The following is in reference to the fictitious "I"
Prior to ingesting my brew, to try and reduce the nausea, at around 8 pm, I ate a bowl of rice. I had also bought mixed mint leaves which I read if you shove it up your nose, it makes the taste of the Mimosa much more bearable as well as reducing the nausea. I also used it to chew on to try and get the taste out of my mouth in between sips. In retrospect I probably took too many precautions to reduce the nausea which would come back to bite me in the ass later. I took the Mimosa mix out of the freezer to let it thaw into three layers. I scraped the top grayish layer off with paper towel, and poured the red liquid into two cups, disposing of the dark crap on the bottom. I took a spoonful of sugar and mixed it into one of the cups. At around 11:30 or so, I easily swallowed the 11 capsules filled with the Syrian Rue I had measured out, and my brother and I went back out on the porch to smoke a bowl. We are almost never this reckless as it is very out in the open, but I didn't want to have to walk far, thinking it might increase the nausea. Just as we were about done with the bowl, and I was about to start drinking the Ayahuasca, my mom walked out. I quickly stashed the bowl in my pocket, but she clearly smelled it. It was the first time I was being caught or even confronted about the issue, and it was right before I was to consume my beloved liquid magic nonetheless! We denied everything, though clearly she didn't believe it. She went back in, and we waited for her to go back to sleep as we were sure was imminent being as she had complained all day of how exhausted she was. It took her some considerable time to finally get back into bed, but it was pretty late and expecting the trip to last for several hours, I knew it was now or never.
The time was 12:20, I was downstairs in my brother's room (AKA the basement), and I had inserted the mint leaves up my nostrils. I was very nervous, feeling absolutely no effects from the rue at all, as I had on a previously unsuccessful occasion, yet counterintuitively even more nervous because I was relatively confident this might actually work! With the mint in my nose I was able to taste very little Ayahuasca at all. It tasted pretty neutral, and I would highly recommend this method, especially in terms of improving the taste, as it is supposed to lower the nausea as well. I sat patiently, careful not to get up before I either had to absolutely make it to the bathroom to puke, or at least until I was able to perceive some effects.
As I sat, nervously and anxiously anticipating the future, leaving the mint up my nose, I watched TV with my brother. We were able to find nothing on the television with the exception of Futurama. It was the episode where Leela becomes the first female blernsball player. The third line that we heard when we put the show on was Fry saying, "Aww, don't cry foreign people. I used to work in a pizzeria and as soon as I stop hallucinating and blasting puke, I'm gonna teach you to sell pizza - Earth style!" Both my brother and I were in complete awe and shock at what we had just heard, and how incredulously divine and coincidental that he should say that as I sit in wait myself, waiting to puke and hallucinate! Eventually we turned the TV off.
Things were starting to look different, but at first I was quite unsure just what was different. Colors may have been starting to get a bit more vibrant, but nothing terribly noticeable. The first real perceivable change in visuals I experienced was that as I stared at my brother's royal blue carpet, the fibers in the carpet began rearranging themselves into subtle patterns, reminiscent of how they might on acid. I was beginning to feel slightly nauseous, but it didn't seem like my body was ready to puke, just an uncomfortable queasiness. I made my way upstairs, and was just looking around to try and see how things might be different. I decided that playing guitar might be a good idea so I went up to my room, sat down at my computer chair with my unplugged electric guitar, and began jamming away. It was pretty fun for a few minutes, and I remember liking the sound and the groove, but I began to grow pretty weak pretty quickly to the point where it was too much of a hassle to support the guitar, and I was forced to put it back on its stand. Everything in my room looked pretty cool in some subtle trippy way. These visual distortions seemed to be more organic and smooth. Closer to shrooms than acid in that respect, yet not close to as exaggerated.
I decided that since I was growing weaker by the minute, I might as well put on my headphones and listen to some music from my computer. I remember listening to close to three songs, and while I can't remember them all, they all seemed to be greatly enhanced. The first one (and the only one I can remember listening to) was a video on youtube of Queen back from 1977 when they had a show in Houston and played "White Man" leading into a very trippy Freddie Mercury vocal improv. For those of you who want to hear possibly the trippiest thing you'll ever hear, bearing in mind no digital effects or technology were used, I highly recommend looking into this video, despite the rather outlandish costume Freddie sports. I looked away from the video as I listened to the music as a sort of mental exercise I like to play while tripping where I will close my eyes and try to visualize what the music looks like visually as I try to incite synesthesia. I went back downstairs to the basement where my brother was. At this point, standing up was starting to become difficult, as I staggered around. The nausea was growing stronger, but it still didn't seem like I was gonna be able to puke. I decided I might try and expedite the process some by forcing myself. I was able to get a little bit up, nothing really, and certainly nothing compared to the time I puked on my first failed attempt.
My brother and I decided to go smoke another bowl, hoping that the cannabis might just get rid of he nausea altogether. This time we were more clever in where we went to smoke outside. Walking there seemed to be a real pain, and the walk back was even harder. I was starting to grow incredibly sleepy which was frustrating because based on the visuals I was having, it was growing quite clear that sleep was truly nowhere in sight. At this point in time, the house was subtly coming to life, and everything began taking on a slight buzzing quality. Not so much a buzzing sound as I know commonly accompanies DMT trips, but rather it was like everything was crackling with energy. I was beginning to get some distinct closed-eye visuals. The colors were deep colors, predominated by reds and purples. The patterns were strikingly familiar, and seemingly sinister. They were not like patterns I had seen on shrooms, acid, or salvia. They may have born a slight resemblance to ones I had seen when I smoked DMT for the second time and closed my eyes, but those were much more highly detailed with brighter, more vivid colors, and just of a different quality altogether. These patterns reminded me of some crazy ones you'd see on a jester's clothing, and throughout the experience, it sometimes seemed like I was looking at an open mouth with a big tongue flopping out. Not like a real mouth and a real tongue, but the patterns configured as such. If I would open my eyes, the patterns would linger a bit as impressions in reality, but would eventually be dominated by the visual buzzing. I was still a bit queasy which was growing ever frustrating along with the gradual loss of control over my body. At no point in the experience did I have an out of body experience, but rather lack of control, like an infant who didn't quite have the muscle memory to use its limbs effectively. I watched a couple episodes of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" in an attempt to lighten to the mood, as well as hopefully fall asleep, as the current state was uncomfortable. Funnily enough, Danny Devito looked like an elf. Unlike the smoked DMT, this Ayahuasca offered no direct euphoria, only wonder and awe at some of the beauty of my surroundings. The closed-eye visuals also grew a bit disturbing, additionally making sleep unobtainable. I got up to drink some water, and as I would move the cup away from my mouth, I would see a trailing image of the cup going down to the table. Even the trailers would maintain the buzzing quality. After watching a couple episodes in the living room, I tried to make my way upstairs. It was too difficult to do the old fashioned way (with just your legs) as I was forced to use my fists on the stairs, walking up on all-fours. When I got to the stairs I was unable to stand up, and decided that the only way I was going to get to my room was if I were to crawl there. Talk about feeling like an infant! As I got through my door I collapsed, unable to gather the will to even shut my door to hide my sprawled out body on the floor. Eventually after several moments of rest, I got up shut the door and fell into bed. Sleepy as could be, weak as could be, nauseous and hallucinating, I laid uncomfortably in bed for a few minutes. For some reason, even though I was having the hardest time moving around, walking was all I was compelled to do. Eventually my brother went to sleep as I spent the next several hours watching Always Sunny and staggering lifelessly like a zombie around my house. I was texting some friends of mine about how the experience was going, and one of my friends who lives a couple towns away, decided to come over and smoke. I wanted to smoke because I know that at least in the case of smoked DMT, cannabis reduces the DMT's effects, as well as the fact that I quite simply couldn't find my bud.
By the time he got to my house, he showed up with his little brother rather loudly in his Porche at around 5:30 in the morning. It was starting to get light out, though still no sign of the sun. Outdoors looked somewhat enchanting. I was starting to regain energy and felt like I had been through the bulk of the experience. I lead them over to my usual smoking spot, and we passed around my bowl. His little brother was all screwed up on Xanax, so he was staggering around thinking he was so messed up. I've been there, and based on where I had just been, I knew that the high he was riding was like a kiddy ride. As we walked down the street, I was able to see the sunrise, and it was beautiful. The leaves on the trees through which the deep orange beams of light shone through took on diamond and rhombus like shapes, though not like the vivid interlocking rhomboids of light I had seen during my first smoked experience with DMT.
I got back to my house and we chatted outside for a bit. I pretty much figured the trip was over as it was now close to 7 in the morning, and I had been tripping for a good six and a half hours or so. I told them I was just gonna head to sleep, but I really just wanted to go on my back porch and epitomize on the sunrise with the mild trippiness that was left in my vision. As I sat on the chair, I began to grow increasingly nauseous. As I stared at my porch, it began bugging out, constantly shifting in size. This was making me even more nauseous. I stood up and went upstairs to bed again to try sleep one last time. I laid in bed with my eyes open, staring at the wall about half a foot away from my face. I could tell it was slightly distorted, and the nausea persisted.
What happened next at around the seventh hour of tripping, ever nauseous, as I laid still in my bed made the previous hours of hell well worth it. I began to hear a voice in my head that I initially interpreted as my own internal narrative (that voice, my voice, that psycho-verbally narrates my thoughts throughout the day), except this wasn't my voice, and it wasn't making much sense. It was a very fruity, high-pitched, male voice. I don't know why I perceived it as male, but that's just how it was interpreted. The voice seemed to be in like a weird 5 part harmony, but not with pitches that we would considered to be a part of western music. The 5 or so voices were singing homorhythmically: all their syllables were the same, but they would be on different, ever shifting pitches. They were singing about complete nonsense: utter gibberish. The words were real words, and the sentences were actually pretty close if not perfectly grammatically correct, if I can remember well, but it was like random, useless information. It was like listening to a game of mad libs where all the nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, etc... were all in the right places, but just didn't go together. I had my eyes open for most of this part of the experience, though as the harmonious voices continued to flamboyantly sing, they would create corresponding patterns in my mind's eye. As they blabbered away, the nausea intensified at an accelerating rate. It finally became clear that I would be able to puke up everything I had been storing in my stomach (including the rice from much earlier) for the past 11 hours or so. I got out of bed, went down stairs, pleasantly dry heaving as I made my way down the stairs. I got to the bathroom, and finally, such as during my first attempt, I had several gut wrenching convulsions, expelling the Ayahuasca, rice and mint leaves.
Once I initially thought it was over, before hearing the voices, I should have known better as I had read many an experience where the trip seemed to be over, only to come back full force. Between the 7th and 8th hour, I came down to baseline, watching some Always Sunny to keep me in a happy mood. By the start of the eighth hour after the start of the trip, I was completely done. I had heard that the trip could last 4-8 hours, but I hadn't expected that I would experience the upper limits of that range. I was delighted afterwards knowing that I was successful in creating for myself, something so psychedelic, though I wish the experience would have been both more visual and euphoric. If I ever try Ayahuasca again, I'll be trying the Caapi/Psychotria combination for less nausea, and a hopefully more pleasant experience.
All in all, I don't regret the decision to go through with the experience at all, despite the sometimes extreme discomfort and frustration felt throughout, as I felt it made me mentally stronger, and I felt like it emotionally healed me in some unexplainable way. In the middle of the trip I dumped the other dose I had made for myself, as I didn't feel comfortable subjecting anyone I knew to what I had just gone through, and didn't feel like doing it again any time soon.
Prior to ingesting my brew, to try and reduce the nausea, at around 8 pm, I ate a bowl of rice. I had also bought mixed mint leaves which I read if you shove it up your nose, it makes the taste of the Mimosa much more bearable as well as reducing the nausea. I also used it to chew on to try and get the taste out of my mouth in between sips. In retrospect I probably took too many precautions to reduce the nausea which would come back to bite me in the ass later. I took the Mimosa mix out of the freezer to let it thaw into three layers. I scraped the top grayish layer off with paper towel, and poured the red liquid into two cups, disposing of the dark crap on the bottom. I took a spoonful of sugar and mixed it into one of the cups. At around 11:30 or so, I easily swallowed the 11 capsules filled with the Syrian Rue I had measured out, and my brother and I went back out on the porch to smoke a bowl. We are almost never this reckless as it is very out in the open, but I didn't want to have to walk far, thinking it might increase the nausea. Just as we were about done with the bowl, and I was about to start drinking the Ayahuasca, my mom walked out. I quickly stashed the bowl in my pocket, but she clearly smelled it. It was the first time I was being caught or even confronted about the issue, and it was right before I was to consume my beloved liquid magic nonetheless! We denied everything, though clearly she didn't believe it. She went back in, and we waited for her to go back to sleep as we were sure was imminent being as she had complained all day of how exhausted she was. It took her some considerable time to finally get back into bed, but it was pretty late and expecting the trip to last for several hours, I knew it was now or never.
The time was 12:20, I was downstairs in my brother's room (AKA the basement), and I had inserted the mint leaves up my nostrils. I was very nervous, feeling absolutely no effects from the rue at all, as I had on a previously unsuccessful occasion, yet counterintuitively even more nervous because I was relatively confident this might actually work! With the mint in my nose I was able to taste very little Ayahuasca at all. It tasted pretty neutral, and I would highly recommend this method, especially in terms of improving the taste, as it is supposed to lower the nausea as well. I sat patiently, careful not to get up before I either had to absolutely make it to the bathroom to puke, or at least until I was able to perceive some effects.
As I sat, nervously and anxiously anticipating the future, leaving the mint up my nose, I watched TV with my brother. We were able to find nothing on the television with the exception of Futurama. It was the episode where Leela becomes the first female blernsball player. The third line that we heard when we put the show on was Fry saying, "Aww, don't cry foreign people. I used to work in a pizzeria and as soon as I stop hallucinating and blasting puke, I'm gonna teach you to sell pizza - Earth style!" Both my brother and I were in complete awe and shock at what we had just heard, and how incredulously divine and coincidental that he should say that as I sit in wait myself, waiting to puke and hallucinate! Eventually we turned the TV off.
Things were starting to look different, but at first I was quite unsure just what was different. Colors may have been starting to get a bit more vibrant, but nothing terribly noticeable. The first real perceivable change in visuals I experienced was that as I stared at my brother's royal blue carpet, the fibers in the carpet began rearranging themselves into subtle patterns, reminiscent of how they might on acid. I was beginning to feel slightly nauseous, but it didn't seem like my body was ready to puke, just an uncomfortable queasiness. I made my way upstairs, and was just looking around to try and see how things might be different. I decided that playing guitar might be a good idea so I went up to my room, sat down at my computer chair with my unplugged electric guitar, and began jamming away. It was pretty fun for a few minutes, and I remember liking the sound and the groove, but I began to grow pretty weak pretty quickly to the point where it was too much of a hassle to support the guitar, and I was forced to put it back on its stand. Everything in my room looked pretty cool in some subtle trippy way. These visual distortions seemed to be more organic and smooth. Closer to shrooms than acid in that respect, yet not close to as exaggerated.
I decided that since I was growing weaker by the minute, I might as well put on my headphones and listen to some music from my computer. I remember listening to close to three songs, and while I can't remember them all, they all seemed to be greatly enhanced. The first one (and the only one I can remember listening to) was a video on youtube of Queen back from 1977 when they had a show in Houston and played "White Man" leading into a very trippy Freddie Mercury vocal improv. For those of you who want to hear possibly the trippiest thing you'll ever hear, bearing in mind no digital effects or technology were used, I highly recommend looking into this video, despite the rather outlandish costume Freddie sports. I looked away from the video as I listened to the music as a sort of mental exercise I like to play while tripping where I will close my eyes and try to visualize what the music looks like visually as I try to incite synesthesia. I went back downstairs to the basement where my brother was. At this point, standing up was starting to become difficult, as I staggered around. The nausea was growing stronger, but it still didn't seem like I was gonna be able to puke. I decided I might try and expedite the process some by forcing myself. I was able to get a little bit up, nothing really, and certainly nothing compared to the time I puked on my first failed attempt.
My brother and I decided to go smoke another bowl, hoping that the cannabis might just get rid of he nausea altogether. This time we were more clever in where we went to smoke outside. Walking there seemed to be a real pain, and the walk back was even harder. I was starting to grow incredibly sleepy which was frustrating because based on the visuals I was having, it was growing quite clear that sleep was truly nowhere in sight. At this point in time, the house was subtly coming to life, and everything began taking on a slight buzzing quality. Not so much a buzzing sound as I know commonly accompanies DMT trips, but rather it was like everything was crackling with energy. I was beginning to get some distinct closed-eye visuals. The colors were deep colors, predominated by reds and purples. The patterns were strikingly familiar, and seemingly sinister. They were not like patterns I had seen on shrooms, acid, or salvia. They may have born a slight resemblance to ones I had seen when I smoked DMT for the second time and closed my eyes, but those were much more highly detailed with brighter, more vivid colors, and just of a different quality altogether. These patterns reminded me of some crazy ones you'd see on a jester's clothing, and throughout the experience, it sometimes seemed like I was looking at an open mouth with a big tongue flopping out. Not like a real mouth and a real tongue, but the patterns configured as such. If I would open my eyes, the patterns would linger a bit as impressions in reality, but would eventually be dominated by the visual buzzing. I was still a bit queasy which was growing ever frustrating along with the gradual loss of control over my body. At no point in the experience did I have an out of body experience, but rather lack of control, like an infant who didn't quite have the muscle memory to use its limbs effectively. I watched a couple episodes of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" in an attempt to lighten to the mood, as well as hopefully fall asleep, as the current state was uncomfortable. Funnily enough, Danny Devito looked like an elf. Unlike the smoked DMT, this Ayahuasca offered no direct euphoria, only wonder and awe at some of the beauty of my surroundings. The closed-eye visuals also grew a bit disturbing, additionally making sleep unobtainable. I got up to drink some water, and as I would move the cup away from my mouth, I would see a trailing image of the cup going down to the table. Even the trailers would maintain the buzzing quality. After watching a couple episodes in the living room, I tried to make my way upstairs. It was too difficult to do the old fashioned way (with just your legs) as I was forced to use my fists on the stairs, walking up on all-fours. When I got to the stairs I was unable to stand up, and decided that the only way I was going to get to my room was if I were to crawl there. Talk about feeling like an infant! As I got through my door I collapsed, unable to gather the will to even shut my door to hide my sprawled out body on the floor. Eventually after several moments of rest, I got up shut the door and fell into bed. Sleepy as could be, weak as could be, nauseous and hallucinating, I laid uncomfortably in bed for a few minutes. For some reason, even though I was having the hardest time moving around, walking was all I was compelled to do. Eventually my brother went to sleep as I spent the next several hours watching Always Sunny and staggering lifelessly like a zombie around my house. I was texting some friends of mine about how the experience was going, and one of my friends who lives a couple towns away, decided to come over and smoke. I wanted to smoke because I know that at least in the case of smoked DMT, cannabis reduces the DMT's effects, as well as the fact that I quite simply couldn't find my bud.
By the time he got to my house, he showed up with his little brother rather loudly in his Porche at around 5:30 in the morning. It was starting to get light out, though still no sign of the sun. Outdoors looked somewhat enchanting. I was starting to regain energy and felt like I had been through the bulk of the experience. I lead them over to my usual smoking spot, and we passed around my bowl. His little brother was all screwed up on Xanax, so he was staggering around thinking he was so messed up. I've been there, and based on where I had just been, I knew that the high he was riding was like a kiddy ride. As we walked down the street, I was able to see the sunrise, and it was beautiful. The leaves on the trees through which the deep orange beams of light shone through took on diamond and rhombus like shapes, though not like the vivid interlocking rhomboids of light I had seen during my first smoked experience with DMT.
I got back to my house and we chatted outside for a bit. I pretty much figured the trip was over as it was now close to 7 in the morning, and I had been tripping for a good six and a half hours or so. I told them I was just gonna head to sleep, but I really just wanted to go on my back porch and epitomize on the sunrise with the mild trippiness that was left in my vision. As I sat on the chair, I began to grow increasingly nauseous. As I stared at my porch, it began bugging out, constantly shifting in size. This was making me even more nauseous. I stood up and went upstairs to bed again to try sleep one last time. I laid in bed with my eyes open, staring at the wall about half a foot away from my face. I could tell it was slightly distorted, and the nausea persisted.
What happened next at around the seventh hour of tripping, ever nauseous, as I laid still in my bed made the previous hours of hell well worth it. I began to hear a voice in my head that I initially interpreted as my own internal narrative (that voice, my voice, that psycho-verbally narrates my thoughts throughout the day), except this wasn't my voice, and it wasn't making much sense. It was a very fruity, high-pitched, male voice. I don't know why I perceived it as male, but that's just how it was interpreted. The voice seemed to be in like a weird 5 part harmony, but not with pitches that we would considered to be a part of western music. The 5 or so voices were singing homorhythmically: all their syllables were the same, but they would be on different, ever shifting pitches. They were singing about complete nonsense: utter gibberish. The words were real words, and the sentences were actually pretty close if not perfectly grammatically correct, if I can remember well, but it was like random, useless information. It was like listening to a game of mad libs where all the nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, etc... were all in the right places, but just didn't go together. I had my eyes open for most of this part of the experience, though as the harmonious voices continued to flamboyantly sing, they would create corresponding patterns in my mind's eye. As they blabbered away, the nausea intensified at an accelerating rate. It finally became clear that I would be able to puke up everything I had been storing in my stomach (including the rice from much earlier) for the past 11 hours or so. I got out of bed, went down stairs, pleasantly dry heaving as I made my way down the stairs. I got to the bathroom, and finally, such as during my first attempt, I had several gut wrenching convulsions, expelling the Ayahuasca, rice and mint leaves.
Once I initially thought it was over, before hearing the voices, I should have known better as I had read many an experience where the trip seemed to be over, only to come back full force. Between the 7th and 8th hour, I came down to baseline, watching some Always Sunny to keep me in a happy mood. By the start of the eighth hour after the start of the trip, I was completely done. I had heard that the trip could last 4-8 hours, but I hadn't expected that I would experience the upper limits of that range. I was delighted afterwards knowing that I was successful in creating for myself, something so psychedelic, though I wish the experience would have been both more visual and euphoric. If I ever try Ayahuasca again, I'll be trying the Caapi/Psychotria combination for less nausea, and a hopefully more pleasant experience.
All in all, I don't regret the decision to go through with the experience at all, despite the sometimes extreme discomfort and frustration felt throughout, as I felt it made me mentally stronger, and I felt like it emotionally healed me in some unexplainable way. In the middle of the trip I dumped the other dose I had made for myself, as I didn't feel comfortable subjecting anyone I knew to what I had just gone through, and didn't feel like doing it again any time soon.
