This is an account of the first psychedelic experience of my life, one which truly represents the beginning of the opening of my mind.
It was the evening of June 6, 1999, I had just taken my SAT II's that morning, and I was chilling at my friend M's house in a residential neighborhood near the center of town. While walking around aimlessly in the wonderful June weather, I randomly met up with my little brother B and his friend A. We went back to my friend M's, said whatup to him, chilled there for a bit, and then took a stroll around the neighborhood. My brother asked me if I wanted to smoke some pot with him and A, I said "yes," and we climbed up a tree and smoked a joint of dank kine bud. Upon taking his first hit, my brother said, "That really brings it back." I asked him what he was talking about, and he told me that he and A were coming down off shrooms. This piqued my interest, for I had been thinking about trying shrooms since three weeks earlier, when my good friend C tried shrooms for his first time and told me how great they were.
Let me interrupt my story here to give you a little background on my situation at the time. Until my junior year of high school, I was hard-core straight edge and believed all the government's bullshit propaganda. Over my junior year of high school, however, I had come to realize, upon being confronted with examples in my friends, that alcohol and drug use did not make somebody a "loser" and that it was OK in moderation. I began my experimentation by getting drunk on April Fools day 1999, and I found the experience quite enjoyable. I got stoned for my first time three weeks later on 4/20, and found that enjoyable as well. Before the fateful day of this report, I had smoked another 5 or so times.
I asked my brother if I should do shroooms, as I had been thinking about it since my friend C told me of his first trip. He told me to go for it as long as I could find somebody trustworthy with whom to trip. I knew my brother had gotten the mushrooms from my friend M, so we went back to his place and I bought an eighth of blue caps (psilocybe cubensis). Soon after, it being around 8 o clock in the evening, I decided to walk into town to get some food. Who should I meet walking down the road but my friend C and another friend D? I flashed them the shrooms that I had just bought and they immediately asked me if I wanted to split it with them. On the spur of the moment, I agreed, "Why the fuck not?" We bought some orange juice because my friend knew of its catalytic powers, and then walked into the woods and split the eighth three ways. I licked the bag. It was around 8:15 in the evening and twilight was quickly fading.
I was totally unprepared for what I was about to experience over the next couple of hours, as I had done NO research on mushrooms besides hearing my brother and A talk about it. Doing any drug without previously researching it is STUPID, as psychoactive substances can spring surprises on you even if you DO know what you are getting into. Even weed can cause freak-outs that are bad enough to eliminate subsequent enjoyment of its effects (it's happened to at least 3 of my friends). I had NO IDEA of the quantitative and qualitative aspects of the mushroom trip, ignorantly assuming it to be qualitatively like a cannabis high. Ironically enough, at the time, I had not even experienced the full hallucinogenic force of marijuana, as I was not yet fully attuned and acclimated to its effects.
After eating the mushrooms, we got a pizza to calm our rumbling stomachs, as we were all extremely hungry. We sat down on benches that lined the wide brick sidewalk of the main street in town. While we were finishing our meal, C asked me if I was "feeling anything yet." I replied that the contrast between light and shadow seemed to be greater, but it was so subtle that it could be due to either the placebo effect or the weed I had smoked 2 hours earlier. As I was throwing the pizza box away, my brother and A reappeared. We started talking, I informed them that C, D and I had split the eighth, and they wished me good luck on my travels. Somehow my brother and D got into a big debate over interpersonal communication, with my brother, still experiencing residuals from his shrooms, trying to convince D how easy it was to communicate on a deep level with other people by diplomatically responding to what they said. D did not agree, saying that people throw up too many fronts to be trusted simply on the basis of what they say. I agreed with D. Little did I know that my own fronts would be exposed and torn down later that night.
C arranged us a ride to the house of his friend E, whose parents were throwing her a graduation party. On the ride over, D and I became very giggly as the mushrooms started to take effect. I looked at the digital clock in the car, and it said 9:12. We had been 99% sober when we left the center of town, but by the time we arrived at the party we were definitely starting to trip.
There were 20-30 people at the party. I was acquainted with almost all of them but I was only friends with a few. A bunch of people were playing volleyball in the middle of the backyard, and there were a couple tables set up on one side of the house's deck. I tried to join in and became very disoriented when the ball came flying toward me. Nonetheless, I still managed to hit it back over the net and then promptly bowed out of the game.
At this point, I began to experience an extremely
pleasant body high that continued to intensify for the next two hours. My whole body tingled with life, my sense of touch was enhanced, and I would spontaneously make strange undulations with my body because they felt REALLY good. My hand-eye coordination was also thrown off, even though I was not having visuals. In addition, I had the classic tripping-smile on my face, and as the night wore on it only got bigger. Due to my trip-smile, my strange body movements, and my spacey demeanor, it was quite obvious to many people that I was fucked up. I would attempt to join in conversations but would usually end up spacing out and just listening to the other people talk.
At one point C and I retreated to a bench at the back of the backyard to observe the party. D, who is a big, burly guy, was having a blast lifting girls up, spinning them around, piggybacking them, etc. C and I shared our observations of the party. I remarked that we had just faded into the background. To my surprise, C hunched forward on the bench, whipped out his dick and began to piss. I voiced my shock, and C told me, “like you said, we’re in the background, and if I’m chill about this, nobody will notice.” And indeed, nobody did.
My friend S arrived, I appraised him of my current situation, and then asked for some trip tips. Eventually two kids who were not particularly fond of me began talking derogatorily about me as if I was not there, as they assumed I was too far gone to comprehend what they were saying. I was a straight A student all through high school, and in my freshman and sophomore years I had a very obnoxious and haughty attitude towards those I considered to be less intelligent than I. These kids went into a long tirade about people who think they are the king of the world because of their academic performance both inside and outside the classroom. Then they went on to detail my naïveté to many worldly things and my general social ineptitude. S joined in the conversation, though he seemed to be acting less maliciously than the other two. Whenever S wants to say negative things about a person whom he assumes to be inept at taking hints (which I often am), he does it in a very particular manner. This experience marked the time when I first recognized his method of not-so subtle circumlocution and how often I had encountered it and not realized. I did not say anything to the group of people who were trash talking about me because I did not want to get into a confrontation, and for the first time I truly understood where they were coming from. I was able to see their side of the story so clearly that I felt powerless to object. Nonetheless, there was still some resistance on my part. Looking back, I see this as one of the major formative stepping stones that allowed me to better relate to people. It really was an eye-opening experience.
At some point, C, D, another acquaintance F and I decided that we wanted to smoke some weed. We went down the street and sparked up, smoking about a gram of dank but not chemmy indoor out of my first eighth that I had bought on 4/20. I didn’t feel the effects that strongly as I was sauntering back to the party with my friends. Suddenly, I needed to take a piss, so I excused myself and walked into the house, where I had never been before, and asked the girl’s parents where the bathroom was. In retrospect, they must have known that I was on something, as I am pretty sure, judging from my interactions with my peers, that I did not hide my trippingness very well, even from adults. I then walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. By this time, the weed had definitely kicked in. I was so fucked up that I could not find the light switch, and the idea of opening the door to shed more light on the matter did not occur to me. I gave up and decided to piss in the dark. I whipped it out and thought that I started to piss. Actually, I was merely starting to have tactile hallucinations that made me unable to distinguish between wet and dry. This seems to be an idiosyncratic effect that mushrooms have on me, as I have experienced it in almost every subsequent mushroom trip. I realized that I could not see where I was pissing, and then proceeded to freak out. I was certain that I had pissed myself. I felt my pants and felt the floor, unable to tell whether they were actually wet. Assuming the worst, I concluded that the floor was indeed swimming in my piss. Panicking, I grabbed a towel and wiped the floor. Then I realized that I needed to piss again, so I bent right over the toilet, so that there was no way that I could possibly miss the bowl, and this time I really did piss. As soon as I was done I ran out to find C and tell him of the disaster that had just occurred. He was very sympathetic when I told him I had pissed all over myself and the bathroom, but he said that my pants were not wet at all. He even smelled my crotch, and to my surprise, he told me that my pants did not smell of urine. Upon a more carefulinspection, I concluded the same. Then, he went inside and checked out the bathroom. Returning quickly, he reported that there was no sign of any misdirected piss and that I had hallucinated the whole disaster.
Freed of worry, I then decided to retreat off to a corner of the front yard near the road and chill out for a bit. As I turned my attention to my environment, I began to see purple flecks in the grass. I looked at the road and the larger pebbles in the asphalt seemed to rise up and take on a purplish color. When I sat down, the purple rock flecks began to resolve into a pattern. Other rocks in the asphalt took on different colors, embellishing the pattern. At first it was just swirling fractals, which was pretty cool in itself. Then the fractals began to resolve into something with more structure. As I watched in amazement, a city of stepped pyramids emerged out of the asphalt below my eyes. Even more amazingly, this city was alive! There were people and animals bustling through the roads, merchants hawking their wares in markets, craftsmen plying their trades, warriors drilling and practicing, preists conducting rituals in the temples, every type of activity that comprised a Mesoamerican civilization. Moreover, I somehow knew that mushrooms were a sacrament to this civilization. Because of my complete ignorance of mushrooms at the time, I had no idea that they had been used as sacraments by native cultures in the Americas. This leads me to believe, in retrospect, that I was connecting with an ancient repository of common experience, for I can find no other way to explain what happened. To this day, that vision, the culmination of my first real visuals ever, remains one of my most favorite moments in a psychedelic experience.
My attention was eventually broken after what seemed to be an eternity, but was probably more like a minute or two. Looking up, I saw C looking down at me and asking if I was OK. I emphatically replied yes, and that I was having “crazy hallucinations.” I looked at a tree and the tip of each branch seemed to be laden with luscious grapelike fruit. Looking back down at the asphalt, I found that I could make patterns in it if I concentrated, but the city did not reemerge. I walked around aimlessly for a while, just gaping in awe at the beauty of my mundane surroundings. The party was dying down, as it was a little past midnight, and C decided to motivate D and I to find a ride home, which we shortly did with none other than the girl E whose graduation party it was. We said goodbye to everybody as best we could and then busted out. I noticed that most of the people who knew I was fucked up had turned out to view my intoxication with bemusement rather than derisiveness. Even E held nothing against me for being fucked up in front of her parents, saying I really had not been that obvious about it.
After we dropped off D, I expressed reservations about going home because I was still tripping hard enough to be having visuals. It was almost 1 o'clock, but C kindly told me I could stay over at his place, and I accepted the offer with relief.
When we got to C's house I once again saw luscious grapelike fruits hanging from all the trees in his yard, and the grass was such a vibrant shade of green! I told C I wanted to chill outside for a bit and enjoy the wonderful environment, and he obliged me yet again. I suddenly felt the urge to take a piss, and started to freak out again. I went over next to a tree and asked C if I was really pissing. He said no. Then, still paranoid from the bathroom experience at E’s place, I asked him if it would be OK if I kept my pants half-down so that I would not be impeded if I suddenly had the urge. Laughing good-naturedly, he said OK. We sat on the asphalt and rehashed the trips of our trio of psychonauts. The asphalt in the road was once again forming wonderful earthy patterns with the distinct flavor of traditional Mesoamerican tapestries. The urge to piss came over me again and again I went over to the tree by the road. C confirmed that this time I really was pissing. I thanked him profusely for his patience with me, making him smile. After I had finished, I sat back down beside him and for a while we just enjoyed the silence, reveling in the moment. Suddenly, I noticed a small neon-green worm inching its way across the road. It was literally fluorescent. Enthralled, I watched it work its way along, arching its little body like a wave in order to locomote. I could not believe my eyes, and I asked C if it was just a figment of my imagination. C said he saw it too, that it was definitely real. I wondered at the beautiful simplicity of the worm, which was not decreased at all by the fact that it was a mindless…well…worm. The patterns on the road centered on it and slowly rotated around it, framing its motion.
After the worm had finished crossing the road, C decided it was time to go inside and go to bed, as he was fully down and beginning to pass out. By this time the intensity of my trip had diminished somewhat, and we set up a bed in his room. His dad woke up and asked C why he was home so late, at 4 AM, when he had to work the next day. C calmly explained that he and I had been on a late-night walk, and that I was staying over. I was kind of freaked out, but C looked at me reassuringly and I managed to say hi and exchange pleasantries with his dad. C set up his spare bed for me, I laid down, and became captivated by the spinning ceiling fan right above my head. I commented on it and C kindly asked me to shut up so he could sleep because he had to do yard work early in the morning the next day. I volunteered to help him in return for putting up with my tripping vagaries. I amused myself by staring at the ceiling fan until I passed out after about half an hour.
I would wake up three times during the night to shit as the mushrooms passed out of my digestive system. At 7:30, we were awakened by C’s dad. For some strange reason, I felt strangely refreshed even though I should have been dead tired from sleeping fitfully for less than 4 hours. True to my promise, I helped C with all the yard work he had to do the next day.
In conclusion, this trip really opened my mind and prompted me to continue my psychedelic explorations. I am thankful that, considering my ignorance of the drug, the trip turned out so well and set the tone for future trips to come. I can only hope all my friends have a first psychedelic experience as good as this one was. Happy tripping everyone!
[ 24 July 2002: Message edited by: 5HT-2 ]
[Changed title from "mushrooms (1.25 g) --- First Trip Ever" to fit the forum guidelines]
[ 25 July 2002: Message edited by: Splatt ]
It was the evening of June 6, 1999, I had just taken my SAT II's that morning, and I was chilling at my friend M's house in a residential neighborhood near the center of town. While walking around aimlessly in the wonderful June weather, I randomly met up with my little brother B and his friend A. We went back to my friend M's, said whatup to him, chilled there for a bit, and then took a stroll around the neighborhood. My brother asked me if I wanted to smoke some pot with him and A, I said "yes," and we climbed up a tree and smoked a joint of dank kine bud. Upon taking his first hit, my brother said, "That really brings it back." I asked him what he was talking about, and he told me that he and A were coming down off shrooms. This piqued my interest, for I had been thinking about trying shrooms since three weeks earlier, when my good friend C tried shrooms for his first time and told me how great they were.
Let me interrupt my story here to give you a little background on my situation at the time. Until my junior year of high school, I was hard-core straight edge and believed all the government's bullshit propaganda. Over my junior year of high school, however, I had come to realize, upon being confronted with examples in my friends, that alcohol and drug use did not make somebody a "loser" and that it was OK in moderation. I began my experimentation by getting drunk on April Fools day 1999, and I found the experience quite enjoyable. I got stoned for my first time three weeks later on 4/20, and found that enjoyable as well. Before the fateful day of this report, I had smoked another 5 or so times.
I asked my brother if I should do shroooms, as I had been thinking about it since my friend C told me of his first trip. He told me to go for it as long as I could find somebody trustworthy with whom to trip. I knew my brother had gotten the mushrooms from my friend M, so we went back to his place and I bought an eighth of blue caps (psilocybe cubensis). Soon after, it being around 8 o clock in the evening, I decided to walk into town to get some food. Who should I meet walking down the road but my friend C and another friend D? I flashed them the shrooms that I had just bought and they immediately asked me if I wanted to split it with them. On the spur of the moment, I agreed, "Why the fuck not?" We bought some orange juice because my friend knew of its catalytic powers, and then walked into the woods and split the eighth three ways. I licked the bag. It was around 8:15 in the evening and twilight was quickly fading.
I was totally unprepared for what I was about to experience over the next couple of hours, as I had done NO research on mushrooms besides hearing my brother and A talk about it. Doing any drug without previously researching it is STUPID, as psychoactive substances can spring surprises on you even if you DO know what you are getting into. Even weed can cause freak-outs that are bad enough to eliminate subsequent enjoyment of its effects (it's happened to at least 3 of my friends). I had NO IDEA of the quantitative and qualitative aspects of the mushroom trip, ignorantly assuming it to be qualitatively like a cannabis high. Ironically enough, at the time, I had not even experienced the full hallucinogenic force of marijuana, as I was not yet fully attuned and acclimated to its effects.
After eating the mushrooms, we got a pizza to calm our rumbling stomachs, as we were all extremely hungry. We sat down on benches that lined the wide brick sidewalk of the main street in town. While we were finishing our meal, C asked me if I was "feeling anything yet." I replied that the contrast between light and shadow seemed to be greater, but it was so subtle that it could be due to either the placebo effect or the weed I had smoked 2 hours earlier. As I was throwing the pizza box away, my brother and A reappeared. We started talking, I informed them that C, D and I had split the eighth, and they wished me good luck on my travels. Somehow my brother and D got into a big debate over interpersonal communication, with my brother, still experiencing residuals from his shrooms, trying to convince D how easy it was to communicate on a deep level with other people by diplomatically responding to what they said. D did not agree, saying that people throw up too many fronts to be trusted simply on the basis of what they say. I agreed with D. Little did I know that my own fronts would be exposed and torn down later that night.
C arranged us a ride to the house of his friend E, whose parents were throwing her a graduation party. On the ride over, D and I became very giggly as the mushrooms started to take effect. I looked at the digital clock in the car, and it said 9:12. We had been 99% sober when we left the center of town, but by the time we arrived at the party we were definitely starting to trip.
There were 20-30 people at the party. I was acquainted with almost all of them but I was only friends with a few. A bunch of people were playing volleyball in the middle of the backyard, and there were a couple tables set up on one side of the house's deck. I tried to join in and became very disoriented when the ball came flying toward me. Nonetheless, I still managed to hit it back over the net and then promptly bowed out of the game.
At this point, I began to experience an extremely
pleasant body high that continued to intensify for the next two hours. My whole body tingled with life, my sense of touch was enhanced, and I would spontaneously make strange undulations with my body because they felt REALLY good. My hand-eye coordination was also thrown off, even though I was not having visuals. In addition, I had the classic tripping-smile on my face, and as the night wore on it only got bigger. Due to my trip-smile, my strange body movements, and my spacey demeanor, it was quite obvious to many people that I was fucked up. I would attempt to join in conversations but would usually end up spacing out and just listening to the other people talk.
At one point C and I retreated to a bench at the back of the backyard to observe the party. D, who is a big, burly guy, was having a blast lifting girls up, spinning them around, piggybacking them, etc. C and I shared our observations of the party. I remarked that we had just faded into the background. To my surprise, C hunched forward on the bench, whipped out his dick and began to piss. I voiced my shock, and C told me, “like you said, we’re in the background, and if I’m chill about this, nobody will notice.” And indeed, nobody did.
My friend S arrived, I appraised him of my current situation, and then asked for some trip tips. Eventually two kids who were not particularly fond of me began talking derogatorily about me as if I was not there, as they assumed I was too far gone to comprehend what they were saying. I was a straight A student all through high school, and in my freshman and sophomore years I had a very obnoxious and haughty attitude towards those I considered to be less intelligent than I. These kids went into a long tirade about people who think they are the king of the world because of their academic performance both inside and outside the classroom. Then they went on to detail my naïveté to many worldly things and my general social ineptitude. S joined in the conversation, though he seemed to be acting less maliciously than the other two. Whenever S wants to say negative things about a person whom he assumes to be inept at taking hints (which I often am), he does it in a very particular manner. This experience marked the time when I first recognized his method of not-so subtle circumlocution and how often I had encountered it and not realized. I did not say anything to the group of people who were trash talking about me because I did not want to get into a confrontation, and for the first time I truly understood where they were coming from. I was able to see their side of the story so clearly that I felt powerless to object. Nonetheless, there was still some resistance on my part. Looking back, I see this as one of the major formative stepping stones that allowed me to better relate to people. It really was an eye-opening experience.
At some point, C, D, another acquaintance F and I decided that we wanted to smoke some weed. We went down the street and sparked up, smoking about a gram of dank but not chemmy indoor out of my first eighth that I had bought on 4/20. I didn’t feel the effects that strongly as I was sauntering back to the party with my friends. Suddenly, I needed to take a piss, so I excused myself and walked into the house, where I had never been before, and asked the girl’s parents where the bathroom was. In retrospect, they must have known that I was on something, as I am pretty sure, judging from my interactions with my peers, that I did not hide my trippingness very well, even from adults. I then walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. By this time, the weed had definitely kicked in. I was so fucked up that I could not find the light switch, and the idea of opening the door to shed more light on the matter did not occur to me. I gave up and decided to piss in the dark. I whipped it out and thought that I started to piss. Actually, I was merely starting to have tactile hallucinations that made me unable to distinguish between wet and dry. This seems to be an idiosyncratic effect that mushrooms have on me, as I have experienced it in almost every subsequent mushroom trip. I realized that I could not see where I was pissing, and then proceeded to freak out. I was certain that I had pissed myself. I felt my pants and felt the floor, unable to tell whether they were actually wet. Assuming the worst, I concluded that the floor was indeed swimming in my piss. Panicking, I grabbed a towel and wiped the floor. Then I realized that I needed to piss again, so I bent right over the toilet, so that there was no way that I could possibly miss the bowl, and this time I really did piss. As soon as I was done I ran out to find C and tell him of the disaster that had just occurred. He was very sympathetic when I told him I had pissed all over myself and the bathroom, but he said that my pants were not wet at all. He even smelled my crotch, and to my surprise, he told me that my pants did not smell of urine. Upon a more carefulinspection, I concluded the same. Then, he went inside and checked out the bathroom. Returning quickly, he reported that there was no sign of any misdirected piss and that I had hallucinated the whole disaster.
Freed of worry, I then decided to retreat off to a corner of the front yard near the road and chill out for a bit. As I turned my attention to my environment, I began to see purple flecks in the grass. I looked at the road and the larger pebbles in the asphalt seemed to rise up and take on a purplish color. When I sat down, the purple rock flecks began to resolve into a pattern. Other rocks in the asphalt took on different colors, embellishing the pattern. At first it was just swirling fractals, which was pretty cool in itself. Then the fractals began to resolve into something with more structure. As I watched in amazement, a city of stepped pyramids emerged out of the asphalt below my eyes. Even more amazingly, this city was alive! There were people and animals bustling through the roads, merchants hawking their wares in markets, craftsmen plying their trades, warriors drilling and practicing, preists conducting rituals in the temples, every type of activity that comprised a Mesoamerican civilization. Moreover, I somehow knew that mushrooms were a sacrament to this civilization. Because of my complete ignorance of mushrooms at the time, I had no idea that they had been used as sacraments by native cultures in the Americas. This leads me to believe, in retrospect, that I was connecting with an ancient repository of common experience, for I can find no other way to explain what happened. To this day, that vision, the culmination of my first real visuals ever, remains one of my most favorite moments in a psychedelic experience.
My attention was eventually broken after what seemed to be an eternity, but was probably more like a minute or two. Looking up, I saw C looking down at me and asking if I was OK. I emphatically replied yes, and that I was having “crazy hallucinations.” I looked at a tree and the tip of each branch seemed to be laden with luscious grapelike fruit. Looking back down at the asphalt, I found that I could make patterns in it if I concentrated, but the city did not reemerge. I walked around aimlessly for a while, just gaping in awe at the beauty of my mundane surroundings. The party was dying down, as it was a little past midnight, and C decided to motivate D and I to find a ride home, which we shortly did with none other than the girl E whose graduation party it was. We said goodbye to everybody as best we could and then busted out. I noticed that most of the people who knew I was fucked up had turned out to view my intoxication with bemusement rather than derisiveness. Even E held nothing against me for being fucked up in front of her parents, saying I really had not been that obvious about it.
After we dropped off D, I expressed reservations about going home because I was still tripping hard enough to be having visuals. It was almost 1 o'clock, but C kindly told me I could stay over at his place, and I accepted the offer with relief.
When we got to C's house I once again saw luscious grapelike fruits hanging from all the trees in his yard, and the grass was such a vibrant shade of green! I told C I wanted to chill outside for a bit and enjoy the wonderful environment, and he obliged me yet again. I suddenly felt the urge to take a piss, and started to freak out again. I went over next to a tree and asked C if I was really pissing. He said no. Then, still paranoid from the bathroom experience at E’s place, I asked him if it would be OK if I kept my pants half-down so that I would not be impeded if I suddenly had the urge. Laughing good-naturedly, he said OK. We sat on the asphalt and rehashed the trips of our trio of psychonauts. The asphalt in the road was once again forming wonderful earthy patterns with the distinct flavor of traditional Mesoamerican tapestries. The urge to piss came over me again and again I went over to the tree by the road. C confirmed that this time I really was pissing. I thanked him profusely for his patience with me, making him smile. After I had finished, I sat back down beside him and for a while we just enjoyed the silence, reveling in the moment. Suddenly, I noticed a small neon-green worm inching its way across the road. It was literally fluorescent. Enthralled, I watched it work its way along, arching its little body like a wave in order to locomote. I could not believe my eyes, and I asked C if it was just a figment of my imagination. C said he saw it too, that it was definitely real. I wondered at the beautiful simplicity of the worm, which was not decreased at all by the fact that it was a mindless…well…worm. The patterns on the road centered on it and slowly rotated around it, framing its motion.
After the worm had finished crossing the road, C decided it was time to go inside and go to bed, as he was fully down and beginning to pass out. By this time the intensity of my trip had diminished somewhat, and we set up a bed in his room. His dad woke up and asked C why he was home so late, at 4 AM, when he had to work the next day. C calmly explained that he and I had been on a late-night walk, and that I was staying over. I was kind of freaked out, but C looked at me reassuringly and I managed to say hi and exchange pleasantries with his dad. C set up his spare bed for me, I laid down, and became captivated by the spinning ceiling fan right above my head. I commented on it and C kindly asked me to shut up so he could sleep because he had to do yard work early in the morning the next day. I volunteered to help him in return for putting up with my tripping vagaries. I amused myself by staring at the ceiling fan until I passed out after about half an hour.
I would wake up three times during the night to shit as the mushrooms passed out of my digestive system. At 7:30, we were awakened by C’s dad. For some strange reason, I felt strangely refreshed even though I should have been dead tired from sleeping fitfully for less than 4 hours. True to my promise, I helped C with all the yard work he had to do the next day.
In conclusion, this trip really opened my mind and prompted me to continue my psychedelic explorations. I am thankful that, considering my ignorance of the drug, the trip turned out so well and set the tone for future trips to come. I can only hope all my friends have a first psychedelic experience as good as this one was. Happy tripping everyone!
[ 24 July 2002: Message edited by: 5HT-2 ]
[Changed title from "mushrooms (1.25 g) --- First Trip Ever" to fit the forum guidelines]
[ 25 July 2002: Message edited by: Splatt ]
