One night I was meditating on a high dose of L, when I decided to drink syrian rue tea. Not too long after that I was on my knees begging for my life from the extreme bronchoconstriction and during this period of prayer I was given a glimpse through a shamans eyes.
I was on top of a pyramid. Where? Was it aztek, mayan, some other culture? No idea...but it had that vibe with the head dresses, clothing, tattoos, rituals, etc...
I was shown that during sacrificial rituals, there is always a shaman there in hyperspace observing the fleeing souls, so to speak. Now, I don't know how necessarily true that is, BUT I was given this vision in real time from what felt like thousands of years ago. This actually happened. How I was accessing it, I am not sure.
A man was severing heads and they were rolling.
There was fire, skulls, and I think copal resin being burned.
The sounds were gruesome but there is a part of me that was insanely satisfied by watching and being a part of this. It's my inner warrior. Fantasies processing rage.
The sun was shining bright on me as I watched through the shamans eyes...who was rattling and speaking what sounded like gibberish
Although I was not him, I was an observer. I was a step back from the main eyes.
It reminded me of how I felt like coming back from hyperspace....seemingly crawling back into a vacant shell. My body has been seen through by many hyperspatial travelers. It's an eerie feeling,
being a window
in this grand experiment.