egor
Bluelighter
Let me start off by saying I have been putting off writing this experience up for a long time. There are many reasons for me doing so. There was so much for me to take in and ponder after it was done. I truly feel that this trip changed my perception of life more than any other I have ever had. It will be very hard to put the nature of this experience into words. It is also a very deep and emotional subject. I did not even tell my best friends about it for months afterward. I now think it is the time to tell others about it.
A little background, I was not abused as a child. I was never beaten. I am also not all that fond of children. This was my ultimate lesson about the importance of set and setting, and how something (major though it may be) in the background can really affect the outcome of a psychedelic experience.
The night started out like many others during this period of my life. I ingested 35mg of 2c-e and was settling in for an interesting solo night at home. I spent the come-up of the trip watching adult swim, nothing too deep early on in a high dose solo trip. I should say I am far more comfortable with high dose solo trips with phenethylamines than tryptamines. It was about 1 hour after dosing that the effects really began to manifest themselves. Time had seemed to slow entirely to a stop. I was beginning to feel a bit too warm, so I opened the back window to let in some cool night air. I was still enjoying the effects. I had turned off the TV, and was listening to some Descendants, and enjoying the detailed cev’s. I was getting full, 2d cartoonish landscapes with a futuristic theme to them. I switched the music from Descendants to Flaw (very deep trips come about when I listen to flaw), and the trip turned far more introspective. I was having visions of the me I truly wanted to be, and thinking deeply about what I had to do in order to accomplish this. I decided a good rip of my 28x salvia homemade extract would be a good way to truly ruminate on the insight I was getting. This is where it really gets interesting.
As I was loading my plastic salvia bong (I got a plastic one for salvia so I would not have to worry about breaking it if I dropped it) with about 250 mg of the extract and began to hear some yelling coming from outside. It was the neighbors behind me. The husband and wife were having a very heated argument due to the husband losing his job due to layoffs earlier in the week. Soon, their 10-year-old son was awakened and obviously very alarmed and disturbed by what he was hearing. I could hear him crying at his father to leave his mother alone.
Suddenly, I heard his son wail in pain, as his father had struck him for getting between him and his mother to try to protect her. The whole thing was very emotionally unsettling given the circumstances. I wanted so badly to call the police, but was way too high to really go about doing it.
Instead of doing what I truly should have, I shut the window, as I could not stand to hear anymore of it, and just tried to put the whole situation out of my mind. I hid all of the illegal drugs, paranoid that my neighborhood was soon to be crawling with police, but for some reason, they never came. I sat and thought deeply about how tough these events must be on the poor child witnessing them. After an hour or so, I was beginning to feel a little better, and was no longer focused on the outside events. It was then that I made my mistake. I decided to smoke the salvia I had loaded in the bong earlier in the night. What follows is one of the most difficult things I have ever experienced.
NOTE: I know this is a very hard thing to comprehend from just a totally inadequate write up, but I will do my best to convey the heavy meaning and emotion contained within it.
As soon as the flame hit the extract, I knew this time was going to be different. This was not just some trip to salvia land. As the flame consumed the extract, I had the physical sensation of being moving way too fast forward into oblivion. I set the bong aside and lay down as the last fleeting impressions of this world remained. Suddenly it happened. I was no longer me. I was in another person’s body, experiencing a totally different life than the one I had just left. I had the impression of waking from a bad dream. Nothing about being a 12 or 13-year-old boy seemed even odd at the time, even though I was 22 at the time. I could hear screaming coming from upstairs in a house I had never seen before, but knew if it was my own. It was my mother being hit by my father; they were having a very intense argument about finances. After hearing my mother scream for help, I went upstairs to the other bedroom. My mother was on the floor, bleeding from her nose. I began to scream at my father, who was significantly larger than I. He was soon turning his attention from my mother to me. He hit me if=n the face for getting in his way. As I layed on the floor, a sense of white-hot anger began to grow within me.
Flash foreword to the next morning. I was getting ready for school, when I looked in the mirror, and could see the swollen, black eye I had gotten from my father the night before. My mother was telling me to lie and let people know I got hit by a baseball if anyone wanted to know the origin of the shiner. On the bus, no one spoke to me, just stared at my eye. I arrived in class and was immediately pulled aside by my teacher, and questioned about the black eye. I told her it was a baseball accident and it was nothing to worry about. I could tell by her expression she did not believe a word of it. I was sent to speak to someone else who I believe was the counselor. I began to lie and soon, memories of other assaults came to mind. I again felt the hatred and anger growing within me.
Flash foreword to later that day. I was in my room, getting reedy to go to bed. I layed down, but the comfort of sleep was nowhere to be found. I began to replay the previous nights events in my head. The anger again began to grow. I had started to consider killing my father. As I sat there in the dark, a plan began to form. I would go upstairs, get a kitchen knife, and stab him in the heart. It seemed like I had no option. It was the only course of action. I turned on the light. A growing sense of adrenaline and apprehension began to grow. If I was discovered in the act, I would be severely beaten, and my mother would be at greater risk for more violence. I knew deep down that this was something I had to do and there was no turning back. I began to very quietly climb the stairs. I spent a few minutes selecting the largest knife. Tears began to well up in my eyes. I went into my parent’s bedroom and stared at my father. I knew it was time. I walked over to him and plunged the knife deep into the left side of his chest. His eyes opened in shock. Blood began to spill from his mouth. He began to try to say something, but suddenly went limp. My mother never woke up.
I returned to my bedroom crying furiously. I was horrified at what I had just done. I had taken a life. I had committed the ultimate sin. There was no turning back now.
I layed in my bed in quiet contemplation. I fell asleep and when I came to, I was back in the real world. I was egor again. I still had tears running down my face. After A few minutes of confusion, I knew I had taken grugs, I realized it was all part of the trip.
Over the next few hours, I replayed the whole thing in my head several times. I was in awe of what I had just been shown. I felt the need to write, to put the experience to words. The following is verbaten from the piece of paper I still keep in my wallet as a reminder to this day.
He wakes up and hurts, and doesn’t know why
His daddy hit him in the eye
He is 12 years old and really tries
But also wishes he could die.
His teacher asks “what happened to you??”
He says nothing but she knew
She called the cops but would that do?
How would you feel if it was you.
He wakes up in the middle of the night
Thinks about it and turns on the light
Goes upstairs and gets a knife
And takes his daddies fucking life
The problem had but one solution
His daddie’s soul was the restitution
He tried to take his own son’s soul
But now he is in a fucking hole.
This trip was the most frightening thing I have ever gone through. It still has great effects on my life to this day. I have never thought of children in the same manor. I have been far more compelled to help other people. I now regularly donate whatever I can to local battered women’s shelters. I feel I was given this experience for a reason, though to this day, I am still unsure of why.
Thanks for reading this long and personal report, any thoughts on the nature of the experience would be greatly appreciated.
A little background, I was not abused as a child. I was never beaten. I am also not all that fond of children. This was my ultimate lesson about the importance of set and setting, and how something (major though it may be) in the background can really affect the outcome of a psychedelic experience.
The night started out like many others during this period of my life. I ingested 35mg of 2c-e and was settling in for an interesting solo night at home. I spent the come-up of the trip watching adult swim, nothing too deep early on in a high dose solo trip. I should say I am far more comfortable with high dose solo trips with phenethylamines than tryptamines. It was about 1 hour after dosing that the effects really began to manifest themselves. Time had seemed to slow entirely to a stop. I was beginning to feel a bit too warm, so I opened the back window to let in some cool night air. I was still enjoying the effects. I had turned off the TV, and was listening to some Descendants, and enjoying the detailed cev’s. I was getting full, 2d cartoonish landscapes with a futuristic theme to them. I switched the music from Descendants to Flaw (very deep trips come about when I listen to flaw), and the trip turned far more introspective. I was having visions of the me I truly wanted to be, and thinking deeply about what I had to do in order to accomplish this. I decided a good rip of my 28x salvia homemade extract would be a good way to truly ruminate on the insight I was getting. This is where it really gets interesting.
As I was loading my plastic salvia bong (I got a plastic one for salvia so I would not have to worry about breaking it if I dropped it) with about 250 mg of the extract and began to hear some yelling coming from outside. It was the neighbors behind me. The husband and wife were having a very heated argument due to the husband losing his job due to layoffs earlier in the week. Soon, their 10-year-old son was awakened and obviously very alarmed and disturbed by what he was hearing. I could hear him crying at his father to leave his mother alone.
Suddenly, I heard his son wail in pain, as his father had struck him for getting between him and his mother to try to protect her. The whole thing was very emotionally unsettling given the circumstances. I wanted so badly to call the police, but was way too high to really go about doing it.
Instead of doing what I truly should have, I shut the window, as I could not stand to hear anymore of it, and just tried to put the whole situation out of my mind. I hid all of the illegal drugs, paranoid that my neighborhood was soon to be crawling with police, but for some reason, they never came. I sat and thought deeply about how tough these events must be on the poor child witnessing them. After an hour or so, I was beginning to feel a little better, and was no longer focused on the outside events. It was then that I made my mistake. I decided to smoke the salvia I had loaded in the bong earlier in the night. What follows is one of the most difficult things I have ever experienced.
NOTE: I know this is a very hard thing to comprehend from just a totally inadequate write up, but I will do my best to convey the heavy meaning and emotion contained within it.
As soon as the flame hit the extract, I knew this time was going to be different. This was not just some trip to salvia land. As the flame consumed the extract, I had the physical sensation of being moving way too fast forward into oblivion. I set the bong aside and lay down as the last fleeting impressions of this world remained. Suddenly it happened. I was no longer me. I was in another person’s body, experiencing a totally different life than the one I had just left. I had the impression of waking from a bad dream. Nothing about being a 12 or 13-year-old boy seemed even odd at the time, even though I was 22 at the time. I could hear screaming coming from upstairs in a house I had never seen before, but knew if it was my own. It was my mother being hit by my father; they were having a very intense argument about finances. After hearing my mother scream for help, I went upstairs to the other bedroom. My mother was on the floor, bleeding from her nose. I began to scream at my father, who was significantly larger than I. He was soon turning his attention from my mother to me. He hit me if=n the face for getting in his way. As I layed on the floor, a sense of white-hot anger began to grow within me.
Flash foreword to the next morning. I was getting ready for school, when I looked in the mirror, and could see the swollen, black eye I had gotten from my father the night before. My mother was telling me to lie and let people know I got hit by a baseball if anyone wanted to know the origin of the shiner. On the bus, no one spoke to me, just stared at my eye. I arrived in class and was immediately pulled aside by my teacher, and questioned about the black eye. I told her it was a baseball accident and it was nothing to worry about. I could tell by her expression she did not believe a word of it. I was sent to speak to someone else who I believe was the counselor. I began to lie and soon, memories of other assaults came to mind. I again felt the hatred and anger growing within me.
Flash foreword to later that day. I was in my room, getting reedy to go to bed. I layed down, but the comfort of sleep was nowhere to be found. I began to replay the previous nights events in my head. The anger again began to grow. I had started to consider killing my father. As I sat there in the dark, a plan began to form. I would go upstairs, get a kitchen knife, and stab him in the heart. It seemed like I had no option. It was the only course of action. I turned on the light. A growing sense of adrenaline and apprehension began to grow. If I was discovered in the act, I would be severely beaten, and my mother would be at greater risk for more violence. I knew deep down that this was something I had to do and there was no turning back. I began to very quietly climb the stairs. I spent a few minutes selecting the largest knife. Tears began to well up in my eyes. I went into my parent’s bedroom and stared at my father. I knew it was time. I walked over to him and plunged the knife deep into the left side of his chest. His eyes opened in shock. Blood began to spill from his mouth. He began to try to say something, but suddenly went limp. My mother never woke up.
I returned to my bedroom crying furiously. I was horrified at what I had just done. I had taken a life. I had committed the ultimate sin. There was no turning back now.
I layed in my bed in quiet contemplation. I fell asleep and when I came to, I was back in the real world. I was egor again. I still had tears running down my face. After A few minutes of confusion, I knew I had taken grugs, I realized it was all part of the trip.
Over the next few hours, I replayed the whole thing in my head several times. I was in awe of what I had just been shown. I felt the need to write, to put the experience to words. The following is verbaten from the piece of paper I still keep in my wallet as a reminder to this day.
He wakes up and hurts, and doesn’t know why
His daddy hit him in the eye
He is 12 years old and really tries
But also wishes he could die.
His teacher asks “what happened to you??”
He says nothing but she knew
She called the cops but would that do?
How would you feel if it was you.
He wakes up in the middle of the night
Thinks about it and turns on the light
Goes upstairs and gets a knife
And takes his daddies fucking life
The problem had but one solution
His daddie’s soul was the restitution
He tried to take his own son’s soul
But now he is in a fucking hole.
This trip was the most frightening thing I have ever gone through. It still has great effects on my life to this day. I have never thought of children in the same manor. I have been far more compelled to help other people. I now regularly donate whatever I can to local battered women’s shelters. I feel I was given this experience for a reason, though to this day, I am still unsure of why.
Thanks for reading this long and personal report, any thoughts on the nature of the experience would be greatly appreciated.
