I'm curious if anyone else experiences distinct, recurring sounds at the end of an experience's peak and of what type.
The sound I hear as hyperspace fades away nearly every time is a sort of 'plink' sound - almost like a water drop, but with a somewhat metallic undertone. This is followed by a series of sounds that are like the first in reverse. The series that follows almost seems to dance around the room a bit, as if a painter were flicking small lines of paint made of sound upon the dwindling folds of hyperspace. Generally, the stronger the experience the longer the series lasts - on average being a total of maybe 8 distinct sounds. They originate to my left, and are distinguishable from any other sounds being produced by me, the radio, furnace, etc.
I never gave it much thought, but last evening after a somewhat trying experience, their appearance came with a rush of both relief and amusement. As with many other subtleties DMT has shown me, I had entirely forgotten about them until that point. "Oh yeah!", I thought - and I guess, one could say, finally committed their existence to memory to speak of.
The sound I hear as hyperspace fades away nearly every time is a sort of 'plink' sound - almost like a water drop, but with a somewhat metallic undertone. This is followed by a series of sounds that are like the first in reverse. The series that follows almost seems to dance around the room a bit, as if a painter were flicking small lines of paint made of sound upon the dwindling folds of hyperspace. Generally, the stronger the experience the longer the series lasts - on average being a total of maybe 8 distinct sounds. They originate to my left, and are distinguishable from any other sounds being produced by me, the radio, furnace, etc.
I never gave it much thought, but last evening after a somewhat trying experience, their appearance came with a rush of both relief and amusement. As with many other subtleties DMT has shown me, I had entirely forgotten about them until that point. "Oh yeah!", I thought - and I guess, one could say, finally committed their existence to memory to speak of.

