Aidan of TCC
Bluelighter
Another old report, 2.5 years old.
The other day some friends of mine were considering taking acid, and I decided to tripsit for them, take some xanax, have some beer, and generally relax. It got to be about 9pm and they were unsure if they wanted to trip so late, so they decided to take 1mg of xanax and have a few drinks to make up their mind.
Let me just mention that taking xanax to assist in any decision making process is not a good idea. Of course they ended up taking their hits.
10pm rolls around and I decide to down 1.5mg of xanax and a few gin and tonics.
11pm comes and I'm feeling good, relaxed. My friends are tripping well and enjoying themselves, and I'm starting to get jealous. With a stroke of genius I dropped a hit onto my tongue and had another 0.5mg of xanax and another gin and tonic. Did I mention that making decisions on xanax is never a good idea?
Now would be a good time to explain that taking xanax to come down from acid and taking acid while really fucked up on xanax and alcohol are two entirely different experiences. I don't remember much that happened until around 4-5AM when suddenly I decided I needed another mg of xanax and 2 more hits of acid. That's when things got interesting.
Suddenly, everything looked very strange...
I was confused, this wasn't like acid. Slowly it came to me...it felt like a Salvia trip. I was looking at my friend's face, but I wasn't seeing her face. All I saw was lumps of molecules laying against eachother. Gravity was especially noticable, and I saw everything as matter laying against itself, as I often do on salvia.
The only way I can explain it is like this: If you say one word over and over without pausing, eventually your brain disassociates it with the linguistic meaning and it becomes an alien sound--what a foreigner hears, sound without a meaning attached. That's how matter looked. I knew I was seeing familiar objects, but there was no subconscious connection with meaning.
Dualism
The thought crept into my mind. I was seeing a new perspective that my eyes had been closed to before. I was seeing the world from the eyes of the inanimate: the salvia world. I was touching my friend's foot but I couldn't tell if it were actually a foot, or something else. It seemed alien and alive--not as a living organism--but as matter. Reaching for my hand, pulling it, not letting me retract my fingers.
In a flash, gravity made sense to me. It was a force from the other perspective, the inanimate perspective. Gravity was the social force of the inanimate, pulling matter together just as people are drawn to eachother. Black holes were the dinner parties of the inanimate. I felt the pull of a dozen gravities, beckoning me to come closer, to bring my matter close to theirs.
Papperclips are cockroaches, I decided. Succesful...entities, I suppose. A highly succesful model, constantly in reproduction, never hard to find. Chairs are succesful clumps of matter as well, quite prolific. I wondered how many species of chair their might be. The inanimate world was just as important as the animate world, teaming with just as much "life" and populated by just as many entities. Two worlds, coexisting, and largely unaware of eachother. Except we feel their pull-gravity. What force of ours must they feel?
I looked into my friends eyes and grew afraid. Her face shifted and morphed from female to male and back again, unlessly. I was looking at myself. Yet it was not me...she was the yin to the yang...a mirror image. I tested this thought, slowly opening my mouth to a smile. Her mouth moved in unison. I frowned slightly--her face darkened immediately. She asked me what I was thinking, and I tried to speak, but I couldn't force out the words in my head. "You are me!" I whispered, but it was unintelligible.
A few minutes later she said, "I know what you're thinking." Could she knew? Did she understand that we were the same person? The barrier against those three words remained. She asked if I'd come with her while she smoked a cigarette. I experimented again, fooling with my shoelaces while she buttoned her coat, looking down. I wasted a fair amount of time, finished tying my shoes, and looked up to see her manuever the last button. Exactly the same, but different.
I stood on the porch silently while she smoked. It was cold but I was sweating and enjoying it. She put out her cigarette. I stared straight ahead in silence. One minute. Two. I knew neither of us would pass back through the door without the other. I lost track of time, neither of us had spoken a word. I turned to open the door and she followed at my side.
I looked at her morphing face again. I could predict its every action by knowing my own. She mirrored me in every way. Suddenly I realized that if she were the same as me, then I must know everything about her. What did that imply? Would she be boring now, entirely demystified? I grew afraid again; could she predict me just as easily? Was I boring? If she was me, and I could predict everything she did, perhaps she was a mere figment of my imagination? Had I gone crazy from all the drugs? Had my mental faculties abandoned me?
My head swam with questions, but it was past dawn now and most of the night's guests had left. I stumbled to bed, confused and half convinced I had gone insane. I awoke 9 hours later, decidedly nervous. I logged on to AIM and messaged one of my friends who had been there the night before.
"Did you meet my friend last night?"
"You mean Liz? Yeah I met her."
"Then she's real?"
"Yeah..."
"Thanks, that's relieving."
The other day some friends of mine were considering taking acid, and I decided to tripsit for them, take some xanax, have some beer, and generally relax. It got to be about 9pm and they were unsure if they wanted to trip so late, so they decided to take 1mg of xanax and have a few drinks to make up their mind.
Let me just mention that taking xanax to assist in any decision making process is not a good idea. Of course they ended up taking their hits.
10pm rolls around and I decide to down 1.5mg of xanax and a few gin and tonics.
11pm comes and I'm feeling good, relaxed. My friends are tripping well and enjoying themselves, and I'm starting to get jealous. With a stroke of genius I dropped a hit onto my tongue and had another 0.5mg of xanax and another gin and tonic. Did I mention that making decisions on xanax is never a good idea?
Now would be a good time to explain that taking xanax to come down from acid and taking acid while really fucked up on xanax and alcohol are two entirely different experiences. I don't remember much that happened until around 4-5AM when suddenly I decided I needed another mg of xanax and 2 more hits of acid. That's when things got interesting.
Suddenly, everything looked very strange...
I was confused, this wasn't like acid. Slowly it came to me...it felt like a Salvia trip. I was looking at my friend's face, but I wasn't seeing her face. All I saw was lumps of molecules laying against eachother. Gravity was especially noticable, and I saw everything as matter laying against itself, as I often do on salvia.
The only way I can explain it is like this: If you say one word over and over without pausing, eventually your brain disassociates it with the linguistic meaning and it becomes an alien sound--what a foreigner hears, sound without a meaning attached. That's how matter looked. I knew I was seeing familiar objects, but there was no subconscious connection with meaning.
Dualism
The thought crept into my mind. I was seeing a new perspective that my eyes had been closed to before. I was seeing the world from the eyes of the inanimate: the salvia world. I was touching my friend's foot but I couldn't tell if it were actually a foot, or something else. It seemed alien and alive--not as a living organism--but as matter. Reaching for my hand, pulling it, not letting me retract my fingers.
In a flash, gravity made sense to me. It was a force from the other perspective, the inanimate perspective. Gravity was the social force of the inanimate, pulling matter together just as people are drawn to eachother. Black holes were the dinner parties of the inanimate. I felt the pull of a dozen gravities, beckoning me to come closer, to bring my matter close to theirs.
Papperclips are cockroaches, I decided. Succesful...entities, I suppose. A highly succesful model, constantly in reproduction, never hard to find. Chairs are succesful clumps of matter as well, quite prolific. I wondered how many species of chair their might be. The inanimate world was just as important as the animate world, teaming with just as much "life" and populated by just as many entities. Two worlds, coexisting, and largely unaware of eachother. Except we feel their pull-gravity. What force of ours must they feel?
I looked into my friends eyes and grew afraid. Her face shifted and morphed from female to male and back again, unlessly. I was looking at myself. Yet it was not me...she was the yin to the yang...a mirror image. I tested this thought, slowly opening my mouth to a smile. Her mouth moved in unison. I frowned slightly--her face darkened immediately. She asked me what I was thinking, and I tried to speak, but I couldn't force out the words in my head. "You are me!" I whispered, but it was unintelligible.
A few minutes later she said, "I know what you're thinking." Could she knew? Did she understand that we were the same person? The barrier against those three words remained. She asked if I'd come with her while she smoked a cigarette. I experimented again, fooling with my shoelaces while she buttoned her coat, looking down. I wasted a fair amount of time, finished tying my shoes, and looked up to see her manuever the last button. Exactly the same, but different.
I stood on the porch silently while she smoked. It was cold but I was sweating and enjoying it. She put out her cigarette. I stared straight ahead in silence. One minute. Two. I knew neither of us would pass back through the door without the other. I lost track of time, neither of us had spoken a word. I turned to open the door and she followed at my side.
I looked at her morphing face again. I could predict its every action by knowing my own. She mirrored me in every way. Suddenly I realized that if she were the same as me, then I must know everything about her. What did that imply? Would she be boring now, entirely demystified? I grew afraid again; could she predict me just as easily? Was I boring? If she was me, and I could predict everything she did, perhaps she was a mere figment of my imagination? Had I gone crazy from all the drugs? Had my mental faculties abandoned me?
My head swam with questions, but it was past dawn now and most of the night's guests had left. I stumbled to bed, confused and half convinced I had gone insane. I awoke 9 hours later, decidedly nervous. I logged on to AIM and messaged one of my friends who had been there the night before.
"Did you meet my friend last night?"
"You mean Liz? Yeah I met her."
"Then she's real?"
"Yeah..."
"Thanks, that's relieving."
