, and was renewed in my belief that it was really not up to me to control the whole universe, that I was not crucial to the integrity of the structure and that it was perfectly fine to continue my psychonaut research, with only the caveat of self-preservation, that I would need to take a more sustainable, mature approach with my efforts. Whereas previously i had appeared almost completely uninterested in the details of how it all works, somehow now i was able to see that I had been unknowingly following an obvious path. I understood that no matter how difficult the path had felt at any given time, from a broader perspective it could be shown that I was still faithful to the central theme.
The first part of that approach was to become educated about the journey. To research with whatever literature could help to illuminate the path I had been following; studying how the anthropological and the oneirological fuses into the ontological, and what each of the related sciences can contribute in that regard. The second part of that process was to experience this journey. After all, there is only so much that can be said about that for which there are no words. and of course there are no distinct "parts" - for me its all one process, the process of reorientation; discarding the ideas that are not helpful, relearning the useful things that can't be taught, and sharing with others where I am in the process, like a broadcast beacon on the cosmic ocean. and hopefully learning from others who are on the same path.
I'd like to narrow my narrative for a moment, to describe what I can of one specific iteration of this journey, that being - appropriately - my first experiment with dmt. I had done an A/B on MHRB, evap'd the pet. ether to find only a very small amount of off-white powder, which I discarded as I was unable to distinguish this from any possible contaminant. I repeated my efforts with a STB with freeze precip, and got a healthy pile from only a couple of pulls. My scale was on the fritz so i attempted a couple of shots, starting small, making a pile on top of a bowl of cannabis in a bubbler, moving to larger piles, never traveling anywhere. Finally I took half of what was left and piled it on the bowl and put it aside. A friend came into town some days later, and upon hearing that it was available, immediately said "let's do this". I coached him through the first bowl, encouraging him to take that third toke. He described effects that were certainly past placebo, but sub-breakthrough, and very short in duration. We went out to a concert that night, and when I came back I was exhilarated and not at all nervous. It appeared that the timing was right. I put the other half of the pile and attempted to melt the powder. The bubbler had a smaller capacity than I had planned for, and although the smoke was not noxious, in my haste to get to three tokes, I had forgotten to try to hold the other tokes in. The effects came with the second toke, and as I tried to get a third toke I realized how strange it was to be breathing, and that I had better set the chalice down right away before holding it got strange. I had a hint of the feeling of "uh-oh look what you did now, kid". The air became thick with what i can only describe as "information"; it appeared that with each breath, each of these points of data became one of those pinwheel whistles sold in vending machines, pulsing with all manner of colors and sounds derived from points beyond the spectrum available to the unenhanced mind. Several opaque objects became mirrors, windows into other dimensions. I was reminded of high-dose psilocybin experiences in which the visual stereoscopic depth perception was superceded by what appeared to be a triangular, prismatic perception, a third layer falling over my eyes. My sense of time dissolved as I entered the familiar eternal moment. For whatever reason I was unable to make eye contact, as if making eye contact would be too profound and profane and hilarious to tolerate. My sense of time came back after about ten minutes, and then the entire effect evaporated by fifteen minutes in, leaving my mind to take its victory laps for another half hour or so.
Haven't done it since, but I won't say I wouldn't. After all, there are so many cheat codes, and only so much time left. Currently I am interested to learn of a similarly short-acting and powerful phenethylamine. I have heard good things about 5-Meo-DALT, but very few things. Of course I am eager to participate in discussions of all types. Humans and cyberhumans are such social creatures!
In short I just want to say that I am very happy to be here, and very happy that you are here as well. Good luck to all!
My first interaction with dmt came when I read of how the Grateful Dead acquired their name; apparently they had found out that another band was already using the Warlocks name, and so while they were sitting around smoking dmt flipping through a dictionary, they came across the term and it just stood out to them. I had heard of dmt described as "the businessman's trip" and even as I was working at a college newspaper (coincidentally named "The Nexus"), one of my very close friends described his experiences with it and highly recommended it. Another friend huffed his first bowl of changa in a hotel room when we were partying through a weekend run of psychedelic music. and yet, with all this opportunity, the notion never really rooted into my brain. It was almost as when Hunter S. Thompson described that "you don't find acid, it finds you when it thinks you're ready", that if it was meant to be, when the time was right, all would be revealed.
I had smoked cannabis throughout high school, predictably weak stuff with mild effects, but my first real "psychedelic" experience took the form of a week-long religious retreat in high school, where the students were psychologically broken down and rebuilt by workshops and discussion to reveal a purer sense of self in an attempt to promote social responsibility. Subsequently my first chemical enhancement was through psilocybin mushrooms in college, and I was immediately compelled not only by the similarity of the "reality" of the psychedelic situation to the more rigorous events of the retreat, but by the accessibility afforded with chemicals. I was thereby encouraged to explore my inner space by altering my brain chemistry with a diverse array of tools, with a presumption of arriving at a sense of purpose or meaning in life, which has ultimately led to my attempt to learn how to, as Frank Zappa had said "be digging it while it's happening, cause it just might be a one-shot deal", to enjoy this thing, this deoxyribonucleic acid trip that is life, and be comfortable in the satisfaction that no matter how or why, it exists and therein lies a logical singularity upon which to make my own foundation, the tinest grain of sand to create a pearl of my own.
I saw reality as a "this is only a test"; not to be taken as seriously as if it were "the real thing", but also, you would want to give your best effort anyway and perform to your greatest ability. In that regard, I saw psychedelics and other mind-altering substances such as the internet and literature to be "cheat codes" for life, designed to help me hack my way through alternate realities in order to get some useful perspective. At first, given my enthusiasm, i did all i could; after a while though, I was a bit exhausted and demotivated, and actually quit altogether for a few years. Then one morning I awoke into a fantastic lucid dream of cosmic armageddon, a vision of powers that were beyond my influence. Later that morning I found that it was at the exact same time that the Columbia shuttle burned up on re-entry. I took confidence in the courage of the intrepid astronauts, and was renewed in my belief that it was really not up to me to control the whole universe, that I was not crucial to the integrity of the structure and that it was perfectly fine to continue my psychonaut research, with only the caveat of self-preservation, that I would need to take a more sustainable, mature approach with my efforts. Whereas previously i had appeared almost completely uninterested in the details of how it all works, somehow now i was able to see that I had been unknowingly following an obvious path. I understood that no matter how difficult the path had felt at any given time, from a broader perspective it could be shown that I was still faithful to the central theme.
The first part of that approach was to become educated about the journey. To research with whatever literature could help to illuminate the path I had been following; studying how the anthropological and the oneirological fuses into the ontological, and what each of the related sciences can contribute in that regard. The second part of that process was to experience this journey. After all, there is only so much that can be said about that for which there are no words. and of course there are no distinct "parts" - for me its all one process, the process of reorientation; discarding the ideas that are not helpful, relearning the useful things that can't be taught, and sharing with others where I am in the process, like a broadcast beacon on the cosmic ocean. and hopefully learning from others who are on the same path.
I'd like to narrow my narrative for a moment, to describe what I can of one specific iteration of this journey, that being - appropriately - my first experiment with dmt. I had done an A/B on MHRB, evap'd the pet. ether to find only a very small amount of off-white powder, which I discarded as I was unable to distinguish this from any possible contaminant. I repeated my efforts with a STB with freeze precip, and got a healthy pile from only a couple of pulls. My scale was on the fritz so i attempted a couple of shots, starting small, making a pile on top of a bowl of cannabis in a bubbler, moving to larger piles, never traveling anywhere. Finally I took half of what was left and piled it on the bowl and put it aside. A friend came into town some days later, and upon hearing that it was available, immediately said "let's do this". I coached him through the first bowl, encouraging him to take that third toke. He described effects that were certainly past placebo, but sub-breakthrough, and very short in duration. We went out to a concert that night, and when I came back I was exhilarated and not at all nervous. It appeared that the timing was right. I put the other half of the pile and attempted to melt the powder. The bubbler had a smaller capacity than I had planned for, and although the smoke was not noxious, in my haste to get to three tokes, I had forgotten to try to hold the other tokes in. The effects came with the second toke, and as I tried to get a third toke I realized how strange it was to be breathing, and that I had better set the chalice down right away before holding it got strange. I had a hint of the feeling of "uh-oh look what you did now, kid". The air became thick with what i can only describe as "information"; it appeared that with each breath, each of these points of data became one of those pinwheel whistles sold in vending machines, pulsing with all manner of colors and sounds derived from points beyond the spectrum available to the unenhanced mind. Several opaque objects became mirrors, windows into other dimensions. I was reminded of high-dose psilocybin experiences in which the visual stereoscopic depth perception was superceded by what appeared to be a triangular, prismatic perception, a third layer falling over my eyes. My sense of time dissolved as I entered the familiar eternal moment. For whatever reason I was unable to make eye contact, as if making eye contact would be too profound and profane and hilarious to tolerate. My sense of time came back after about ten minutes, and then the entire effect evaporated by fifteen minutes in, leaving my mind to take its victory laps for another half hour or so.
Haven't done it since, but I won't say I wouldn't. After all, there are so many cheat codes, and only so much time left. Currently I am interested to learn of a similarly short-acting and powerful phenethylamine. I have heard good things about 5-Meo-DALT, but very few things. Of course I am eager to participate in discussions of all types. Humans and cyberhumans are such social creatures!
In short I just want to say that I am very happy to be here, and very happy that you are here as well. Good luck to all!
Welcome to the community of droogs, malchicks, and devotchkas dedicated to beauty and truth. you are most welcome 