DIMENSION INTRUSION
The voltage of the object ramps up as it moved even closer to my body. I could now see bright white arcs of light interlaced between the main colours of the mesh like pattern.
I felt a light scribing scan up and down my body. It paused at various points and scanned harder, the electrical activity becoming super intense in places like my solar plexus. It was like an opto-electric surgical operation conducted by an entity I have never in my life seen before or even could have imagined. What I did know was, it was the ayahuasca.
The whole experience was such a quick sudden shock I felt uncomfortable and wasn’t sure in my mind if I trusted this. I put up a block to stop the object from entering my inner core.
I'd had enough and sat upright. As soon as I did the object disappeared. On contemplation of the event I know I should have let it in and do its work. I'd had asked to be healed. I felt slightly disappointed. Maybe the next series of events wouldn’t have happened if I had accepted and not fought against it.
I look around the room and my vision is quite clear any without any psychedelic nuances. I hear singing; the words deepen in tone and quiver and quaver into a sub harmonic tone that resonates inside of me. I feel the words emanate from inside me.
I’m drawn towards the centre pillar of the room. I stand up and shuffle forwards until my hand feels the hard mahogany pillar. I look over and try to see the shaman through the inky blackness of the room. I sense his presence and actually feel a warm from his body I but cannot see him. I feel energy radiating from him. I feel compelled to vocalise the words that are inside me and start to feebly try and copy them. The host comes over instructs me to go back to my mat. After the ceremony I did feel quite rude in standing up singling whilst the shaman was but I honestly couldn’t help it.
I now realised the ayahuasca has taken full effect. I felt a little wonky and unsteady. I tried to get comfortable on the mat but just shuffled around. I felt feverish. My thoughts drifted and I start to think about mosquitoes and malaria. I hadn’t taken any form of anti-malaria medication and had already been bitten numerous times. I feel uneasy and paranoid. My forehead was chilled with a cold sweat.
I looked across the room and could now see my host sat right beside the shaman. They were both looking at me. My mind was trapped in what I felt to be a malaria induced fever. I feel the shaman noticed this.
As I looked over I saw a bluish triangle with quite acute bottoms angles at head level just in front of my host and the shaman. The triangle was just a blue outline outline surrounded by fuzzy fluorescent green. It hovered in the air like a holograph.
The triangle turned in to a badge like emblem. My eyes were fixed on it all the time. In the back of my mind I was still thinking about mosquitoes. As I shifted my thoughts from mosquitoes to the triangle a logo formed in the middle of the triangle. In an instant the triangle shot towards me and entered me. I felt a strange relief as my body absorbed the logo and I instantaneously realised I was free from any negative thoughts of mosquitoes or malaria.
I lay back again on my mat and closed my eyes. The shaman was singing a different icaros this time that felt sad. The tone of the notes had darkened and it was much more solemn.
My thoughts started cascading and I felt time was looping. My visions followed the dark theme of the icaros and my mind started playing a slideshow of morbid images.
Whore, rentboy, gravestone, abortion, bucket, conquistador, ship, Spanish flag, the bell tolls, mist, Vikings, Hades, death sails towards me the sadness and pain of the story has me writhing in agony on my mat, twisting and turning but never an exit point. The whole episode is relentless, heat seeking mental and physical torture.
I'm trapped in a molecule, resonating back and forth between poles of anguish and agony in a story that has no relationship to my life whatsoever or maybe it does?
I felt nauseas and try to vomit in the bucket but can only spit. The spit sticks to my lips and I have to flick it away with my hand. I try so hard to vomit the experience out but can’t. Each time I look into the bucket I think about my partner thousands of miles away pregnant with my child.
The icaros starts up again, whistling at first and then the words oh the words... die, die da da da die die. It goes round and round and rains down a toxic mind splitting bomb, its payload shattering any thoughts of any exit point. I turn and look at my mat for sanctuary, security I want to lie down and get away from this. As I look behind me the mat has turned into a marble white tombstone complete with fitting epitaph. No place to rest no place to hide.
I hear a high pitched metallic noise that slices through my body. I realised after, this was a Tibetan bowl or cymbal the shaman was using. It arrived at a significant point in my psychedelic drama and cut through the air like surgical steel at the point in my theatrical life where my umbilical is cut. I didn’t choose to lie down and die I have just been reborn.
The grave curdling melody loops and the bitter reality hits me hard, like a swinging 10 tonne church bell ringing a morbid tone - dawn has just broken once more on the sombre story of my life.
I realise I’m going to go through the whole story again, I can’t take this but the film loops and replays once more.
Words cannot describe the depth of sadness and despair when you realise it only the start of your life and you know what's coming. I'd ride the eschaton sitting on the handle bars peddling backwards but the f***err never gives me the chance to forget.
You know what’s coming and you have to live it out once more. Reincarnation into the lower realms, hungry ghosts and spokes of agony with time stretched barbs that rip and tear the soul.
The alternative, as I'm reminded is to die. I know I'm going to automatically turn round in 3 seconds and look at my own gravestone. But after a million years and a million lives I finally realise, I'm a fighter, a warrior and I lie down for no one.
I come to the realisation this is a film on repeat and the director is shaman sat opposite me. F**k this shit; I'm getting out of here. I summon the energy to stand up and feverishly head straight for the door. Curdles of sickness follow me but I’m out of here.