SALVIA 13x (Large Dose)
Upon exhaling, I drift down from the sky towards the top of a short mountain. There is a clearing and a small hut. As I approach and land softly on the ground, people start appearing out of thin air. However these people were all the same person, like clones. They had no legs or pelvis, just a torso, arms, and a head. They were wearing all the same shirts (light-blue tank-tops) and straw hats. They gathered around and welcomed me smiling and excited like they had been waiting their whole lives to meet me. They motion me inside the hut (straw roof) and smiling I walk towards it.
As I approached the doorway, the scene faded in a myst of fog and humidity. I then saw a sort of "construction site" where giant mushroom statues were being erected up by amazingly strong men and ropes/pullies. There were 3. The first was blue. The second was purple. The third was a reddish-orange. Men walking around with sledge-hammers. Look at me and then turn back to their work.
My eyes were then forced to close. A psychedelic mess of abstract art...globs of color, lightening, lava-lamp-like movement, faces of strangeness, blast waves of color, white birds merging with a purple sky. I saw countless human eyes all around me shrinking into themselves and back out again.
When I open my eyes, I see rolling purple mountains made of liquid light. Slowly a face appears from the foggy purple light. It is the face of an old indian woman.
(note: I have ancestors in the Cherokee and Black Feet indian tribes. My great great great great Grandfather was a shaman that walked the trail of tears after the birth of my great great great Grandmother.)
I knew that this old indian woman was my great great great Grandmother. Then many more Indian ancestors began appearing thru the fog. My Shamanic great great great great Grandfather was standing beside her along with maybe 10 other indian relatives. They just stood there watching me and I in turn watched them. I knew it was them. I could feel it. They fade away.
There is still a little Salvia in the pipe and I light it. The lighter creates a strange glow but does not illuminate the room. I exhale and am suddenly without warning in a black void of nothingness...infinite space. I'm just floating there in Limbo. Hanging weightless in the infinite. I can not move.
Minutes later, I hear the piano music from that Kevin Spacey film "The Usual Suspects"...Purple globs move and change shape like I'm inside a lava lamp.
Last Words...Out.
Upon exhaling, I drift down from the sky towards the top of a short mountain. There is a clearing and a small hut. As I approach and land softly on the ground, people start appearing out of thin air. However these people were all the same person, like clones. They had no legs or pelvis, just a torso, arms, and a head. They were wearing all the same shirts (light-blue tank-tops) and straw hats. They gathered around and welcomed me smiling and excited like they had been waiting their whole lives to meet me. They motion me inside the hut (straw roof) and smiling I walk towards it.
As I approached the doorway, the scene faded in a myst of fog and humidity. I then saw a sort of "construction site" where giant mushroom statues were being erected up by amazingly strong men and ropes/pullies. There were 3. The first was blue. The second was purple. The third was a reddish-orange. Men walking around with sledge-hammers. Look at me and then turn back to their work.
My eyes were then forced to close. A psychedelic mess of abstract art...globs of color, lightening, lava-lamp-like movement, faces of strangeness, blast waves of color, white birds merging with a purple sky. I saw countless human eyes all around me shrinking into themselves and back out again.
When I open my eyes, I see rolling purple mountains made of liquid light. Slowly a face appears from the foggy purple light. It is the face of an old indian woman.
(note: I have ancestors in the Cherokee and Black Feet indian tribes. My great great great great Grandfather was a shaman that walked the trail of tears after the birth of my great great great Grandmother.)
I knew that this old indian woman was my great great great Grandmother. Then many more Indian ancestors began appearing thru the fog. My Shamanic great great great great Grandfather was standing beside her along with maybe 10 other indian relatives. They just stood there watching me and I in turn watched them. I knew it was them. I could feel it. They fade away.
There is still a little Salvia in the pipe and I light it. The lighter creates a strange glow but does not illuminate the room. I exhale and am suddenly without warning in a black void of nothingness...infinite space. I'm just floating there in Limbo. Hanging weightless in the infinite. I can not move.
Minutes later, I hear the piano music from that Kevin Spacey film "The Usual Suspects"...Purple globs move and change shape like I'm inside a lava lamp.
Last Words...Out.
