FrozenLightning
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Sep 2, 2004
- Messages
- 30
Salvia 15x - +++ - Salivation
Hi, I'm new to these forums and I figured I'd post a trip report on one of my best experiences with Salvia Divinorum 15X extract. I wrote this about a week after the initial trip. Let me know what you think!
Salivation
The rough cacophony of solid washed gravel reverberated throughout the whispering trees of the dark forest, crackling louder each time my foot crossed the path of the last step. My digital wristwatch glowed silently in a sea of nothingness, devoid of any like entities. Beneath the plastic pane that protected those sensitive panels, the pixels lit up reading me a time, which meant nothing to me at this point. Time seems to lose itself in the cover of night, walking with no real destination but that of the entangled antipodes of one’s very own mind. A vial, small in mass, no larger than 1 gram, lay dormant in the abyss of my shirt pocket. Its contents would prove to be the vehicle that would carry me to these far antipodes of which I had no map to; no definite root, only the hidden wells of my mind to guide me there, with the help of this black powder. I continued walking, my travel guide was next to me, and we walked silently with an unrelenting determination to complete a task we had no real knowledge of, but our minds craved it; a sense of discovery overwhelmed me. Under the cover of slowly oscillating moonlight, a product of the shifting branches, we walked to a physical destination. An old house, lost of residents, stood staring us down, examining our presence. It was calling me.
My feet and mind working in heavenly cohesion dragged the physical component of myself toward this shimmering source, pulled me around the edges and the soft glowing lamp affixed to the door frame, and then shot me up a small incline to a comfortable feeling sitting area. Again the chemicals in my brain were rapidly mixing and taunting my very own placement, annoying me with hidden agendas of the current time and the risks I could partake in. What I thought were my own hands, but in fact were possessed by some ephemeral force, drunkenly reached into my shirt pocket and brought forth that tiny, shining vial. Skin, these blobs of skin (mine?), removed the cap of the map, and set him carefully in the glass enclosure of his vehicle, where he prepared to take himself into the far reaches of my mind, and show me the way, lead me to existentialism. He sat, or stood in the hole, waiting to be told what to do; my thumb was already on the wheel. That hand clenched and with a burst of energy forced my thumb downward across the knurled surface, sending asunder a brilliant array of sparks, and as my thumb slammed into the black oval shaped pad at the bottom, a bright flame erupted. The flame stared down my eyes, jumped around on the silvery tip of the lighter, and danced across my travel guide’s eyes with such ease and carefree motion that I was left at ease as it moved to tell him, the Map, where to go.
I quickly moved the glass receptacle to my shivering lips and breathed deeply as I watched the flickering flame concentrate on one singular spot in the midst of an indescribable amount of correlates. The map obediently followed his commands, for he was no longer an it, but a flowing, living thing. His billows and wings took form and flew ever gracefully down the glass hollow and through my closed lips. I felt the plume rise up inside of my lungs and couldn’t exhale for a large amount of time, then finally let it out with a burst. He yelled at me, that faithful mapmaker, standing on a ledge lost in the receptors and neurons of my brain, he yelled for me to do it again, more and more. I obeyed him in an obedient fashion, and quickly repeated the process. Another yell, a shout, a cry, a plea for eternity; I obeyed. And he too, relieved, floated himself from the edge of my brain, wherever that was, and was now my mind.
The holes in my head, the useless eye sockets, revealed a changing and trembling landscape before me. He warned me, that little man, he stared from that ledge. I too was warning myself, as from the canopy of this dark entanglement of branches above fell a triad of severed faces, heads. From a triad to a quad, and now a million more fell upon me. I stared wide eyed at the scene of which was undoubtedly real. Streams of silky wet blood, exposing their selves from every angle, shining their sinewy glistens under the projection of the soft white moonlight, shot from the heads and poured down onto my physical entity. Staring eyes all around, mouths agape, moaning their trivial concerns in a monotone vibration, haunted me. Eyes—staring. I could etch out of the darkness a brilliant mosaic of every facet of human life, every possible combination of character that could ever be told from that simple glance at a person. And they talked- they were there- we were conversing- I was overwhelmed- stop this- madness- insanity- they told me more- I didn’t hear- I was forced- kicked- subdued- and the guide ran. I alone, left amongst these foul beings. Alone—singular. He panicked inside of me, my uncaring mapmaker, he ran from the walls bouncing and shouting, but they couldn’t expand any longer, he still found what he needed. Relief flooded my veins.
I stared bleakly as the faces of these horrible beings crumbled. These faces cried out as streams of maroon shot from their every orifice, from the cracks in their skulls caused by that little man. Maroon colored liquid spilled all around, I couldn’t hear reality, I couldn’t feel it. I was drowned in ambience, only blissful because of what had happened before. A massive pool was forming from their lifeblood, coddling up beneath me. As the pool began to take over my position, it shot upward, outward, downward, and directions undefined by words. This blood frantically scurried up the air, the sweet smelling night, and painted its dimensions around me, overtook the entire forest, the color of the moon, and then it saw me, and sped faster than light could possibly travel into the wells of my mind. I didn’t understand, I was lost, my faithful guide had fallen as well as I could no longer speak with him. A video camera, it seemed, had taken place of my organic eyes.
My mind peered through the 45mm lens of my new visionary organ. The arms that were once my very own flesh were dark and battered steel, tempered to an impenetrable hardness, equipped with humming mechanical hands ready to clutch whatever the rest of the machine needed. In a uniform manner my entire body followed, and was soon not my body, but a mechanical machine, ready to do battle. The machine possessed only one desire—run. He switched the view to third person, that little man, and changed up the colors on the grid to a bright phosphorescent green. Looking at myself from this omniscient view, I realized I was merely a mass of clustered electrons moving through a world generated by God himself, or was it the little man? Without question I took flight, panicking as I ran wildly through a maze of grid lines and moonlight that poured down as that of a milky white flow from a paint bucket in the heavens.
Inside my head he toyed joyfully, not letting up his psychotropic grip over my linear mind. As my paces increased in speed through that green, flickering grid below me, I ran without any thought in mind but to escape, from what pursuit I wasn’t aware. It was at this point that I felt my physical body leave my mind, and I remained a floating entity in ethereal reality which enveloped my perception. I could swivel my vision fully in any direction, the possibilities seemed infinite. Staring down from my hovering perch, I watched my body, shivering with eyes wide, as it looked lifeless back at me. At this point, the perch on which I felt so secure fell away, and I slammed with a thud back into my linear mind. In doing this, I slowly regained control of my physical body as I was awaking from this incipient experience, the baseline of new realities. An effulgent flow of saturated hues flooded my running mind, and I stood up to find my lost guide.
I'd like to get some feedback! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it, Mike
Hi, I'm new to these forums and I figured I'd post a trip report on one of my best experiences with Salvia Divinorum 15X extract. I wrote this about a week after the initial trip. Let me know what you think!
Salivation
The rough cacophony of solid washed gravel reverberated throughout the whispering trees of the dark forest, crackling louder each time my foot crossed the path of the last step. My digital wristwatch glowed silently in a sea of nothingness, devoid of any like entities. Beneath the plastic pane that protected those sensitive panels, the pixels lit up reading me a time, which meant nothing to me at this point. Time seems to lose itself in the cover of night, walking with no real destination but that of the entangled antipodes of one’s very own mind. A vial, small in mass, no larger than 1 gram, lay dormant in the abyss of my shirt pocket. Its contents would prove to be the vehicle that would carry me to these far antipodes of which I had no map to; no definite root, only the hidden wells of my mind to guide me there, with the help of this black powder. I continued walking, my travel guide was next to me, and we walked silently with an unrelenting determination to complete a task we had no real knowledge of, but our minds craved it; a sense of discovery overwhelmed me. Under the cover of slowly oscillating moonlight, a product of the shifting branches, we walked to a physical destination. An old house, lost of residents, stood staring us down, examining our presence. It was calling me.
My feet and mind working in heavenly cohesion dragged the physical component of myself toward this shimmering source, pulled me around the edges and the soft glowing lamp affixed to the door frame, and then shot me up a small incline to a comfortable feeling sitting area. Again the chemicals in my brain were rapidly mixing and taunting my very own placement, annoying me with hidden agendas of the current time and the risks I could partake in. What I thought were my own hands, but in fact were possessed by some ephemeral force, drunkenly reached into my shirt pocket and brought forth that tiny, shining vial. Skin, these blobs of skin (mine?), removed the cap of the map, and set him carefully in the glass enclosure of his vehicle, where he prepared to take himself into the far reaches of my mind, and show me the way, lead me to existentialism. He sat, or stood in the hole, waiting to be told what to do; my thumb was already on the wheel. That hand clenched and with a burst of energy forced my thumb downward across the knurled surface, sending asunder a brilliant array of sparks, and as my thumb slammed into the black oval shaped pad at the bottom, a bright flame erupted. The flame stared down my eyes, jumped around on the silvery tip of the lighter, and danced across my travel guide’s eyes with such ease and carefree motion that I was left at ease as it moved to tell him, the Map, where to go.
I quickly moved the glass receptacle to my shivering lips and breathed deeply as I watched the flickering flame concentrate on one singular spot in the midst of an indescribable amount of correlates. The map obediently followed his commands, for he was no longer an it, but a flowing, living thing. His billows and wings took form and flew ever gracefully down the glass hollow and through my closed lips. I felt the plume rise up inside of my lungs and couldn’t exhale for a large amount of time, then finally let it out with a burst. He yelled at me, that faithful mapmaker, standing on a ledge lost in the receptors and neurons of my brain, he yelled for me to do it again, more and more. I obeyed him in an obedient fashion, and quickly repeated the process. Another yell, a shout, a cry, a plea for eternity; I obeyed. And he too, relieved, floated himself from the edge of my brain, wherever that was, and was now my mind.
The holes in my head, the useless eye sockets, revealed a changing and trembling landscape before me. He warned me, that little man, he stared from that ledge. I too was warning myself, as from the canopy of this dark entanglement of branches above fell a triad of severed faces, heads. From a triad to a quad, and now a million more fell upon me. I stared wide eyed at the scene of which was undoubtedly real. Streams of silky wet blood, exposing their selves from every angle, shining their sinewy glistens under the projection of the soft white moonlight, shot from the heads and poured down onto my physical entity. Staring eyes all around, mouths agape, moaning their trivial concerns in a monotone vibration, haunted me. Eyes—staring. I could etch out of the darkness a brilliant mosaic of every facet of human life, every possible combination of character that could ever be told from that simple glance at a person. And they talked- they were there- we were conversing- I was overwhelmed- stop this- madness- insanity- they told me more- I didn’t hear- I was forced- kicked- subdued- and the guide ran. I alone, left amongst these foul beings. Alone—singular. He panicked inside of me, my uncaring mapmaker, he ran from the walls bouncing and shouting, but they couldn’t expand any longer, he still found what he needed. Relief flooded my veins.
I stared bleakly as the faces of these horrible beings crumbled. These faces cried out as streams of maroon shot from their every orifice, from the cracks in their skulls caused by that little man. Maroon colored liquid spilled all around, I couldn’t hear reality, I couldn’t feel it. I was drowned in ambience, only blissful because of what had happened before. A massive pool was forming from their lifeblood, coddling up beneath me. As the pool began to take over my position, it shot upward, outward, downward, and directions undefined by words. This blood frantically scurried up the air, the sweet smelling night, and painted its dimensions around me, overtook the entire forest, the color of the moon, and then it saw me, and sped faster than light could possibly travel into the wells of my mind. I didn’t understand, I was lost, my faithful guide had fallen as well as I could no longer speak with him. A video camera, it seemed, had taken place of my organic eyes.
My mind peered through the 45mm lens of my new visionary organ. The arms that were once my very own flesh were dark and battered steel, tempered to an impenetrable hardness, equipped with humming mechanical hands ready to clutch whatever the rest of the machine needed. In a uniform manner my entire body followed, and was soon not my body, but a mechanical machine, ready to do battle. The machine possessed only one desire—run. He switched the view to third person, that little man, and changed up the colors on the grid to a bright phosphorescent green. Looking at myself from this omniscient view, I realized I was merely a mass of clustered electrons moving through a world generated by God himself, or was it the little man? Without question I took flight, panicking as I ran wildly through a maze of grid lines and moonlight that poured down as that of a milky white flow from a paint bucket in the heavens.
Inside my head he toyed joyfully, not letting up his psychotropic grip over my linear mind. As my paces increased in speed through that green, flickering grid below me, I ran without any thought in mind but to escape, from what pursuit I wasn’t aware. It was at this point that I felt my physical body leave my mind, and I remained a floating entity in ethereal reality which enveloped my perception. I could swivel my vision fully in any direction, the possibilities seemed infinite. Staring down from my hovering perch, I watched my body, shivering with eyes wide, as it looked lifeless back at me. At this point, the perch on which I felt so secure fell away, and I slammed with a thud back into my linear mind. In doing this, I slowly regained control of my physical body as I was awaking from this incipient experience, the baseline of new realities. An effulgent flow of saturated hues flooded my running mind, and I stood up to find my lost guide.
I'd like to get some feedback! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it, Mike
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