Debaucherous
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Oct 7, 2011
- Messages
- 19
Newly finished blog post about my first trip.. *snip*
Forgive the pre-amble, You can skip the first 3 paragraphs if you want to read just the report itself, they're just for a bit of context.
The First and Worst and the Advent of Space Nuggets
A few years ago I dove headfirst into an experience which I'll describe as the beginning of the end of my conventional morality and philosophy. Eating about 9 grams of dried psilocybe cubensis.
A little context:
I have a tendency to rebel against popular culture. Through my growing up I quit hockey, took up trampoline because I thought it was cool. I played saxophone because everyone else played guitar. I was a hardcore Christian, because nobody else was. I lost my virginity at 19, because everyone else lost it at 15. I rebelled not against the ropes and constraints that most people do, but rebelled against popular behavior, trying to imprint myself as unique in the mind of others, but probably deep down just knowing no-one really gave a shit; I was trying to find a different path to gain a sense of superiority? To validate my own sense of uniqueness? I'm not too sure but it still persists.
Forward after a couple years of tending bar when all my friends went directly into university; I was still heavily involved in the church, making some moderately decent coin, and trying to find answers to the greatest questions organized religion could offer. With enough prodding from family, plus a conveniently placed breakup and slight gambling problem, left me at a bit of a standstill in my direction in life. I realized I had no significant ties to the city I was in, and my frustration with some of the grand questions that plague a young religious nut (suffering vs god, redemption based around blind luck, a God that seemed cruel and terrible, yet had a son and it took his edge off entirely? The fact that I wanted to have sex with everything and get drunk once in a while vs the constant guilt I was supposed to feel based around the urges), I figured some higher education in a religious institution would help get me back on track and answer every problem that life could ever throw at me.
Didn't work worth shit:
In a place where everyone was straight edge, so much so that staying up past midnight drinking pop, eating chips, and throwing on the occasional Disney movie was (I'm being serious) a consistent and fun Friday night for some of these indoctrinated saps. There was the occasional foray into a house party or pub, but even getting the girls drunk wouldn't lead to coitus, I think there were probably 100 people who weren't virgins in the University of 900, and perhaps 8 of them were attractive. So my rebellious self validating mindset kicked in and I found myself fighting self righteously against now being straight edge; I got some dreadlocks, pierced my face, and started a steady diet of substance abuse. I started smoking weed rather religiously (ironic I know), and did my best to never really attend the mandatory church services. I started realizing my professors had no answers to my grand questions (or merely I couldn't accept them because everyone else did).
We smoked weed daily, I got barred from having girls in my room because "I was dangerous" when they saw a naked girl in the window at 3 am in my room (another story for another time). To help slippery slope propaganda our little rebellious faction decided we needed to foray into better substance so we coordinated a mushrooms trip up in a cabin up north.
Being an avid smoker of weed, and since I could smoke until my brain hurt then smoke some more, I figured my high tolerance of being awesome would entail me to eat far more than my cohorts when it came to mowing down on some bad tasting fungus. Since they said 4grams was going to be a heavy dose, I figured that must be the equivalent of smoking a blunt. Therefore a quick mental process plus an inherent desire to outdo my fellow trippers brought me to a nice round number of 7 grams plus eating the other 2grams my pussy friend didn't want to eat... for a grand total of 9 grams of dried psilocybe cubensis for my first foray out of the world of weed. I remember a nervous energy vibrating through me and waves of euphoria flowed through me.
Then shit went downhill.... quickly
As to be expected. I lost my mind
Reality seized to exist I lost all touch with any audio and visual stimulus, I was in a fully dissociated trip, a high pitched electric screaming sound filled my ears (imagine the sound when someone gets plugged into the matrix). I couldn't see, I kept trying to claw myself out of the intense fractal blackness (I know it seems bizarre but it makes sense) that enveloped my vision. I was lying on a bed yelling and managed to somehow gain back my sight for a few seconds, I saw my hands above my face which had turned completely into purple tentacles that were squirming and flopping out of my control. I puked violently on the wall. All of a sudden my body temperature was completely out of control; I was hot, too hot to handle, I ran outside into the still partially snow covered ground.
I ripped off all my clothing. I rolled around naked in the leaves, dirt and snow, rubbing it all over my body. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, "call a fucking ambulance, I'm dying". I knew at that moment it was the end of my life. I signed off on everything I knew, my life, my family, friends everything was over. It's a strange feeling, knowing with 100% certainty that your parents will read about your untimely death in the wilderness experimenting with drugs with some other students from a Christian university. I was feeling shame, insanity, and fear beyond anything I'd ever felt in my life, I was dead, this was it, it was my time.
I'm unsure what compelled most of my actions, but while rolling about the grass and leaves, i proceeded to shove 2 fistfulls of rotting vegetation into my mouth (maybe in an attempt to make me puke?). Then started to run to the still partially frozen lake. Once I got close to it I began to feel all the snow and ice that was around on my bare skin and tried to run back inside. My friends said "come this way, we got you help! just over here", I naked humped my friends leg on the way (I think out of gratitude) and they led me onto the patio. I looked around for the help that wasn't there, they threw me a sleeping bag, then locked me by myself onto the covered patio.
There was no fucking way I was going to crawl into some giant tube monster thing for warmth (mushrooms + sleeping bags is a no go). So I stood outside shivering naked tapping on the window for my comrades to let me in. I was going in and out of flashes of reality, vibrating from the cold, and seeing mostly the same fractal blackness through my vision. I started to get agitated and started pounding on the door, still no luck, deciding that warmth needed to happen now (from walking around naked in the snow I think). So I began to try and break down the door. After hearing a solid CRACK from the door frame, my 6' tall martial arts trained asshole of a best friend stood up... shook his head at me... and started stomping towards me. My eyes lit up with fear and I backed up slowly, knowing something rather intense was imminent. He ripped open the door and unloaded with a full right hook to my unguarded jaw. I was immediately on my ass, but the punch managed to straighted me out somewhat. I grabbed the sleeping bag and started crawling towards the door, a shivering punched out naked sight to behold. After some deliberating they decided I was rather harmless, and allowed me to crawl into the house holding the sleeping bag. "Why the fuck are you still naked?" I was queried. I responded with "where the fuck are my clothes? Find them, I'll put them on, if not, deal with it." Apparently they were more lazy than homophobe, or more homo than lazy, regardless I remained naked for the next 4 hours, spooning a sleeping bag and muttering random words loudly. POKEMON, SHIT!, ASS, HIPPO, FUCK WHAT SHIT, SPACE NUGGETS, YELLOW, FUCK FUCK! This continued for a decent amount of time until I had came down enough to find my clothes and get my shit straightened out. (Mushrooms are now called space nuggets, I yelled it a few dozen times that night).
On the comedown we decided we needed to light of the $120.00 worth of fireworks I had purchased about 8 hours earlier. We went to the beach and lit one up..... and that's when we realized none of us knew how to use a firework. It began sparking, and we threw it and ran behind a sand dune. The most sober one of us decided he would go pick up the end that wasn't shooting off the shiny light balls so we could enjoy the experience a little more fully. Once this golden nugget of wisdom was obtained we lit off fireworks for an hour or so... got drunk.. smoked the 14 partially smoked blunts we left everywhere, and talked about what a fucking maniac I was.
I was never looked at in quite the same regard after having dry humped my friend's leg while naked, and broke down his door. Apparently I wasn't the only one losing their mind... my one friend was convinced I had died, so spent 2 hours crying by himself in bed... and apparently also peed himself we later found out. The friend that had punched me out apparently was conversing with me while I was yelling out tourettes like phrases, he found it all very logical and somehow conversed with me for those couple hours. We also found out our one friend remained sober the whole time.... he hasn't ever tried mushrooms, and has no intention of doing so.
After an experience like that.. I did what any logical person would do. Make sure I get back on that horse.... so I ate 4g of dried mushrooms the next weekend with a girl I knew. We stumbled around the park... I didn't go crazy... and had a pretty decent time. So the moral of the story is... get back on that fucking horse regardless of how bad your trip was... because unless you or someone you know died... mine was probably worse.
Once I was sure of death, I found that it was easier to live. If you've written off everything, then having anything is incredible. Once you've known the fear of certain doom (atleast perceived) I haven't really been scared of much since.
Anyone else got bad trip stories?
*snip*
Forgive the pre-amble, You can skip the first 3 paragraphs if you want to read just the report itself, they're just for a bit of context.
The First and Worst and the Advent of Space Nuggets
A few years ago I dove headfirst into an experience which I'll describe as the beginning of the end of my conventional morality and philosophy. Eating about 9 grams of dried psilocybe cubensis.
A little context:
I have a tendency to rebel against popular culture. Through my growing up I quit hockey, took up trampoline because I thought it was cool. I played saxophone because everyone else played guitar. I was a hardcore Christian, because nobody else was. I lost my virginity at 19, because everyone else lost it at 15. I rebelled not against the ropes and constraints that most people do, but rebelled against popular behavior, trying to imprint myself as unique in the mind of others, but probably deep down just knowing no-one really gave a shit; I was trying to find a different path to gain a sense of superiority? To validate my own sense of uniqueness? I'm not too sure but it still persists.
Forward after a couple years of tending bar when all my friends went directly into university; I was still heavily involved in the church, making some moderately decent coin, and trying to find answers to the greatest questions organized religion could offer. With enough prodding from family, plus a conveniently placed breakup and slight gambling problem, left me at a bit of a standstill in my direction in life. I realized I had no significant ties to the city I was in, and my frustration with some of the grand questions that plague a young religious nut (suffering vs god, redemption based around blind luck, a God that seemed cruel and terrible, yet had a son and it took his edge off entirely? The fact that I wanted to have sex with everything and get drunk once in a while vs the constant guilt I was supposed to feel based around the urges), I figured some higher education in a religious institution would help get me back on track and answer every problem that life could ever throw at me.
Didn't work worth shit:
In a place where everyone was straight edge, so much so that staying up past midnight drinking pop, eating chips, and throwing on the occasional Disney movie was (I'm being serious) a consistent and fun Friday night for some of these indoctrinated saps. There was the occasional foray into a house party or pub, but even getting the girls drunk wouldn't lead to coitus, I think there were probably 100 people who weren't virgins in the University of 900, and perhaps 8 of them were attractive. So my rebellious self validating mindset kicked in and I found myself fighting self righteously against now being straight edge; I got some dreadlocks, pierced my face, and started a steady diet of substance abuse. I started smoking weed rather religiously (ironic I know), and did my best to never really attend the mandatory church services. I started realizing my professors had no answers to my grand questions (or merely I couldn't accept them because everyone else did).
We smoked weed daily, I got barred from having girls in my room because "I was dangerous" when they saw a naked girl in the window at 3 am in my room (another story for another time). To help slippery slope propaganda our little rebellious faction decided we needed to foray into better substance so we coordinated a mushrooms trip up in a cabin up north.
Being an avid smoker of weed, and since I could smoke until my brain hurt then smoke some more, I figured my high tolerance of being awesome would entail me to eat far more than my cohorts when it came to mowing down on some bad tasting fungus. Since they said 4grams was going to be a heavy dose, I figured that must be the equivalent of smoking a blunt. Therefore a quick mental process plus an inherent desire to outdo my fellow trippers brought me to a nice round number of 7 grams plus eating the other 2grams my pussy friend didn't want to eat... for a grand total of 9 grams of dried psilocybe cubensis for my first foray out of the world of weed. I remember a nervous energy vibrating through me and waves of euphoria flowed through me.
Then shit went downhill.... quickly
As to be expected. I lost my mind
Reality seized to exist I lost all touch with any audio and visual stimulus, I was in a fully dissociated trip, a high pitched electric screaming sound filled my ears (imagine the sound when someone gets plugged into the matrix). I couldn't see, I kept trying to claw myself out of the intense fractal blackness (I know it seems bizarre but it makes sense) that enveloped my vision. I was lying on a bed yelling and managed to somehow gain back my sight for a few seconds, I saw my hands above my face which had turned completely into purple tentacles that were squirming and flopping out of my control. I puked violently on the wall. All of a sudden my body temperature was completely out of control; I was hot, too hot to handle, I ran outside into the still partially snow covered ground.
I ripped off all my clothing. I rolled around naked in the leaves, dirt and snow, rubbing it all over my body. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, "call a fucking ambulance, I'm dying". I knew at that moment it was the end of my life. I signed off on everything I knew, my life, my family, friends everything was over. It's a strange feeling, knowing with 100% certainty that your parents will read about your untimely death in the wilderness experimenting with drugs with some other students from a Christian university. I was feeling shame, insanity, and fear beyond anything I'd ever felt in my life, I was dead, this was it, it was my time.
I'm unsure what compelled most of my actions, but while rolling about the grass and leaves, i proceeded to shove 2 fistfulls of rotting vegetation into my mouth (maybe in an attempt to make me puke?). Then started to run to the still partially frozen lake. Once I got close to it I began to feel all the snow and ice that was around on my bare skin and tried to run back inside. My friends said "come this way, we got you help! just over here", I naked humped my friends leg on the way (I think out of gratitude) and they led me onto the patio. I looked around for the help that wasn't there, they threw me a sleeping bag, then locked me by myself onto the covered patio.
There was no fucking way I was going to crawl into some giant tube monster thing for warmth (mushrooms + sleeping bags is a no go). So I stood outside shivering naked tapping on the window for my comrades to let me in. I was going in and out of flashes of reality, vibrating from the cold, and seeing mostly the same fractal blackness through my vision. I started to get agitated and started pounding on the door, still no luck, deciding that warmth needed to happen now (from walking around naked in the snow I think). So I began to try and break down the door. After hearing a solid CRACK from the door frame, my 6' tall martial arts trained asshole of a best friend stood up... shook his head at me... and started stomping towards me. My eyes lit up with fear and I backed up slowly, knowing something rather intense was imminent. He ripped open the door and unloaded with a full right hook to my unguarded jaw. I was immediately on my ass, but the punch managed to straighted me out somewhat. I grabbed the sleeping bag and started crawling towards the door, a shivering punched out naked sight to behold. After some deliberating they decided I was rather harmless, and allowed me to crawl into the house holding the sleeping bag. "Why the fuck are you still naked?" I was queried. I responded with "where the fuck are my clothes? Find them, I'll put them on, if not, deal with it." Apparently they were more lazy than homophobe, or more homo than lazy, regardless I remained naked for the next 4 hours, spooning a sleeping bag and muttering random words loudly. POKEMON, SHIT!, ASS, HIPPO, FUCK WHAT SHIT, SPACE NUGGETS, YELLOW, FUCK FUCK! This continued for a decent amount of time until I had came down enough to find my clothes and get my shit straightened out. (Mushrooms are now called space nuggets, I yelled it a few dozen times that night).
On the comedown we decided we needed to light of the $120.00 worth of fireworks I had purchased about 8 hours earlier. We went to the beach and lit one up..... and that's when we realized none of us knew how to use a firework. It began sparking, and we threw it and ran behind a sand dune. The most sober one of us decided he would go pick up the end that wasn't shooting off the shiny light balls so we could enjoy the experience a little more fully. Once this golden nugget of wisdom was obtained we lit off fireworks for an hour or so... got drunk.. smoked the 14 partially smoked blunts we left everywhere, and talked about what a fucking maniac I was.
I was never looked at in quite the same regard after having dry humped my friend's leg while naked, and broke down his door. Apparently I wasn't the only one losing their mind... my one friend was convinced I had died, so spent 2 hours crying by himself in bed... and apparently also peed himself we later found out. The friend that had punched me out apparently was conversing with me while I was yelling out tourettes like phrases, he found it all very logical and somehow conversed with me for those couple hours. We also found out our one friend remained sober the whole time.... he hasn't ever tried mushrooms, and has no intention of doing so.
After an experience like that.. I did what any logical person would do. Make sure I get back on that horse.... so I ate 4g of dried mushrooms the next weekend with a girl I knew. We stumbled around the park... I didn't go crazy... and had a pretty decent time. So the moral of the story is... get back on that fucking horse regardless of how bad your trip was... because unless you or someone you know died... mine was probably worse.
Once I was sure of death, I found that it was easier to live. If you've written off everything, then having anything is incredible. Once you've known the fear of certain doom (atleast perceived) I haven't really been scared of much since.
Anyone else got bad trip stories?
*snip*
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