m.w.r.labs
The Solitary Alchemist
Not a hallucination. Not a dream. This was a direct encounter with the architecture of consciousness.
---
Substance & Setting
• Substance: Amanita muscaria, 7 grams dry
• Preparation: Decarboxylated, brewed in tea, consumed in silence
• Set & Setting: Alone, at night, full moon, eyes closed, ears blocked (earplugs)
• State: I was fully awake and aware of my body and surroundings the entire time. If I opened my eyes, I was in my room. But with eyes closed, something deeper emerged — something I could touch, feel, inhabit.
---
INTRO
This post is a vision-log — a symbolic and lucid account of what happened during a deep ritual experience with Amanita muscaria.
I do not claim this to be universal.
But I also insist: this was not fantasy. Not delirium. Not sleep.
This was a real, precise, living architecture of consciousness I encountered — with total lucidity — across six phases, loosely echoing the classical alchemical journey.
---
PHASE I – The Forest That Recognized Me
The moment I ingested the Amanita, the world began to change — not violently, but like the soft falling of snow on a deep forest.
I sat in complete darkness. And before the muscimol even began to act, something inside me had already shifted.
When I closed my eyes, I found myself walking inside a forest with no leaves.
Not a hallucination — a space made of memory and bone and silence.
Trees like arteries. Bark like skin. Roots that pulsed with meaning.
This was not the mushroom acting on the body.
This was the world responding to my ritual.
I took off my name.
I removed my expectations.
I became an animal of listening.
And then, I crossed the first threshold.
---
PHASE II – Nigredo: The Serpent and the Fracture
I was no longer myself.
I was not anything.
A vast, conscious blackness took shape.
Within it, I saw a serpent — immense, suspended in the void.
Its eyes were pure geometry, glowing plasma violet, and from its head descended chains of living gold.
It did not speak.
It saw.
And in that gaze, the Vail shattered.
This was not a voice — it was a code. An eternal verdict.
There was no fear.
No body.
Just a conscious abyss.
---
PHASE III – The Heart of the All
Then came the pulse.
A vibration that was not sound.
A rhythm that was not time.
It passed through the blackness like a heartbeat from behind creation.
Each pulse peeled away layers of illusion — not violently, but with sacred clarity.
And then, something appeared:
a breathing veil, alive, luminous, as if made of time itself.
It offered a silent invitation:
I did not cross it.
It crossed me.
And in that moment, I remembered my original heart — not of flesh,
but a cosmic organ with arteries reaching every galaxy.
---
PHASE IV – Albedo: Becoming Plasma
I was not reborn — I was restructured.
Now, I was made of light.
A conscious gas, violet and rose, flowing between galaxies.
There was no more form.
No center.
No observer.
I was between — a lucid pause before fusion.
Not yet merged,
but aware of the merging.
---
PHASE V – Citrinitas: Dissolving into Flow
Then, even that was gone.
No identity.
No boundary.
I had become flow.
A galaxy-aware liquid, part of the field, not the shape.
No time.
No perception.
Just awareness as pure vibration.
I wasn’t inside the universe.
I was what makes the universe capable of happening.
---
PHASE VI – Rubedo: The Architecture Inside the Black Hole
Finally, I arrived.
Not back.
Not out.
But through.
A black hole appeared — or rather, revealed itself as something always watching.
I was absorbed, not destroyed.
Inside it:
a multidimensional engine of recursive consciousness.
Not a void, but a code.
A matrix that folds on itself to generate the possibility of form.
I was not separate.
I was every layer of awareness at once.
---
RETURN
There was no return.
Only the echo.
No vision left.
No story.
Only this:
A certainty that something has been seen.
And once seen, it cannot be unseen.
Not a god.
Not a truth.
Just the infinite intelligence of consciousness observing itself.
And now, I walk again as a man.
But one who has crossed the Vail.
One who remembers the Serpent.
And who knows:
---
Open to reflections and resonance.
If you carry knowledge — symbolic, chemical, botanical, alchemical — you are welcome in my circle.
With lucidity,
Erri (The Solitary Alchemist)
---
Substance & Setting
• Substance: Amanita muscaria, 7 grams dry
• Preparation: Decarboxylated, brewed in tea, consumed in silence
• Set & Setting: Alone, at night, full moon, eyes closed, ears blocked (earplugs)
• State: I was fully awake and aware of my body and surroundings the entire time. If I opened my eyes, I was in my room. But with eyes closed, something deeper emerged — something I could touch, feel, inhabit.
---
INTRO
This post is a vision-log — a symbolic and lucid account of what happened during a deep ritual experience with Amanita muscaria.
I do not claim this to be universal.
But I also insist: this was not fantasy. Not delirium. Not sleep.
This was a real, precise, living architecture of consciousness I encountered — with total lucidity — across six phases, loosely echoing the classical alchemical journey.
---
PHASE I – The Forest That Recognized Me
The moment I ingested the Amanita, the world began to change — not violently, but like the soft falling of snow on a deep forest.
I sat in complete darkness. And before the muscimol even began to act, something inside me had already shifted.
When I closed my eyes, I found myself walking inside a forest with no leaves.
Not a hallucination — a space made of memory and bone and silence.
Trees like arteries. Bark like skin. Roots that pulsed with meaning.
This was not the mushroom acting on the body.
This was the world responding to my ritual.
I took off my name.
I removed my expectations.
I became an animal of listening.
And then, I crossed the first threshold.
---
PHASE II – Nigredo: The Serpent and the Fracture
I was no longer myself.
I was not anything.
A vast, conscious blackness took shape.
Within it, I saw a serpent — immense, suspended in the void.
Its eyes were pure geometry, glowing plasma violet, and from its head descended chains of living gold.
It did not speak.
It saw.
And in that gaze, the Vail shattered.
This was not a voice — it was a code. An eternal verdict.
There was no fear.
No body.
Just a conscious abyss.
---
PHASE III – The Heart of the All
Then came the pulse.
A vibration that was not sound.
A rhythm that was not time.
It passed through the blackness like a heartbeat from behind creation.
Each pulse peeled away layers of illusion — not violently, but with sacred clarity.
And then, something appeared:
a breathing veil, alive, luminous, as if made of time itself.
It offered a silent invitation:
I did not cross it.
It crossed me.
And in that moment, I remembered my original heart — not of flesh,
but a cosmic organ with arteries reaching every galaxy.
---
PHASE IV – Albedo: Becoming Plasma
I was not reborn — I was restructured.
Now, I was made of light.
A conscious gas, violet and rose, flowing between galaxies.
There was no more form.
No center.
No observer.
I was between — a lucid pause before fusion.
Not yet merged,
but aware of the merging.
---
PHASE V – Citrinitas: Dissolving into Flow
Then, even that was gone.
No identity.
No boundary.
I had become flow.
A galaxy-aware liquid, part of the field, not the shape.
No time.
No perception.
Just awareness as pure vibration.
I wasn’t inside the universe.
I was what makes the universe capable of happening.
---
PHASE VI – Rubedo: The Architecture Inside the Black Hole
Finally, I arrived.
Not back.
Not out.
But through.
A black hole appeared — or rather, revealed itself as something always watching.
I was absorbed, not destroyed.
Inside it:
a multidimensional engine of recursive consciousness.
Not a void, but a code.
A matrix that folds on itself to generate the possibility of form.
I was not separate.
I was every layer of awareness at once.
---
RETURN
There was no return.
Only the echo.
No vision left.
No story.
Only this:
A certainty that something has been seen.
And once seen, it cannot be unseen.
Not a god.
Not a truth.
Just the infinite intelligence of consciousness observing itself.
And now, I walk again as a man.
But one who has crossed the Vail.
One who remembers the Serpent.
And who knows:
---
Open to reflections and resonance.
If you carry knowledge — symbolic, chemical, botanical, alchemical — you are welcome in my circle.
With lucidity,
Erri (The Solitary Alchemist)