theghostofbillhicks
Bluelighter
It was a Saturday night and I was relaxing in a London Pizzeria with two of my best friends. Exhausted from a Friday night of cocaine and methylone, we were not in the mood for London’s clubland. We decided to stay in together, maybe watch a video. I suggested we drink some mushroom tea. How wise a suggestion this was, I still don’t know.
One of my friends is as seasoned a tripper as I am, but my other, smaller-sized friend- well, he’s best described as an enthusiastic newbie to the altered world of psychedelia. We sat and drunk the mushy tea infront of a darkly comic Brass Eye DVD.
+10 minutes.
The first pangs of a mushroom alert were upon us. Mixtures of upward spiralling laughter and unspoken panic rose as smoke from our psyches. Richard, the drug newbie, began laughing hysterically- his body clenching spasmodically as one big muscle displaying the unnerving contractions of One Who Is Laughing Too Hard. I suggested we turn off the DVD and go for a walk. I've found digital media to be an enemy of psychedelia.
+20 minutes.
The streets of North London were tightly cold but alive in the darkness. Blossoms bursting from the spring trees were a constant enjoyment, the panels of glowing bark resplendant, and the deep majesty of the entwined branches began to fill the three of us with a special kind of wonder. We stood and truly gasped and gaped at the brilliance of nature's form. We were noticing the booming cracks in the pavement, where plants and roots were bursting through the deadened cement. We headed to Primrose Hill, a parkland overlooking London’s glowing sprawl.
+45 minutes-1 hour
Sitting under a tree, looking out over the Mordor-like hell that is London Town, we realised that the sky was a far more beautific picture. We gazed, flipping between silent awe and jubilation at the vast glory of space. Riotous laughter kept erupting from silence, a belly laugh chorus which kept fading into wet-eyed ecstasy, which in turn kept fading into delicious silence and enjoined spirit. Richard, the psychedelic apprentice, was being bothered by his runny nose. We made the mistake of visiting a nearby corner shop.
+1 hour-2 hours
The three of us were in the ungodly lumination of a shop. One shopkeeper was standing, suspicious, behind us, while the shopkeeper stood awkward and staring from up behind the counter. We knew we wanted only tissues, but each time one of us launched into an explanation, the devilment of hysterical laughter grabbed up from our guts screwing our collective bodies into a fit of unnerving, crying hysteria.
We couldn’t breathe and the giggling was beginning to hurt; we were crying with tears. Eventually Richard pointed at the tissues behind the desk. I felt so awful that I began putting pennies in their charity box to show them that, actually, we were Nice People. The whole thing suddenly seemed just too ridiculous, and another huge wave of crying laughter took me overl; I staggered, bleeding with tears, out of the doorway and onto the street where I felt as if I were vomiting up rivers of pure unadulterated laughter.
Back inside, Rich was left alone as Dan, my other friend, had joined me. We were trying to catch our breath, watching Richard crease up and bend double in the horror-light of the shop, as the unsmiling clerks looked on- sombre as reapers. Rich finally pulled out a £50 pound note to pay for the 50p pack of tissues, and this comic moment sent him over the edge. The moment the shopkeeper poured the bucket-worth of change into his open hands, he staggered out, purple of face, hands held aloft, brimming with notes and change. He fell upon both knees in a fit of hysteria. Dan and I were now streaming with laughing tears as we tried to drag Richard -and his change and tissues -from the doorway. We received the oddest looks. We didn't care. We retreated to Richards’ flat.
+3hours.
Mushroom tea has the benefit of a shortened trip length, and so we spent the tail end of the experience watching Richard’s art nouveaux paintings blend and curl while discussing yoga and the I-Ching. There were more small pockets of laughter and we soon were able to sleep after some sweet Mary Jane. A wonderful experience. Laughter is a cosmic balm, but invoke it at your peril.
One of my friends is as seasoned a tripper as I am, but my other, smaller-sized friend- well, he’s best described as an enthusiastic newbie to the altered world of psychedelia. We sat and drunk the mushy tea infront of a darkly comic Brass Eye DVD.
+10 minutes.
The first pangs of a mushroom alert were upon us. Mixtures of upward spiralling laughter and unspoken panic rose as smoke from our psyches. Richard, the drug newbie, began laughing hysterically- his body clenching spasmodically as one big muscle displaying the unnerving contractions of One Who Is Laughing Too Hard. I suggested we turn off the DVD and go for a walk. I've found digital media to be an enemy of psychedelia.
+20 minutes.
The streets of North London were tightly cold but alive in the darkness. Blossoms bursting from the spring trees were a constant enjoyment, the panels of glowing bark resplendant, and the deep majesty of the entwined branches began to fill the three of us with a special kind of wonder. We stood and truly gasped and gaped at the brilliance of nature's form. We were noticing the booming cracks in the pavement, where plants and roots were bursting through the deadened cement. We headed to Primrose Hill, a parkland overlooking London’s glowing sprawl.
+45 minutes-1 hour
Sitting under a tree, looking out over the Mordor-like hell that is London Town, we realised that the sky was a far more beautific picture. We gazed, flipping between silent awe and jubilation at the vast glory of space. Riotous laughter kept erupting from silence, a belly laugh chorus which kept fading into wet-eyed ecstasy, which in turn kept fading into delicious silence and enjoined spirit. Richard, the psychedelic apprentice, was being bothered by his runny nose. We made the mistake of visiting a nearby corner shop.
+1 hour-2 hours
The three of us were in the ungodly lumination of a shop. One shopkeeper was standing, suspicious, behind us, while the shopkeeper stood awkward and staring from up behind the counter. We knew we wanted only tissues, but each time one of us launched into an explanation, the devilment of hysterical laughter grabbed up from our guts screwing our collective bodies into a fit of unnerving, crying hysteria.
We couldn’t breathe and the giggling was beginning to hurt; we were crying with tears. Eventually Richard pointed at the tissues behind the desk. I felt so awful that I began putting pennies in their charity box to show them that, actually, we were Nice People. The whole thing suddenly seemed just too ridiculous, and another huge wave of crying laughter took me overl; I staggered, bleeding with tears, out of the doorway and onto the street where I felt as if I were vomiting up rivers of pure unadulterated laughter.
Back inside, Rich was left alone as Dan, my other friend, had joined me. We were trying to catch our breath, watching Richard crease up and bend double in the horror-light of the shop, as the unsmiling clerks looked on- sombre as reapers. Rich finally pulled out a £50 pound note to pay for the 50p pack of tissues, and this comic moment sent him over the edge. The moment the shopkeeper poured the bucket-worth of change into his open hands, he staggered out, purple of face, hands held aloft, brimming with notes and change. He fell upon both knees in a fit of hysteria. Dan and I were now streaming with laughing tears as we tried to drag Richard -and his change and tissues -from the doorway. We received the oddest looks. We didn't care. We retreated to Richards’ flat.
+3hours.
Mushroom tea has the benefit of a shortened trip length, and so we spent the tail end of the experience watching Richard’s art nouveaux paintings blend and curl while discussing yoga and the I-Ching. There were more small pockets of laughter and we soon were able to sleep after some sweet Mary Jane. A wonderful experience. Laughter is a cosmic balm, but invoke it at your peril.
