Changed
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Sep 19, 2006
- Messages
- 2,974
6/9/10
10pm - Brewed and drank a cup of decaf green tea with a chunk of ginger. An hour ago I drank 3 cups of strong espresso roast coffee. Dinner was (an irresponsibly large) two vegetarian tacos around 7:30pm. I shouldn't have eaten two, but I spent the day reading (a grueling and physically taxing activity), so I felt I earned them. I brewed the 1/8th of a cup of San Pedro juice yesterday. Roughly 5 inches of slightly withered cactus- the lowest dose I have tried so far (previously ingested ~8, 10, and 12 inches, chronologically). With experience does NOT come wisdom: if it did, I'd have learned that the awful smell and taste of this juice is enough reason not to consume once again. And with that, I take 1/6th of the goo into my mouth and swallow. Tastes even worse than I remember it. Must get a chaser.
10:09pm - Orange juice does little to mask the bitterness. Half gone.
10:20pm - Only one gulp left. OJ to Mescaline consumption ratio: 10:1
10:30pm - All gone, now we wait...
10:43pm - Not feeling anything yet... Gonna take a hot shower
11:24pm - Slowly starting to feel the energy pulse through me. Things are taking on a green and red tinge. The room is breathing. The Blackhawks win the Cup.
11:34pm - Upbeat techno pulses through the headphones. Feeling a great energy throughout my body. Not overwhelming, but just the right amount. Perpetual smile on my face, and sweaty feet. Seeing humor in everything. Even that sentence.
12:26am - Certainly feeling it. Arms and hands don't feel as if they belong to me. Hands type words like a spider's arms reaching for its next step. Eyes see what the brain is thinking with the hands.
...
Come down from plateau ~4am
Next day observations:
This dosage was right in between what I'd call a 'social dose' and a full-blown 'psychedelic dose.' About 4.5 inches of slightly withered San Pedro. I drank a pot of coffee an hour before the trip, and ate an average sized meal beforehand. The meal may have accounted for the relatively long 'come-up.' Minor CEV's during the plateau. Curiously, I had more sight-based shifts in reality with my eye's open. I hadn't heard of the 'breathing room' effect until I read about it yesterday: curiously, that effect presented itself in full force during this trip. Taking a piss (I think I urinated 5+ times because of the coffee + ginger tea + orange juice + perhaps mescaline is a diuretic?) I saw the toilet and the floor waving slightly. Then, the asbestos floor with irregular patterns started breathing.
The most pronounced and obvious indication that you're in the throws of a mescaline trip is the disappearance of the physical body from perception. When I shifted weight in my chair during BBC's Life, likely a reaction to the komodo dragon eating the water buffalo, I noticed that there was a hand on my arm. It wasn't really my hand, but a hand in general. Waving my hands in my face later was required to remember again that I was (or appear to be) in this physical body. I think the most obviously thing to glean from this is: the psychedelic trip returns the mind and body to its intended state-- that is, a oneness with everything. The physical body merges with the land and air; the mind oozes into the collective consciousness, making it susceptible to terrifyingly radical and beautiful thoughts.
At one point during the peak of the trip I began to slip into a potentially deep hole. I have been doing a lot of research of the structure of the universe-- its sheer vastness overwhelms me when sober. I considered the entire question of my insignificance in the universe in a matter of seconds and began to feel myself slipping into a negative void. I turned the music off, jumped on the computer and started listening to a GoogleTalk on meditation and neuroscience. This grounded me quickly and took my mind off the impended panic and depression. I think if I had taken a higher dose, those question which have been running through my head would have manifested themselves in a much less forgiving manner, and would have had me spiraling down a scary thought loop.
The prevailing theme of the trip was the unity of the universe and the need to never be anything but happy and positive. Meditation is the prime means for producing this happiness, and I hope to get back into a regular schedule starting today. I realized the damage I've probably been doing to my body by drinking alcohol. I have vowed to quit drinking before after mescaline, but never followed through-- it seems impossible to interact on a human level as a college (grad) student without the presence of alcohol. I went further and thought: why is it that we drink with others? I came to the conclusion that the alcohol doesn't matter: we get drunk so that we feel comfortable enough to reveal our true selves, our uninhibited, passionate selves, to others in the same state. Really, we (I) don't get drunk to make stupid decisions that we can later blame on alcohol: it is more of a coping mechanism for our overarching insecurity. Much like the mescaline trip: by drinking the brew of this beautiful cactus, you shed all the subconscious protective layers of your self in order to allow the universe to re-enter. Once you've transcended the artificial barriers you place between your skin/mind and the rest of the universe, you are free to realize the true nature of not yourself, but the entire vastness of this Thing.
Overall, the dosage was slightly more than I would feel comfortable with in a social setting. On the other hand, my last large dose (12 inches) did a weird thing: it suppressed the psychedelic effects of the trip (for 2 hours) while I was in a one on one conversational setting with my sober friend. Directly after my friend went to bed and I was alone with my headphones and a dark room, a major psychedelic wave surged over my mind and body, rendering me a peon in the vastness of color, sight, sound, and emotion. I posit that if I had been in a social setting on this smaller dose, I would have been able to converse normally- that is, better than normally. I guess this is a direct reflection of the validity of the term 'set and setting'...
The only perception that seems to be altered the day after is sound: this funky jazz on the radio is really something to behold. Colors are subdued (a gloomy, cold, and rainy day), flavors seem normal. I feel upbeat and more reassured than ever that life is a beautiful thing, meant to be squeezed dry of all its wonders, and meditated upon frequently. Living consciously goes hand in hand with the mescaline trip, and I look forward to future experiences in consciousness explosion, both in the lotus position and in the cactus pose.
10pm - Brewed and drank a cup of decaf green tea with a chunk of ginger. An hour ago I drank 3 cups of strong espresso roast coffee. Dinner was (an irresponsibly large) two vegetarian tacos around 7:30pm. I shouldn't have eaten two, but I spent the day reading (a grueling and physically taxing activity), so I felt I earned them. I brewed the 1/8th of a cup of San Pedro juice yesterday. Roughly 5 inches of slightly withered cactus- the lowest dose I have tried so far (previously ingested ~8, 10, and 12 inches, chronologically). With experience does NOT come wisdom: if it did, I'd have learned that the awful smell and taste of this juice is enough reason not to consume once again. And with that, I take 1/6th of the goo into my mouth and swallow. Tastes even worse than I remember it. Must get a chaser.
10:09pm - Orange juice does little to mask the bitterness. Half gone.
10:20pm - Only one gulp left. OJ to Mescaline consumption ratio: 10:1
10:30pm - All gone, now we wait...
10:43pm - Not feeling anything yet... Gonna take a hot shower
11:24pm - Slowly starting to feel the energy pulse through me. Things are taking on a green and red tinge. The room is breathing. The Blackhawks win the Cup.
11:34pm - Upbeat techno pulses through the headphones. Feeling a great energy throughout my body. Not overwhelming, but just the right amount. Perpetual smile on my face, and sweaty feet. Seeing humor in everything. Even that sentence.
12:26am - Certainly feeling it. Arms and hands don't feel as if they belong to me. Hands type words like a spider's arms reaching for its next step. Eyes see what the brain is thinking with the hands.
...
Come down from plateau ~4am
Next day observations:
This dosage was right in between what I'd call a 'social dose' and a full-blown 'psychedelic dose.' About 4.5 inches of slightly withered San Pedro. I drank a pot of coffee an hour before the trip, and ate an average sized meal beforehand. The meal may have accounted for the relatively long 'come-up.' Minor CEV's during the plateau. Curiously, I had more sight-based shifts in reality with my eye's open. I hadn't heard of the 'breathing room' effect until I read about it yesterday: curiously, that effect presented itself in full force during this trip. Taking a piss (I think I urinated 5+ times because of the coffee + ginger tea + orange juice + perhaps mescaline is a diuretic?) I saw the toilet and the floor waving slightly. Then, the asbestos floor with irregular patterns started breathing.
The most pronounced and obvious indication that you're in the throws of a mescaline trip is the disappearance of the physical body from perception. When I shifted weight in my chair during BBC's Life, likely a reaction to the komodo dragon eating the water buffalo, I noticed that there was a hand on my arm. It wasn't really my hand, but a hand in general. Waving my hands in my face later was required to remember again that I was (or appear to be) in this physical body. I think the most obviously thing to glean from this is: the psychedelic trip returns the mind and body to its intended state-- that is, a oneness with everything. The physical body merges with the land and air; the mind oozes into the collective consciousness, making it susceptible to terrifyingly radical and beautiful thoughts.
At one point during the peak of the trip I began to slip into a potentially deep hole. I have been doing a lot of research of the structure of the universe-- its sheer vastness overwhelms me when sober. I considered the entire question of my insignificance in the universe in a matter of seconds and began to feel myself slipping into a negative void. I turned the music off, jumped on the computer and started listening to a GoogleTalk on meditation and neuroscience. This grounded me quickly and took my mind off the impended panic and depression. I think if I had taken a higher dose, those question which have been running through my head would have manifested themselves in a much less forgiving manner, and would have had me spiraling down a scary thought loop.
The prevailing theme of the trip was the unity of the universe and the need to never be anything but happy and positive. Meditation is the prime means for producing this happiness, and I hope to get back into a regular schedule starting today. I realized the damage I've probably been doing to my body by drinking alcohol. I have vowed to quit drinking before after mescaline, but never followed through-- it seems impossible to interact on a human level as a college (grad) student without the presence of alcohol. I went further and thought: why is it that we drink with others? I came to the conclusion that the alcohol doesn't matter: we get drunk so that we feel comfortable enough to reveal our true selves, our uninhibited, passionate selves, to others in the same state. Really, we (I) don't get drunk to make stupid decisions that we can later blame on alcohol: it is more of a coping mechanism for our overarching insecurity. Much like the mescaline trip: by drinking the brew of this beautiful cactus, you shed all the subconscious protective layers of your self in order to allow the universe to re-enter. Once you've transcended the artificial barriers you place between your skin/mind and the rest of the universe, you are free to realize the true nature of not yourself, but the entire vastness of this Thing.
Overall, the dosage was slightly more than I would feel comfortable with in a social setting. On the other hand, my last large dose (12 inches) did a weird thing: it suppressed the psychedelic effects of the trip (for 2 hours) while I was in a one on one conversational setting with my sober friend. Directly after my friend went to bed and I was alone with my headphones and a dark room, a major psychedelic wave surged over my mind and body, rendering me a peon in the vastness of color, sight, sound, and emotion. I posit that if I had been in a social setting on this smaller dose, I would have been able to converse normally- that is, better than normally. I guess this is a direct reflection of the validity of the term 'set and setting'...
The only perception that seems to be altered the day after is sound: this funky jazz on the radio is really something to behold. Colors are subdued (a gloomy, cold, and rainy day), flavors seem normal. I feel upbeat and more reassured than ever that life is a beautiful thing, meant to be squeezed dry of all its wonders, and meditated upon frequently. Living consciously goes hand in hand with the mescaline trip, and I look forward to future experiences in consciousness explosion, both in the lotus position and in the cactus pose.
Last edited:
