This experience has taught me the valuable lesson of measuring out your substance and not eyeballing it. You also gotta know what you're eating and how potent it is. Too bad I didn't do either and had one hell of a trip.
It was Sunday night and my dad took my mom and my little brother to the airport. He left at 8:15, so I guessed he would be back around 9:30 or so. Just enough time to shroom and get used to the effects. Because I didn't have a scale, I decided to eat 10 small shrooms, as this dose looked similar to the sizes of my other doses.
I decided to play some computer game on the come-up to kill some time. About thirty minutes later, I looked to my left and stared down at my table. The lighter colors on the wood began to glide, as if they were sliding off the table. Only thirty minutes and I was tripping. In the back of my head, I said "Shit," for I knew that whenever someone began to trip this early, he or she would have one intense experience. However, my punk teenage ass was saying "Sweet! Time for one awesome trip!"
I continued to play my game for a little while longer, waiting for the trip to grow stronger. While playing the game, I would notice all the textures and they appeared very lifelike - I wasn't sure whether the game had made them this lifelike or I was just tripping. Either or, I decided I had had enough gaming, and decided to listen to some music.
I decided to listen to Infected Mushroom - A Psychedelic Trip, because, well, I was on a psychedelic trip. At first, the music itself wasn't all that interesting. I mean it had a nice beat and all, but I didn't get that much out of it. Then I looked to my right and looked at my wall. The party had started. In the middle of my wall, different shapes and colors were on my walls, and they seemed to be dancing to the music.
If you've heard this song, you can imagine how crazy the dancing shapes and colors appeared. First, there was a green and yellow diamond shaped waffle. The middle then split and the two triangles began climbing the music and changing shape apropos to the music. The entire wall then gained faint dark spots all over it. The spots were petty big, about the size of a human head. Then these spots too began dancing to the music. What a party!
I decided to test out whether or not the music actually had that much influence on my visuals. I took off my head phones, and sure enough the visuals were still dancing to the beat. Well, the song was actually stuck in my head, and the shrooms helped keep it there. I closed Winamp, as I was getting tired of just staring at a wall. I looked to my left and looked at my window blinds. Damn were they intimidating. Like four mean bouncers, they stood there, just staring at me.
I then went over to my flower sheets on my bed to check out how they would appear. I stared at them, and sure enough they began to change. They actually only twirled a little bit back and forth, nothing spectacular. But that damn music was still playing. I went back to my computer and Winamp was closed. Bah, damn shrooms just don't want to let go of that song.
I was in the mood to take a walk, especially this late at night, as I was unable to walk outside on my last shroom trips. I put on a sweatshirt and some pants and marched out of the house, in pretty good spirits. I noticed that my visuals weren't that intense, but rather my mind was more influenced, as I began to have thoughts that I wouldn't normally have. As I was walking outside, I was wondering about my life and what I was doing in general.
I began to wonder why I was so lazy and concluded that I just hated work. I felt this hopelessness in working upwards, instead of accepting entropy to fall back down. For some reason, I felt that a monk would be the best choice for me; not too much work, and some nice reward after all that meditation.
While I was walking, I passed by some vines with flowers scattered here and there on them. The whole picture of the vines and flowers took the shape of a green wall that was alive. The vines were it's veins, while the flowers were the mouths of the wall to eat anything that got close. As I continued to stare at this wall, the flowers began to change into heads, and each flower took the shape of a completely different head than the other flower's heads.
"Pretty cool," I thought, but not really that cool. I wasn't having that crazy of visuals, and only my mind was working in shroom mode. I was thinking farther about life and why everybody worked and how everything operated. It seemed that life moved away from death and that life was afraid of death. People worked and ate and progressed in the direction opposite of death, or so it seemed. Everything went up, literally and figuratively. Skyscrapers, hopes, accomplishments, and so on.
But I didn't want to go up. Maybe in my shroom trip I did, but I didn't want to go away from death. I wanted to get as close to it as possible, for I knew I couldn't fully embrace death as long as I had life. I sort of figured that because work goes away from death and I hate work, I wasn't too far away from it to begin with.
At this point in the walk, I decided to head back. Time was going way too slow, and I was just plain bored of walking. It was also getting pretty hot, at least in my shroom mind, and I took off my sweatshirt. I joked to myself that I would end up naked at home, for whatever the reasons may be.
For the duration of the walk, my thoughts circled around the idea of work and the uselessness of my life. I was almost positive that I should become a monk or something of the sort, as trivial work to make money did not appeal to me. I then became so frustrated that I had to waste my time studying and doing things that didn't appeal to me at all, as they appeared to be a complete waste of time.
Right as I approached my gate, I was stomping my feet in anger that I had to do these things. I guess the shrooms didn't like work that much either. As I was walking towards the door to the house, my dad pulled in with his car. For some reason my hearing is terrible on shrooms, and I can never really make out what anyone is saying. My dad asked me a few things, and thankfully I was able to answer him clearly.
I marched back inside the house, feeling a little off, but not too high. The visuals were decent, as I remember looking at a clock that said 9:15 and the numbers began to swirl and move. They were cute visuals, but nothing that great. I went to my room, locked the door, lay down on my bed, and closed my eyes. Now these visuals were pretty damn amazing. I didn't have any geometric patterns that everyone brags about. I just had very random and crazy visuals in my head, like bright colored squares revolving around some video game's creature's head.
It was really hot, or appeared to be, so I turned on the AC. I then took off my shirt, as I was feeling pretty nasty. I wasn't really sure if I was that hot, or if I was just tripping, but I figured it wouldn't hurt cooling off the place a little bit anyways. I started drinking some water, in hopes that I would cool off. However, I only took a few gulps before I felt as if I was full of water. Obviously I wasn't, but I was too mentally off to do a thing about it.
Then my dad knocked on my door and said he would probably be out most of the week, doing some gambling. Being on shrooms, I felt it almost impossible not to laugh, for I was in such a giddy mood. I smiled quite a bit, and my dad asked me what was so funny. I explained that I thought it was funny that he'd do this, because it was the thing that he would do if he could do it (the thing being gambling and not being around the house that much). He accepted my answer and left me alone.
I closed the door, locking it again, as I hate being disturbed while in the middle of something, especially a heavy psychedelic trip. I sat down on my chair and began to laugh uncontrollably. I giggled to myself, shaking my head, and then began to cry. I didn't know why I was crying, but I began sobbing harder and harder. Then I laughed again, as I had no clue why I was crying. Some pretty strange emotions if you ask me.
I wasn't really sure why I started crying then. Maybe I felt that I wasn't really that close to my dad or I felt alone or something, I really had, and have, not clue why I broke down. This is when things spiraled out of control, and my insanity took place.
I resumed crying and began to have a reason for crying. I wanted to die so badly and end all the bullshit in my life, but I knew I couldn't. I began arguing in my head with anyone who opposed my death and I created the argument of want. It was what I wanted verse what they wanted, and what I wanted was more important to me than what they wanted. I felt it was pretty bogus that people's wants held me back and I never really could do anything I wanted.
At the time, my visuals were pretty minor. All I had was swirling colors and shapes swaying left and right; no breathing walls, no major distance distortions, no nothing. It had been thirty minutes since my first visuals, and these visuals varied only a little bit. This trip was definitely going to be a purely mental one, as I was already experiencing the first stages of it.
I was sobbing still, and had to take a piss; the first of many that night. I went back to my chair and kept asking why I wasn't allowed to die. I posted on Bluelight that question, but knew that nobody would be able to answer my question. Now I had become even more down, and wanted some answers.
At first, I decided to call one of my friends. I picked up the phone, dialed his number, and hung up as soon as he answered. I then decided to call my shrink, as he told me to call him whenever I needed to. I guessed that this was one of those times, and began looking for my phone. I looked in my closet, my bathroom, on my desk, everywhere, but I couldn't find it. How fucking ironic, I thought. Even though I was crying, I began laughing my ass off because I couldn't find my phone at such a crucial time.
I was pretty hot at the time, and stripped down to the bare nude. It actually felt pretty good. I suggest anyone who's tripping to follow your impulses (unless you're insane) and get naked.
Anyways, I began tearing up my room, literally. I was so desperate to find this phone. I took my laundry basket and dumped it on the floor in hopes that my cell phone was in there. Naked, I threw my clothes left and right frantically looking for my cell phone. I was out of luck and could not find it there. I laughed to myself again, thinking how funny it was that such a small object was so important now.
Nature called me again, and I took another piss in the bathroom. I then looked around in the bathroom, in hopes of finding my phone. No such luck, of course. I went back in my closet to look around for it,and came up empty handed. I started to think that fate, God, luck, whatever, made the phone disappear and wanted me to suffer for the rest of my trip.
Feeling beaten, I sat down on my chair, and lifted up a wash cloth for the hell of it that was on my desk. Lo and behold, my damn cell phone was under it! I had trashed the place thoroughly, not completely, when I could have found it right with no trouble at all. For some reason, I didn't think of cleaning up the place; I just left all my clothes scattered around the room.
I typed in the number to call my shrink on my house phone, as I had no service in my room with my cell phone. However, after a few rings, I became so frustrated, for reasons unknown, and threw down the phone in anger. "Fuck it all," I thought. I felt pretty hopeless, and went back online to see if anyone had answered my post. The same guy who had told someone else to pick up a heroin addiction told me to do the same, and I became pretty annoyed at him. I wrote up some post, basically telling him off, and felt better afterwards.
Somehow, I had some transition from feeling terrible to feeling great. I realized that because I wanted death, I was basically invincible. People fear death all the time, and that limits their actions. However, I could do anything I wanted to, as I didn't fear death at all; I wanted it.
I logged onto AIM and began chatting with a few friends. I explained how I had beaten the system. Which system? The system of life. Because I accepted everything, nothing could go wrong. I didn't want anything, and I didn't not want anything, I just wanted. It was beautiful. I told them all, "I just want, and that would make me perfect."
Then I began equating myself to God, as I was able to beat the system of life. Because I accepted everything like He did, and because I simply wanted, I was God. I felt so powerful, as I was able to do anything I wanted to. Then I started posting on Bluelight, asking advice on how to be God. I went back to my IM's to chat about want and how I was set for life.
Then my insanity took another peak. I decided I wanted to go out in a field of glory, possibly getting shot up and being in the newspaper - a great way to get famous. I posted that on Bluelight, and began Instant Messaging a good chunk of my buddy list. I talked to a lot of people I hadn't talked to in a long time, saying pretty random shit. Like I talked to one girl and told her I had a thing for her in 9th grade, asking if she had a boyfriend and the like.
Then I talked to another friend and basically told him to piss off and tell everyone at school that I was God. Another friend and I were talking and joking around, and I laughed pretty hard at his jokes. In fact, I laughed really hard at everything; I was in a great mood.
Except I had to take another piss. I thought to myself, "Damn, this piss is pissing me off," and started laughing hysterically. I began to applaud the makers of the English language, saying how witty they were for making up the word piss and it's definitions. After taking a wizz, I went back to the computer to chat some more.
My visuals were still very little, while my mind state was not. I had concluded in my mind that I was insane, for I actually was. I didn't care though, it felt great. Everybody has their own reality, right? I forgot who said that, but I concluded that my reality was great, even if I was insane. What was so bad about being delusional? I was God, and that was all that mattered.
I went back to Bluelight and made a bunch of other random posts, basically talking out of my ass as I had become insane. I thought to myself to break into a gun store to do one of two things. One, go out in a field of glory and get shot up by some pigs, or two, live of my own on the streets, basically doing nothing. The latter sounded better, and I decided I would do that as soon as I was done chatting on the computer.
I managed to piss off a good number of people that night, and got a few of them to block me. However, the other people that I was talking to, without saying complete shit, had great conversations with me. Usually I'm terrible at conversations, just awful. But now I could schmooze with whoever and have a good time.
My friend who sold me the shrooms then called me to ask how the shrooms were. I told him that I was God and how hard I was tripping, and he just laughed. He then told me about his shroom trips, and how he always got nauseous on them. Before, he said he never tripped before, but now he was telling me the truth. It seemed that these shrooms allowed me to connect better with people, as I was being more open and talkative ?something I'm not at all while sober.
After hanging up the phone, I had to test myself to see if I truly was unstoppable. I wanted to make sure I could do anything I wanted to, and sure enough I was able to. I had to take another piss, these shrooms made my bladder out of control, and I got up from my chair and took a piss in the middle of my room. I didn't even feel bad about it; I just turned around and went back to chatting on the computer.
Talking began to become very boring, as nobody had anything interesting to say. I closed up Bluelight and AIM, and loaded up a computer game. I couldn't stop talking, and I talked massive shit while I was online. I mean I was joking around with everybody, I wasn't trying to be mean to anyone.
I also had incredibly logic while online, despite my state of insanity. I could argue with anyone and easily win the argument, stating points that were very clear - much clearer than when sober.
By now it was midnight, and I had thoroughly trashed myself. I had spit everywhere, as I didn't give a fuck about anything, and pissed on the floor. I wanted to talk more shrooms and go incredibly insane, but they just tasted too damn nasty. I guess that was a good thing, as if I had eaten more I probably would have gone out and pulled some stupid stuff.
Now I had realized how big of a mess I made, and what a big mistake I made. I really began to regret messing up my room this badly, and wondered how in the hell I was able to do that. Tired and pissed off as hell, I knew I had to clean up the room before the day was over. The thoughts about death began to enter my mind again, and really wanted to die, again.
But, I knew I couldn't give up and just go to bed. After many pauses and short breakdowns, I finally cleaned up my room. I was exhausted, and decided to go to sleep. I lay down in my bed, but I was still wide awake. Damn, not this again. Last time I shroomed and tried to go to sleep I was unable to, and had to stay up a few hours. The same thing happened here, and I was up for at least another two hours, laying uncomfortably in my bed with a nice headache.
Two interesting things happened in bed, though. First, I had no clue of direction at all, being that I didn't know up from down from left from right. I mean, I knew that I was lying on a bed, but I had no clue where anything was located. I could have been lying on the wall for all I knew. The second thing was that I could make myself think that I was a square piece of paper, like a blotter paper. Somehow my mind flattened me and my world out, and I became 2D. I could not feel any part of my body - I was only aware of my mind. I thought this would help me fall asleep, but I was doomed to stay up another few hours.
I decided to lie down in bed and not move at all. After what seemed like hours, I woke up the next morning with no recollection of falling asleep, or even being close to sleep. However, I did have some very intense dreams that were quite random. I woke up with a TERRIBLE headache, one that I've never experienced before. The day after, Monday, was spent recuperating from this interesting trip.
Well, now I know what it's like to be insane. I'm not sure if my report painted you the picture of insanity, but I don't suggest anyone trying to go insane. I honestly don't know what to say after this trip. I mean, the only thing I gained from this trip is that the only thing I want I cannot get, which is death, and that insanity is NOT fun. Oh yeah, eyeballing doses is not the best idea; especially when you don't know how potent your shrooms are.
My dad just walked in while I was writing my report and asked me if I was on anything Sunday night. Oops, I guess I didn't hide it too well. Oh well, at least he doesn't know what happened inside my room.
Still, two days after, I feel a little scattered and a little confused. Yeah, I'm pretty damn confused actually. Maybe some more shrooms? Hah... maybe another time. I still gotta get back my sanity and fix up a few messes I made online. Bah, too much rambling in a trip report. Sorry this isn't my style, but I'm too scattered right now too pull myself together and type up a truly great report.
Anyways, as your new God, I command you to write some comments.
It was Sunday night and my dad took my mom and my little brother to the airport. He left at 8:15, so I guessed he would be back around 9:30 or so. Just enough time to shroom and get used to the effects. Because I didn't have a scale, I decided to eat 10 small shrooms, as this dose looked similar to the sizes of my other doses.
I decided to play some computer game on the come-up to kill some time. About thirty minutes later, I looked to my left and stared down at my table. The lighter colors on the wood began to glide, as if they were sliding off the table. Only thirty minutes and I was tripping. In the back of my head, I said "Shit," for I knew that whenever someone began to trip this early, he or she would have one intense experience. However, my punk teenage ass was saying "Sweet! Time for one awesome trip!"
I continued to play my game for a little while longer, waiting for the trip to grow stronger. While playing the game, I would notice all the textures and they appeared very lifelike - I wasn't sure whether the game had made them this lifelike or I was just tripping. Either or, I decided I had had enough gaming, and decided to listen to some music.
I decided to listen to Infected Mushroom - A Psychedelic Trip, because, well, I was on a psychedelic trip. At first, the music itself wasn't all that interesting. I mean it had a nice beat and all, but I didn't get that much out of it. Then I looked to my right and looked at my wall. The party had started. In the middle of my wall, different shapes and colors were on my walls, and they seemed to be dancing to the music.
If you've heard this song, you can imagine how crazy the dancing shapes and colors appeared. First, there was a green and yellow diamond shaped waffle. The middle then split and the two triangles began climbing the music and changing shape apropos to the music. The entire wall then gained faint dark spots all over it. The spots were petty big, about the size of a human head. Then these spots too began dancing to the music. What a party!
I decided to test out whether or not the music actually had that much influence on my visuals. I took off my head phones, and sure enough the visuals were still dancing to the beat. Well, the song was actually stuck in my head, and the shrooms helped keep it there. I closed Winamp, as I was getting tired of just staring at a wall. I looked to my left and looked at my window blinds. Damn were they intimidating. Like four mean bouncers, they stood there, just staring at me.
I then went over to my flower sheets on my bed to check out how they would appear. I stared at them, and sure enough they began to change. They actually only twirled a little bit back and forth, nothing spectacular. But that damn music was still playing. I went back to my computer and Winamp was closed. Bah, damn shrooms just don't want to let go of that song.
I was in the mood to take a walk, especially this late at night, as I was unable to walk outside on my last shroom trips. I put on a sweatshirt and some pants and marched out of the house, in pretty good spirits. I noticed that my visuals weren't that intense, but rather my mind was more influenced, as I began to have thoughts that I wouldn't normally have. As I was walking outside, I was wondering about my life and what I was doing in general.
I began to wonder why I was so lazy and concluded that I just hated work. I felt this hopelessness in working upwards, instead of accepting entropy to fall back down. For some reason, I felt that a monk would be the best choice for me; not too much work, and some nice reward after all that meditation.
While I was walking, I passed by some vines with flowers scattered here and there on them. The whole picture of the vines and flowers took the shape of a green wall that was alive. The vines were it's veins, while the flowers were the mouths of the wall to eat anything that got close. As I continued to stare at this wall, the flowers began to change into heads, and each flower took the shape of a completely different head than the other flower's heads.
"Pretty cool," I thought, but not really that cool. I wasn't having that crazy of visuals, and only my mind was working in shroom mode. I was thinking farther about life and why everybody worked and how everything operated. It seemed that life moved away from death and that life was afraid of death. People worked and ate and progressed in the direction opposite of death, or so it seemed. Everything went up, literally and figuratively. Skyscrapers, hopes, accomplishments, and so on.
But I didn't want to go up. Maybe in my shroom trip I did, but I didn't want to go away from death. I wanted to get as close to it as possible, for I knew I couldn't fully embrace death as long as I had life. I sort of figured that because work goes away from death and I hate work, I wasn't too far away from it to begin with.
At this point in the walk, I decided to head back. Time was going way too slow, and I was just plain bored of walking. It was also getting pretty hot, at least in my shroom mind, and I took off my sweatshirt. I joked to myself that I would end up naked at home, for whatever the reasons may be.
For the duration of the walk, my thoughts circled around the idea of work and the uselessness of my life. I was almost positive that I should become a monk or something of the sort, as trivial work to make money did not appeal to me. I then became so frustrated that I had to waste my time studying and doing things that didn't appeal to me at all, as they appeared to be a complete waste of time.
Right as I approached my gate, I was stomping my feet in anger that I had to do these things. I guess the shrooms didn't like work that much either. As I was walking towards the door to the house, my dad pulled in with his car. For some reason my hearing is terrible on shrooms, and I can never really make out what anyone is saying. My dad asked me a few things, and thankfully I was able to answer him clearly.
I marched back inside the house, feeling a little off, but not too high. The visuals were decent, as I remember looking at a clock that said 9:15 and the numbers began to swirl and move. They were cute visuals, but nothing that great. I went to my room, locked the door, lay down on my bed, and closed my eyes. Now these visuals were pretty damn amazing. I didn't have any geometric patterns that everyone brags about. I just had very random and crazy visuals in my head, like bright colored squares revolving around some video game's creature's head.
It was really hot, or appeared to be, so I turned on the AC. I then took off my shirt, as I was feeling pretty nasty. I wasn't really sure if I was that hot, or if I was just tripping, but I figured it wouldn't hurt cooling off the place a little bit anyways. I started drinking some water, in hopes that I would cool off. However, I only took a few gulps before I felt as if I was full of water. Obviously I wasn't, but I was too mentally off to do a thing about it.
Then my dad knocked on my door and said he would probably be out most of the week, doing some gambling. Being on shrooms, I felt it almost impossible not to laugh, for I was in such a giddy mood. I smiled quite a bit, and my dad asked me what was so funny. I explained that I thought it was funny that he'd do this, because it was the thing that he would do if he could do it (the thing being gambling and not being around the house that much). He accepted my answer and left me alone.
I closed the door, locking it again, as I hate being disturbed while in the middle of something, especially a heavy psychedelic trip. I sat down on my chair and began to laugh uncontrollably. I giggled to myself, shaking my head, and then began to cry. I didn't know why I was crying, but I began sobbing harder and harder. Then I laughed again, as I had no clue why I was crying. Some pretty strange emotions if you ask me.
I wasn't really sure why I started crying then. Maybe I felt that I wasn't really that close to my dad or I felt alone or something, I really had, and have, not clue why I broke down. This is when things spiraled out of control, and my insanity took place.
I resumed crying and began to have a reason for crying. I wanted to die so badly and end all the bullshit in my life, but I knew I couldn't. I began arguing in my head with anyone who opposed my death and I created the argument of want. It was what I wanted verse what they wanted, and what I wanted was more important to me than what they wanted. I felt it was pretty bogus that people's wants held me back and I never really could do anything I wanted.
At the time, my visuals were pretty minor. All I had was swirling colors and shapes swaying left and right; no breathing walls, no major distance distortions, no nothing. It had been thirty minutes since my first visuals, and these visuals varied only a little bit. This trip was definitely going to be a purely mental one, as I was already experiencing the first stages of it.
I was sobbing still, and had to take a piss; the first of many that night. I went back to my chair and kept asking why I wasn't allowed to die. I posted on Bluelight that question, but knew that nobody would be able to answer my question. Now I had become even more down, and wanted some answers.
At first, I decided to call one of my friends. I picked up the phone, dialed his number, and hung up as soon as he answered. I then decided to call my shrink, as he told me to call him whenever I needed to. I guessed that this was one of those times, and began looking for my phone. I looked in my closet, my bathroom, on my desk, everywhere, but I couldn't find it. How fucking ironic, I thought. Even though I was crying, I began laughing my ass off because I couldn't find my phone at such a crucial time.
I was pretty hot at the time, and stripped down to the bare nude. It actually felt pretty good. I suggest anyone who's tripping to follow your impulses (unless you're insane) and get naked.
Anyways, I began tearing up my room, literally. I was so desperate to find this phone. I took my laundry basket and dumped it on the floor in hopes that my cell phone was in there. Naked, I threw my clothes left and right frantically looking for my cell phone. I was out of luck and could not find it there. I laughed to myself again, thinking how funny it was that such a small object was so important now.
Nature called me again, and I took another piss in the bathroom. I then looked around in the bathroom, in hopes of finding my phone. No such luck, of course. I went back in my closet to look around for it,and came up empty handed. I started to think that fate, God, luck, whatever, made the phone disappear and wanted me to suffer for the rest of my trip.
Feeling beaten, I sat down on my chair, and lifted up a wash cloth for the hell of it that was on my desk. Lo and behold, my damn cell phone was under it! I had trashed the place thoroughly, not completely, when I could have found it right with no trouble at all. For some reason, I didn't think of cleaning up the place; I just left all my clothes scattered around the room.
I typed in the number to call my shrink on my house phone, as I had no service in my room with my cell phone. However, after a few rings, I became so frustrated, for reasons unknown, and threw down the phone in anger. "Fuck it all," I thought. I felt pretty hopeless, and went back online to see if anyone had answered my post. The same guy who had told someone else to pick up a heroin addiction told me to do the same, and I became pretty annoyed at him. I wrote up some post, basically telling him off, and felt better afterwards.
Somehow, I had some transition from feeling terrible to feeling great. I realized that because I wanted death, I was basically invincible. People fear death all the time, and that limits their actions. However, I could do anything I wanted to, as I didn't fear death at all; I wanted it.
I logged onto AIM and began chatting with a few friends. I explained how I had beaten the system. Which system? The system of life. Because I accepted everything, nothing could go wrong. I didn't want anything, and I didn't not want anything, I just wanted. It was beautiful. I told them all, "I just want, and that would make me perfect."
Then I began equating myself to God, as I was able to beat the system of life. Because I accepted everything like He did, and because I simply wanted, I was God. I felt so powerful, as I was able to do anything I wanted to. Then I started posting on Bluelight, asking advice on how to be God. I went back to my IM's to chat about want and how I was set for life.
Then my insanity took another peak. I decided I wanted to go out in a field of glory, possibly getting shot up and being in the newspaper - a great way to get famous. I posted that on Bluelight, and began Instant Messaging a good chunk of my buddy list. I talked to a lot of people I hadn't talked to in a long time, saying pretty random shit. Like I talked to one girl and told her I had a thing for her in 9th grade, asking if she had a boyfriend and the like.
Then I talked to another friend and basically told him to piss off and tell everyone at school that I was God. Another friend and I were talking and joking around, and I laughed pretty hard at his jokes. In fact, I laughed really hard at everything; I was in a great mood.
Except I had to take another piss. I thought to myself, "Damn, this piss is pissing me off," and started laughing hysterically. I began to applaud the makers of the English language, saying how witty they were for making up the word piss and it's definitions. After taking a wizz, I went back to the computer to chat some more.
My visuals were still very little, while my mind state was not. I had concluded in my mind that I was insane, for I actually was. I didn't care though, it felt great. Everybody has their own reality, right? I forgot who said that, but I concluded that my reality was great, even if I was insane. What was so bad about being delusional? I was God, and that was all that mattered.
I went back to Bluelight and made a bunch of other random posts, basically talking out of my ass as I had become insane. I thought to myself to break into a gun store to do one of two things. One, go out in a field of glory and get shot up by some pigs, or two, live of my own on the streets, basically doing nothing. The latter sounded better, and I decided I would do that as soon as I was done chatting on the computer.
I managed to piss off a good number of people that night, and got a few of them to block me. However, the other people that I was talking to, without saying complete shit, had great conversations with me. Usually I'm terrible at conversations, just awful. But now I could schmooze with whoever and have a good time.
My friend who sold me the shrooms then called me to ask how the shrooms were. I told him that I was God and how hard I was tripping, and he just laughed. He then told me about his shroom trips, and how he always got nauseous on them. Before, he said he never tripped before, but now he was telling me the truth. It seemed that these shrooms allowed me to connect better with people, as I was being more open and talkative ?something I'm not at all while sober.
After hanging up the phone, I had to test myself to see if I truly was unstoppable. I wanted to make sure I could do anything I wanted to, and sure enough I was able to. I had to take another piss, these shrooms made my bladder out of control, and I got up from my chair and took a piss in the middle of my room. I didn't even feel bad about it; I just turned around and went back to chatting on the computer.
Talking began to become very boring, as nobody had anything interesting to say. I closed up Bluelight and AIM, and loaded up a computer game. I couldn't stop talking, and I talked massive shit while I was online. I mean I was joking around with everybody, I wasn't trying to be mean to anyone.
I also had incredibly logic while online, despite my state of insanity. I could argue with anyone and easily win the argument, stating points that were very clear - much clearer than when sober.
By now it was midnight, and I had thoroughly trashed myself. I had spit everywhere, as I didn't give a fuck about anything, and pissed on the floor. I wanted to talk more shrooms and go incredibly insane, but they just tasted too damn nasty. I guess that was a good thing, as if I had eaten more I probably would have gone out and pulled some stupid stuff.
Now I had realized how big of a mess I made, and what a big mistake I made. I really began to regret messing up my room this badly, and wondered how in the hell I was able to do that. Tired and pissed off as hell, I knew I had to clean up the room before the day was over. The thoughts about death began to enter my mind again, and really wanted to die, again.
But, I knew I couldn't give up and just go to bed. After many pauses and short breakdowns, I finally cleaned up my room. I was exhausted, and decided to go to sleep. I lay down in my bed, but I was still wide awake. Damn, not this again. Last time I shroomed and tried to go to sleep I was unable to, and had to stay up a few hours. The same thing happened here, and I was up for at least another two hours, laying uncomfortably in my bed with a nice headache.
Two interesting things happened in bed, though. First, I had no clue of direction at all, being that I didn't know up from down from left from right. I mean, I knew that I was lying on a bed, but I had no clue where anything was located. I could have been lying on the wall for all I knew. The second thing was that I could make myself think that I was a square piece of paper, like a blotter paper. Somehow my mind flattened me and my world out, and I became 2D. I could not feel any part of my body - I was only aware of my mind. I thought this would help me fall asleep, but I was doomed to stay up another few hours.
I decided to lie down in bed and not move at all. After what seemed like hours, I woke up the next morning with no recollection of falling asleep, or even being close to sleep. However, I did have some very intense dreams that were quite random. I woke up with a TERRIBLE headache, one that I've never experienced before. The day after, Monday, was spent recuperating from this interesting trip.
Well, now I know what it's like to be insane. I'm not sure if my report painted you the picture of insanity, but I don't suggest anyone trying to go insane. I honestly don't know what to say after this trip. I mean, the only thing I gained from this trip is that the only thing I want I cannot get, which is death, and that insanity is NOT fun. Oh yeah, eyeballing doses is not the best idea; especially when you don't know how potent your shrooms are.
My dad just walked in while I was writing my report and asked me if I was on anything Sunday night. Oops, I guess I didn't hide it too well. Oh well, at least he doesn't know what happened inside my room.
Still, two days after, I feel a little scattered and a little confused. Yeah, I'm pretty damn confused actually. Maybe some more shrooms? Hah... maybe another time. I still gotta get back my sanity and fix up a few messes I made online. Bah, too much rambling in a trip report. Sorry this isn't my style, but I'm too scattered right now too pull myself together and type up a truly great report.
Anyways, as your new God, I command you to write some comments.
