Tummy full, joint between lips, and vape by my side, I write to a report and reflection.
In the spirit of a) doing what I'd like and b) playing with my GVG moar, I decided to smoalk around 20mg of enhanced leaf out of said GVG. It was already loaded, making it easier to get ready. The total amount of DMT is around 10mg in this batch of EF. I'm trying to dial in my technique a bit moar so am playing around with it, though 10mg has proved to be steep for an ever evolving and sensitizing system as my own.
It was mild. But nice.
The thought that I should redose moar, came to mind. Then I posted it on my status here. Then I got up, grabbed my changa pipe (also already loaded) sat back down and took a hit... I wasn't satisfied, but instead of stewing in my dissatisfaction and being unwilling to allow myself moar, I sat up and took a couple moar hits. I wasn't trying to do anything crazy, just get to a level that I could feel settled with. Reflecting the whole time on how much this can be a struggle, and then laughing at myself, since I was feeling pretty good, and reflecting well, and evolving with myself, a part of me knew still, that while I have what I need to go where I want in these spaces (I've done it many times before), that once out of it for long enough, I'd be back at "square one" again regardless. I laughed.
It's an odd thing. I really don't feel that this endeavor should be taken lightly, but instead approached thoughtfully, with respect and reverence. At the same time it highlights how so much is laughable, including the hang-ups and compunctions one might have about being in the space, but that can only be seen in light of said reverence and respect.
It ended up being a nice blend of mystical and philosophical with a nice little existential sprinkling.
This medicine is weird. It scares me. I love it.
One love