ElevatorAlley
Rising Star
A few days of hesitation and uncertainty brought me to to this hour. Somehow, through some miracle, I was ready to jump back in. I loaded about 140 mg of high-potency changa (roughly 1:1 caapi and DMT extract by weight) into a bong and sprinkled a thin layer of caapi on top to provide warming embers and protection to the spice.
I turned off the lights -- this was my first voyage in relative darkness. My air purifier provided a steady white noise, but I didn't use music. (I have not used music yet -- maybe this would alter the experience substantially?)
After some minutes of tranquil meditation, checking my breathing and heart rate to make sure I wasn't overly anxious at the moment of blasting off, I torched the bowl. Half measures serve no one. Once the bowl was lit, the only way out is through. As the smoke first entered my lungs, I felt a certain doubt -- maybe nothing will happen (Yeah right, this is tried and tested changa, and this was a higher dose than I'd ever dared to consume.) As the bowl started to burn and I struggled to keep in the smoke, I felt the first twinge of strangeness. I knew I had no choice but to double down and try to consume the full quantity before I blasted off. By the time the bowl was fully cherried, I knew that a strong experience was on the way, and I had no choice but to keep going and try to finish the bowl
As the last embers turned yellow, I pulled the slide, my vision pulsated with a million tiny hexagons, I managed to set the bong aside, and then.. I was gone.
The darkness imparted a certain sinister quality to the voyage, as I was blasted into a million tiny pieces, rearranged in every conceivable combination, and granted a glimpse of the great and incomprehensible truth beneath all of existence. I felt as if at the intersection point of all possible realities, forced to perceive everything at once and strain to make sense of it. There was a jagged character to the visual elements this time, like cracks in the fabric of time and space through which other realities could be seen.
All this is only poetic language, because no words can possibly describe. You know the feeling.
I can say without hesitation that it was the most terrifying and overwhelming experience of my life, but I was able to accept and weather it. I suppose at that point I had little choice. As pieces of my reality began to regain coherence, and I began to understand that in all likelihood, I would be returning to my existence as a single, flesh-based entity, I felt strong. I felt like I never needed to fear anything again. Not after that. I felt the urge to laugh. Nothing could ever hurt me.
Even as I was coming down, and my legs were shaking and twitching violently, I felt amazed and empowered to return to my existence. The darkness still cast a threatening air. One half of my bedroom looked as if melted and opened up into hyperspace, like a slowly closing portal. I cherished the remaining shimmer of hyperspace reality, as the shaking in my body subsided.
Some lessons I took away: I can see how this could be a terrifying experience for a sitter, and why it is a terrible idea to sell or distribute a drug like this. To the outside observer, I must have looked like I was having a seizure for a half hour. This was also the first time I took conscious note of the time. I would have imagined only five minutes had passed, but it was more like thirty. This evokes a dim awareness that I passed through different phases and experiences during the trip. I hold onto every image and feeling that came to me like rare and precious gems. With some focus, I can just barely get a grasp on some pieces of the experience, but it slips away in an instant. One thing is certain: While I was there, that was my reality.
I am truly astounded and grateful, but humbled in the presence of this chemical and curious where its path may lead me (if indeed I dare to continue further).
As always, thanks Nexians.
I turned off the lights -- this was my first voyage in relative darkness. My air purifier provided a steady white noise, but I didn't use music. (I have not used music yet -- maybe this would alter the experience substantially?)
After some minutes of tranquil meditation, checking my breathing and heart rate to make sure I wasn't overly anxious at the moment of blasting off, I torched the bowl. Half measures serve no one. Once the bowl was lit, the only way out is through. As the smoke first entered my lungs, I felt a certain doubt -- maybe nothing will happen (Yeah right, this is tried and tested changa, and this was a higher dose than I'd ever dared to consume.) As the bowl started to burn and I struggled to keep in the smoke, I felt the first twinge of strangeness. I knew I had no choice but to double down and try to consume the full quantity before I blasted off. By the time the bowl was fully cherried, I knew that a strong experience was on the way, and I had no choice but to keep going and try to finish the bowl
As the last embers turned yellow, I pulled the slide, my vision pulsated with a million tiny hexagons, I managed to set the bong aside, and then.. I was gone.
The darkness imparted a certain sinister quality to the voyage, as I was blasted into a million tiny pieces, rearranged in every conceivable combination, and granted a glimpse of the great and incomprehensible truth beneath all of existence. I felt as if at the intersection point of all possible realities, forced to perceive everything at once and strain to make sense of it. There was a jagged character to the visual elements this time, like cracks in the fabric of time and space through which other realities could be seen.
All this is only poetic language, because no words can possibly describe. You know the feeling.
I can say without hesitation that it was the most terrifying and overwhelming experience of my life, but I was able to accept and weather it. I suppose at that point I had little choice. As pieces of my reality began to regain coherence, and I began to understand that in all likelihood, I would be returning to my existence as a single, flesh-based entity, I felt strong. I felt like I never needed to fear anything again. Not after that. I felt the urge to laugh. Nothing could ever hurt me.
Even as I was coming down, and my legs were shaking and twitching violently, I felt amazed and empowered to return to my existence. The darkness still cast a threatening air. One half of my bedroom looked as if melted and opened up into hyperspace, like a slowly closing portal. I cherished the remaining shimmer of hyperspace reality, as the shaking in my body subsided.
Some lessons I took away: I can see how this could be a terrifying experience for a sitter, and why it is a terrible idea to sell or distribute a drug like this. To the outside observer, I must have looked like I was having a seizure for a half hour. This was also the first time I took conscious note of the time. I would have imagined only five minutes had passed, but it was more like thirty. This evokes a dim awareness that I passed through different phases and experiences during the trip. I hold onto every image and feeling that came to me like rare and precious gems. With some focus, I can just barely get a grasp on some pieces of the experience, but it slips away in an instant. One thing is certain: While I was there, that was my reality.
I am truly astounded and grateful, but humbled in the presence of this chemical and curious where its path may lead me (if indeed I dare to continue further).
As always, thanks Nexians.
