Psychedelics_r_best
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 16, 2004
- Messages
- 2,049
Well, this was my third time doing DMT, smoked through such a typical pipe as could be used. Unfortunately, and perhaps to the alarm of some people here, I ahd not much else to measure out the dose besides one of those very small chemical scoopers. There was already significant residue buildup within the pipe from the last two times I attempted smoking it. Well, I took approximately eigth scoops from this scooper and shovled them into my glass pipe. Please, if anyone is going to, stave your denouncing of my methods. DMT's toxicity is so low that it would probably be impossible to inhale enough within short enough a time to die. I am not endorsing this method however, because you may be in for quite a lot that you may not want to be in for. I, however, am not too concerned as to what I may experience.
Sadly, however, I am not sure I can say I broke through. I heated the bottom of the glass until smoke started to rise and I took a long slow drag until I could inhale no more. I held this in as long as I could and took another long slow drag, which I held in again, as long as I could. There was very little substance left in the pipe but a small thin sheet of liquid residue remianing at the apex of the bulbs bottom. By the time I exhaled my first hit I was already feeling the rush. By the time I exhaled the second the world was already becoming the product of strange geometries and my glass pipe turned into a greenish cyrstalized object. Fortunately, my friend sitting next to me was able to take it from me, or else I would have dropped it and burned my work uniform.
Every sound and reverberation of air began to amplify in magnitude. The sound of the fabric of my shirt sliding against the wood of the chair as I sank under the pressure, a truck driving through the parking lot near by, the cars on the road, the wind rustling in the leaves, almost instantly formulated into a single massive pulsating noise as if I could hear the vibrating of every subatomic particle in the universe traveling at some uncalculable speed past my ear with the expansion of the universe. I was rather lost. I look, weighed down, at what was once the reconisable contours of my body. My black clothing was no longer that, but fields of strange shapes of smooth back colors, infinite, like tar or oil seeping over some painting of Eschers, across and up and inverted in strange spacial dimensions in a puddle as I looked down. My hand was of broken clay, crumbled and warped, bulging in places with green bubbles. My friends face was no longer much discernable either, a strange picture out of focus with eyes, mouths, and hair enumerated in every angle I looked from, again with strange geometries, seperating, deconstructing, and reforming her face. Everything else was of the same countenance, strange, warped, unrecognisable.
The first thing I could remember saying after what seemed like an eternity was, "what time is it", still being bombarded by the unpending cracking of the universe and strange visuals. My being was the product of some paradox, impossible to be straigtened by the human mind. I had to be at work at four, and she answered three forty seven, I had inhaled those hits about three minutes ago. I was still lost in these paradoxes and strange geometries when I asked what time it was again. It was three forty eight, and this proceeded until the time of about three fifty four, when I was able to finally move and view the world from a different position, overlooking the grass and trees in the residential neighborhood from where I had been sitting in a chair.
At about three fifty seven I was able to gather myself and my supplies and walk to my car, although the body high was still quite apparent and the three dimensions which I could percieve ocassionally oscilatting. I was able to drive to work with competance and no trouble, through the street lights appeared as eyes, as well as all the other car's brake lights, creating a rather odd little scene. I got to work slightly late and had a little trouble finding my clocking in card, as well as some other minor orientational issues, but soon, things were all well.
It was overall rather intense, and a little scary as I had no conception of much at all within the peak. I look forward to venturing out again though, and hopefully a little further.
Sadly, however, I am not sure I can say I broke through. I heated the bottom of the glass until smoke started to rise and I took a long slow drag until I could inhale no more. I held this in as long as I could and took another long slow drag, which I held in again, as long as I could. There was very little substance left in the pipe but a small thin sheet of liquid residue remianing at the apex of the bulbs bottom. By the time I exhaled my first hit I was already feeling the rush. By the time I exhaled the second the world was already becoming the product of strange geometries and my glass pipe turned into a greenish cyrstalized object. Fortunately, my friend sitting next to me was able to take it from me, or else I would have dropped it and burned my work uniform.
Every sound and reverberation of air began to amplify in magnitude. The sound of the fabric of my shirt sliding against the wood of the chair as I sank under the pressure, a truck driving through the parking lot near by, the cars on the road, the wind rustling in the leaves, almost instantly formulated into a single massive pulsating noise as if I could hear the vibrating of every subatomic particle in the universe traveling at some uncalculable speed past my ear with the expansion of the universe. I was rather lost. I look, weighed down, at what was once the reconisable contours of my body. My black clothing was no longer that, but fields of strange shapes of smooth back colors, infinite, like tar or oil seeping over some painting of Eschers, across and up and inverted in strange spacial dimensions in a puddle as I looked down. My hand was of broken clay, crumbled and warped, bulging in places with green bubbles. My friends face was no longer much discernable either, a strange picture out of focus with eyes, mouths, and hair enumerated in every angle I looked from, again with strange geometries, seperating, deconstructing, and reforming her face. Everything else was of the same countenance, strange, warped, unrecognisable.
The first thing I could remember saying after what seemed like an eternity was, "what time is it", still being bombarded by the unpending cracking of the universe and strange visuals. My being was the product of some paradox, impossible to be straigtened by the human mind. I had to be at work at four, and she answered three forty seven, I had inhaled those hits about three minutes ago. I was still lost in these paradoxes and strange geometries when I asked what time it was again. It was three forty eight, and this proceeded until the time of about three fifty four, when I was able to finally move and view the world from a different position, overlooking the grass and trees in the residential neighborhood from where I had been sitting in a chair.
At about three fifty seven I was able to gather myself and my supplies and walk to my car, although the body high was still quite apparent and the three dimensions which I could percieve ocassionally oscilatting. I was able to drive to work with competance and no trouble, through the street lights appeared as eyes, as well as all the other car's brake lights, creating a rather odd little scene. I got to work slightly late and had a little trouble finding my clocking in card, as well as some other minor orientational issues, but soon, things were all well.
It was overall rather intense, and a little scary as I had no conception of much at all within the peak. I look forward to venturing out again though, and hopefully a little further.
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