Acid Trip #3: Quantum Solstice

Greetings fair psychonauts and my brothers and sisters in humanity! I'm still somewhat unplugged as I start this account. I'll try to give the pertinent background as concisely as I can.

My friend C and I were waiting to have adequate funds to procure a vial, but it had been more than long enough since tripping last that we wanted to get with lucy as soon as possible. C figured that summer solstice would be a good time to take the plunge again, so he got 6 liquid hits, 3 hits each on two sugar cubes. Others who'd had the same batch said they couldn't remember what happened, except that the sunrise was gorgeous. C didn't know what that meant about the cid quality. I just figured it was good acid and did the job. He was also sitting on two paper hits, each with two drops (presumably. if i could subjectively gauge the dosage I'd say I took between 600-750 micrograms:cheers2.

We had wanted to trip with J at his house, but he never seemed to believe in the potential of the acid experience, and since the trip is what you make of it, we would be tripping with a guy who would inevitably effect our trips, potentially stifling the experience for all. I'd be happy to trip with him if he's ever willing to believe that there's more to acid than what he currently perceives.

We had considered going to the beach but elected to ask another brother, H, if we could use his little apartment for the day. He complied, but not before joshing us a bit on the possible scenarios of two high-dosed acidheads alone in someone else's apartment. I told him to see into my Id and to not worry, or something like that.

I'm sure H wondered how the hell we intended to have a good trip with almost nothing to do. All I needed was weed and my mp3 player. C had brought spiritual idols and art books.

We dosed at around 9:45 am and H came out of his room 45 minutes later to go to work. I was already flowery at that point and waved him on his way saying "fair brother!" We just threw ourselves into it, with no plans or intentions and I didn't care what happened and didn't expect anything like the last two trips, except playing some of the same songs, expecting certain results but not acquiring them, but that was why I threw many random songs on there, not knowing what I'd respond to. A song by the band Air sent pebbly waves of love through my frame. I look out the first floor window at a fern that was being tended to by a bee. I felt peace all through me, and felt that no matter how I tripped, life was carrying on everywhere, and that all will be well on planet Earth. This place is our creation, and though we might play with reality, we will return to the creation that we prefer.

I felt that this was going to be a powerful and lengthy trip since only an hour in I was so aware of the energies around me, and could adjust to the vibe of each song and groove involuntarily in its own frequence. At this time C was shaking or quivering. I wasn't worried; he looked like his whole body was undergoing what my eyes went through at the onset of my second trip. He was becoming open to the energy frequencies around him, and his tabernacle was acting as a lightning rod for them.

The strength of feeling was so great so early, that I was pretty uncertain about what would happen to me during the peak. The loops where you think you're going to break through only to return to lucidity weren't too bad because I kept smoking dank weed and stayed smooth. I laughed at how bold we were tripping this way. who did we think we were? I just knew we'd make it good and we were just going to unplug the circuits and see how far out this thing goes. Do ever hear your other self laughing at you on a trip? I usually laugh with it.

I'll get more into the trip in the next post. I could type enough to fill 11 pages, or I could keep it to 3. Everything I type is a gift to myself. The best things you can get come from you as well. I had so much control of the experience just by having no expectations and my definitions of right and wrong ways to trip were revised if not annihilated. Peace to you all

 

I really can't say when the peak occured. It was like the peak started 1.5 hours in and didn't stop till after 10 hours or so. But somewhere in the beginnings of it, H's roommate came home and looked at us weird, surprised to see us. I was sitting in the lotus position at the time. C didn't know whether H told him we were tripping at their house all day, so C took his tripfaced self and told the guy that H said we could take acid and spend the day there. C took a lot of nonexistent scenarios and felt that they were occurring, like the guy was upset about it or something. Eventually C said "I'm probably just tripping myself out aren't I?" and the guy nodded in agreement.

He left 30 minutes later. it reminded me of how life is: that everyone wants to just do their own thing and may feel that others want to interfere with it, when others just want to do their own thing as well. People in that circle of friends in Portland don't see psych drugs as any big deal. If we were sticking needles in our arms the guy might have complained.

The ocean of energy felt turbulent at that point. We were hearing the neighbors in other apartments making noises and I didn't know if someone was knocking on the door and would've tripped myself out bad if I didn't remind myself that we don't need to answer the door; we're not even there. After that I was comfortable with the fact that I was in a box stacked under other boxes with creatures tucked away, wanting what I wanted, to be left alone.

We hadn't totally smoothed ourselves out yet. it was fun to ricochet from one thought or emotion to another and feel all these extremes of humanity. Most were enjoyable, but when I dipped my toe into a sea of loneliness and depression I decided I didn't want to dive into that one, and instead suggested that C and I sit on the floor, backs against each other like two soldiers in an unwinnable battle. I don't know how he took it, but my back against his felt like I was pressing up against my other self, the one that resides on the other side of the interdimensional mirror, the one that laughs at me and corrects me and has been an unspoken voice throughout my life.

It was difficult to maintain balance with that exercise, so I tried laying on my back with my legs on a chair. I tried different sorts of calming music but they made me feel like I was sinking in an unpleasant way. I flipped around the dial on the music player and a country song by Lonestar started, called Amazed. My first instinct was to change it asap. that was my wife's music and I don't know how it got there. But something told me to give it a shot and as soon as te voice started singing, it was like my wife and I singing it to each other inside me:

Every time our eyes meet
This feeling inside me
Is almost more than I can take
Baby when you touch me
I can feel how much you love me
And it just blows me away
I've never been this close to anyone or anything
I can hear your thoughts
I can see your dreams

I don't know how you do what you do
I'm so in love with you, it just keeps getting better
I wanna spend the rest of my life with you by my side
Forever and ever
Every little thing that you do
Baby I'm amazed by you

The smell of your skin
The taste of your kiss
The way you whisper in the dark
Your hair all around me, baby you surround me
You touch every place in my heart
Oh, it feels like the first time every time
I wanna spend the whole night in your eyes

Normally really corny, it shattered my sense of self and pure surges of universal love-waves tore through me, one after the other, like a series of earthquakes. After each one surged, my human frame felt dissipated and sucked dry. I didn't know how I survived it. I couldn't hold back the tears and C had to ask if I was okay. I assumed I was.

Not only was the song a commentary on the nature of my r'ship with my wife, but my r'ship with my other self, the universal one, Lucy, whatever name it is. Just like I don't know how my wife does what she does, I don't know how lucy does it either. I didn't put that country song on there, yet the love breakthrough I normally seek wasn't attainable until this song came on. Just like other peaks, I had to be totally stripped of control and transcendence came through surprising media. Just like my wife, Lucy is capable of astounding and wonderful things when I don't seek to control it and set aside my ego and capacity to comprehend.

Some other energy waves I accessed left room for my conceptual mind, and thus the presence of the universal energy didn't flood me nearly as much. The love frequency was so powerful I couldn't do anything else but be seized, and I swore my body would burst. I felt thoroughly cleansed even on a cellular level by those volatile waves, and they set an amazingly confident precedent for the remainder of the trip. I didn't know what C was up to during that, I just told him I had to give in to the love, which became a habit for the trip because the intensity lasted so long and my cyclical self always resorted to giving in to the love.

 

The love-quakes put control of the trip in my hands, consistent with other trips. It's always surprising that I seek to control it until I convince myself that to control is to be out of control and somehow I find a way to give myself up and am filled with purity, and consequently that power enables me to control the trip, whether to be bathed in supreme love or to converse or trip out on art, anything goes after that. Being imbued with that love also gives me a feeling of starting anew, a fresh palette. Like I had my whole life ahead of me; usually I smoke a bowl at that point since I tend to smoke when I'm the most content and stable.

I got lost in a poster of Pink Floyd's dark side of the moon. Simple enough with a sober eye, but with a head full of acid it's a stage for revelations. The white beam is the raw energy of the universe and the rainbow of colors after it passes through the prism is the collective manifestations of that power through fixed tabernacles; us, animals, trees, or a prism. It reminded me of my wife's mystical visuals on E, which were a series of figures representing her, and a satellite figure quietly supporting it which represented me (A cat being stroked by it's owner, Queen Elizabeth I with a supporting male figure in the background, an Indian chieftan with a teepee behind him supporting his mortal self, an island with an impressive glass building in the middle of an ocean and a smaller island in back with a rainforest on it). in Pink Floyd's rendition I was the simple white light powering my wife's tabernacle, that made her shine forth beautiful colors in the world in which she wants to be great, and the opposite as well; she was the simple white light plugged into the back of my consciousness that made it possible for me to shine in my world. i was never as free a spirit when I was single, and when I was with a counterpart such as my wife, my spirit soared so free that I often forgot that she was quietly powering me in the background.

In my first two trips, it hurt my head to fixate on physical objects, but this is only because it was a low dose. With this higher dose I visually played with objects all around me. The ceiling was simliar in style to the sistine chapel; but I saw mounds and multitudes of people all on top of each other, struggling for position as they kicked and shoved, but only got more intertwined with each other. Everyone with their efforts to be recognized and validated were ever-tightening their bonds to each other, and my mind's eye zoomed out of the discord to reveal an additional dimension to it; all the bodies and their accompishments made up a whole other creature that is invisible to the human eye. The creature smiled wider and wider as the humans it consisted of struggled and fought for the love of themselves and of their own worlds, the more numerous the humans were, and the more energy they put forth, the bigger and grander and more aware the collective creature became. It surprised me so much when that creature came into view, but it was instantly "right", like it was so obvious and it was there all the time.

My vision was indicating to me a homogenous liquid nature to everything around me. The room would ripple as different things came into my awareness. You might say when I chose to look at something, and my brain matched its frequency, the related quantum realites rippled around it, as if there and not there. It was like I almost chose those other quantum possiblities beside the fixed one, and that I only knew it was "there" because most of my ego was still active. Most of me chose to see the things I saw, and the other part of me vaguely saw the potential realities surrounding it.

I hadn't plunged into that sea of nothingness that I knew was there, but that sea seemed to be flooding the room around me. I sat on the couch and decided I would let the sea completely flood my fixed self and drown out the ego. 311 was playing in my ears, and I just let my head go side to side to the beat and cleared my mind. I could feel the vacant waters enter my feet and migrate up my legs. It was neither warm nor cold, it just was. I slowly gave up control and feeling of each part of my body as the waters climbed up me. I could feel my ego racing around my torso, which wasn't yet submerged. My other self gently embraced my ego, my identity, my routine self, and cradled it like a baby, softly indicating that we would be together again; that this happened before, but this time would be easier because the dose was high and the light was clear. I gently let the remaining bits of ego funnel into my left arm and with a dismissive flip of the index finger, let my ego go and at the same time "flipped the switch" for the purest ego dissolution I've had yet. the bobbing of my head became wholly involuntary. I knew it was moving but I wasn't doing it. It was simply bobbing up and down in the waves of the quantum sea. It was like I was floating on water, but I was the water. There wasn't a feeling up being held up by it or weighed down by it. My whole self was flooded, adrift in our collective quantum soup.

Before I felt more like a cell among cells in a giant organism, but this was like the cells were all dissolved and were a an endless sea. Before I felt a defined curved nature to the edges of my awareness, like I could feel the curvature of the earth. But this dissolution was without edges, it was just an endless sea. I was a raindrop before, and I was dripped into this ocean, my skin dissolving and the distinction between the raindrop and the ocean was nonexistent.

As lost as my identity was in this sea, I felt like there was a reflection bouncing off me. Some energy source hit my insignificant self and was diffused into some kind of more visible energy or light. It was like I wouldn't have been aware that I existed unless I got a little piece of this energy hitting me and bouncing off to form a visible meaning that I could behold in some sense.

Feeling like I was the sea is so impossible to explain. Any word I can use is what it was not. It wasn't bad good sad happy light dark or any other descriptions. It just was, a nothingness. And the reflection...any word I could use is what it was. It was everything. All I could feel were quantum ripples gently ebbing and flowing, and all I was aware of was the reflected energy bouncing off me, which was subtle. It was like my entire identity and life was one glimmer of diffused sunlight off an ocean surface, joined by trillions of other sparkles bouncing off.

As C came back into the room I expected him to not see me, and to trip about where I was. I was so immersed in this quantum sea that I assumed I was invisible. But he spoke to me, and I reassembled enough to communicate. Thanks to the high dose, that act didn't tear me away from that incredible dissolution. I chose to do something else after a bit, and I didn't feel forcefully ejected from that sea, I only felt like I was rising up out of it to take shape of something, and could dissolve back into it. I wish I could put words all over it, but any description is exactly what it was not.

What an empowering yet dissolving trip this was. I could say everything and I could say nothing, but for fun I'll keep posting. It was like all the other trips I'd read about came together in one. From the spiritual to the frivolous to the musical to the philosophical. All I can say is thanks to the hipforum community that provided a precedent for me to realize that an acid trip, like life, is whatever you want it to be and you can be or do anything and you're still stoking the fire of life. You all surround me as I surround myself. TBC

 

wouldn't ya know it, I caught a bug or something in Portland and am now sick. It's been interesting because I can actually phase into a non-sick self. I revert back to my illness but after more faith and practice I could will away disease. I started doing that before I ever took Lsd with my chronic headaches. I went through so many disgusting and discombobulating medicines that I gave up on getting any help from the docs, and just thought "what if I just pretend my headaches don't exist?" and they started getting better. Then I had LSD and they improved dramatically because I felt the validity of the exercise so much that my belief in it solidified and I could will away the headaches with full confidence.

There are so many things I could write, the hard part is knowing which one to pick. It's like someone asks you for an example of a general statement you just made and you can't even pick one because there are so many to choose from. After being dissolved into that sea, I had such comfort and confidence about the rest of that trip and life itself because I knew we were all just subtly different waves in an invisible sea; that this life was just one of an infinite amount of possible lives and we create it because it suits us best. Knowing you created the world makes you see it with more loving eyes.

I can still feel the sea's waves penetrate to my center and it's incredibly peaceful. I can put on a piece of music and those waves adjust to the frequency of the music and I feel like I'm right there with that artist in his cultural milieu. If it was tribal music I felt like I was there in the jungle seeing the tribesmen's headdresses and grass skirts, and they were moving in perfect synch with each other to the music, realizing their oneness. My friend saw 311 recently and I didn't, but I could listen to them on headphones and could actually be there with the band and the crowd, and even ride the waves of SA Martinez's vocals. I never really listened to those lyrics, and not only did I become one with them, I saw the motivation behind them and felt like I was of the same chemistry of SA Maetinez himself, as a product of his environment and perceptions.

During the trip I was eager to experience hendrix with my crazy acid head, especially since anything with a beat on my lower dose trips either hurt my head or made me think my heart was beating too fast. But absolutely anything went, nothing was off the table on this plateau. I gotta tell ya, Jimi is more brilliant a composer than most of the classical artists from the 18th cent. He got inside me, bounced around my head, sent lightning down my frame...It was like Jimi was playing paddle ball with his guitar and I was the ball attached to the string and he was bouncing me back and forth into the cosmos. I'd reach the edge and wonder what was happening only to whiz back to see Jimi 's grinning face and tongue sticking out and his tall hair and headband. And he'd say "it's just jimi messin with ya!" I got platonically raped by Jimi's ghost, and I can't say that he ever actually died. If he could do what he did to me that day then he didn't totally die. I think he visits people in their acid visions. He visited me in my first trip and I didn't even listen to his songs.

At some point we felt we might be lucid enough to take a walk outside, but thinking about whether it was okay to leave H's apartment unlocked, and whether to bring water, wallet, phone, etc. sent us into circles of madness and I had to lay down and graft myself back into a state of nothingness, to start anew. I didn't think we were ready to go outside yet, and since we having such a good time, it didn't really matter. I knew we could just walk right out and be fine but what was the hurry?

I'm totally unorganized with what to type, i'm just throwing down the first things that come to mind, It helps me re-live the experience I guess.

 

to anyone who feels like they have body aches or anomalies before ego death, like your chest tightening or heart racing: maybe take a higher dose? I felt like ego death occured over and over but it was only me sacrificing my thoughts because an undesired energy got too great, but I never felt body aches or short of breath or anything. I was really ballsy with different thoughts and creepy songs and I would enjoy all the forms of energy they produced, even negative angles. But once in a while, loneliness and depression crept into the scene and I don't like those guys even for a little bit. But I still appreciated it, like I wanted to reach out to those depressed in the world and take their emotion on myself and replace it with a positive one. It has to be hell on earth to actually be depressed all the time. I thought then I was trying to do something that they say Jesus did, and decided I'm allowed to have fun and let people's anger and sadness stoke the fire.

Man i'm so glad for the herb and especially on an acid trip. On a trip I do a sacramental ritual with it where I hold in the smoke and slowly release the it, clearing my mind and imagining the soul of my identity leaving my body with the smoke. As the smoke left, the universal one entered. It was a gesture of brotherhood between C and me to pass the bong back and forth, and it helped us reset and tune into the same frequency if we were too far out on some other shite because we each had our own headphones, etc. It was immensely comforting to see the fire hit the greens and combusted through me in waves of warmth and harmony.

damn i'm crashing right now. I just freakn love acid and I can't ever stop talking about it and even though it can get crazy, each trip makes me love it more. At one point C even said he didn't think he could trip anymore, and as he came down was already talking about getting more. Charlie Parker lives!

 

Another great one!!! Well done!

I am so glad you understand now how much easier is with higher dose. I still say anything under 300ugs just keeps you on the edge, from 500ugs up only than you know Lucys beauty!

Now you are touching the depth of that see!
About curing yourself, I am also doing it for a long time. You just refuse to be sick, belive that nothing hurts and that you are perfectly healthy and it goes away.

Another thing, you said that now you can listen to the "harder" music while tripping. Maybe you can try next time that Shpongle album that I recomended you last time. It will allow you to dive deeper in the ocean of love. Any psytrance music, but him specially. That rythm and repetition put you in a trance, psychedelic trance and you start projecting your self in other dimensions, existing in many of them simultaniously.
But, you must discover that on your own.
Keep up the good work!

 

oh yeah I crammed my player with shpongle and listened often; I don't know how they do it, but I was dissolved by them. my bones and organs came apart and danced with each other in perfect circles. the female voice they have sometimes seemed like it guided me through outer space. it was great because not only did they not hurt my head like last time, but they showed me that what I think of as pain is really just a projection of my mind. the brain doesn't really know the difference between an event and a memory, so if I just forget pain, it doesn't exist. I felt like a sleeping giant and all my innards came alive on their own and partyed together in plain view for me to see. I might have thought it was scary, but it was soothing. I always want to take a high dose; you can do anything. I want to keep typing and I will when I get over this bug, whether I can do it today idk. thanks for posting shifter.

 

OH man glad to see someone who enjoys the beauty in excess. Next time you should listen to Jimi Hendrix' "bold as love" (the song not album). The last solo will take you to another place.

 

Check out Black Moth Super Rainbow next time you trip "Lost, picking flowers in the woooooods!"
God Bless ~

 

right on thanks for the tips. I love how open I am at this point. I thought I was all hardcore before for tripping on 2 gels, which were powerful rebirthings, but the high dose put control of the trip square in my lap. If you "believe" in quantum theory, control of sober reality is squarely in your lap as well. I can see how people have a hard time knowing they are in complete control. The only limits are knowing what you want I guess. I wanted to not be sick today, and I feel better already. Rather than taking dayquil or sudafed, I assumed some yerba mate tea and vitamins and food would restore me and with that and the faith that I control my health, the world around me became brighter and more accessible.

I'm listening to black moth super rainbow right now. tight beats, clean harmonies, my acid world would soar and pour with these tunes.

 

Nice! Yea they are a wonderful band for any time really, but during a psychedelic trip they take on a whole new level
And about being sick and healing, man that's the way to go burnabowl. A friend of mine said the other week, to allow the pain into your bodily temple, let it hang out for awhile and get to know each other, and watch as it moves on. Determining the root of pain and sickness can hasten the healing tremendously, and only by observing the pain without allowing it to rule us can we find where it's origin is.

 

nice, that reminds me of something Ram Dass said about anger coming into his tabernacle. He would allow it to come in, and cradle it in his mind gently like a baby until it flew away on its own. I've been doin that with the illness and with frustrating emotions from getting back into the routine with 2 little kids. I'm still somewhat of a little kid, so when they were acting up, to avoid anger I'd look somewhere else for an adult to take care of us. I knew I was the only one so I took the difficult emotions and embraced them like they were a baby and they would depart. the daily routine with the kids requires a lot of multi-tasking and juggling of thoughts and priorites. When I was stuck in my body, I couldn't do it and had to go into my head to the control deck and then I could perform with laser-like accuracy.:coolgleamA:
*****

So we eventually felt we were okay to go outside, and even though I was having loads of fun, C wanted to take a walk and I was glad to go with him. I figured it would be best to just go and not wonder about what to bring, to shed all worldly facades. We just made sure the door was closed and went on our way. I was clinging to the thought that everyone outside is doing exactly what we're doing and we don't need to be sketchy. C was getting his sweatshirt out of his car even though the temp was in the 80's. After realizing this, he figured he was just nervous about being around the public, and wanted a protector, which led him to wonder how anything gets done in this world with how squeamish modern people are about each other and about being themselves.

We started walking through some of the same neighborhoods I traversed as an LDS missionary, and now I was an LSD missionary :Angel_anim:. We were walking right where my former apartment was, but I couldn't picture the streets around me. The sidewalk was just a cartoon tunnel, providing fixed footing for us to pass through the quantum sea; like those aquariums that you walk underneath in your own air tunnel and you see the ocean life surrounding you. I felt like a lost little kid, even with C there who'd been raised in the area. It confused me that C was walking fast; where did he get the motivation to walk so fast away from H's house? I had to ask him if we could slow down cuz weren't we walking for it's own sake? So he did, then I realized he probably had a circular route in mind leading back to H's, which he did. I then understood and said it's okay to walk fast.

We turned the first corner and the world changed accordingly. Now the sun was against the side of my face rather than behind me, which tossed me into another realm. I felt parched and fatigued and didn't want to walk anymore. It was like being stranded in the sahara. I figured I was tougher than that and left my body for my mind. I imagined I wasn't physically there, but was only in a virtual reality controlled by my self in some remote control room. At that point my legs started moving themselves and I picked up the pace effortlessly. I felt like I was surfing at that point and was rushing to the end of the sidewalk.

We turned another corner and this time I was shaded by gorgeous and noble Oregon birch and maple trees. This was the street I'd lived on as a mormon missionary. There were young mexican girls selling lemonade, but they darted away when they saw us and we walked through the remains of their abandoned lemonade stand. That was just weird.

I kept practicing going back in my head since every time I took a step, my foot could feel the invisible layers of other quantum versions of the sidewalk and as my foot struck solid ground, it felt as if it sank into the sidewalk, into more layers of quantum possibility underneath. I was astounded yet knew it was true: the only reason the sidewalk existed was because it was what my mind most expected to exist. Most of me still expected my foot to land on the sidewalk, but I could feel that I had many quantum choices of what my foot would land on, or whether I even had a foot. If I tried hard, I didn't feel myself walking at all, I just put my body on autopilot and my consciousness existed somewhere else.

We made the final turn to get back to H's and I was excited to meditate again and C was saying that he left the apartment expecting something to come to him when all he needed was already in the apartment. I greedily drank water and busted into the groceries we'd brought. I thought I had gotten smoked salmon but it was just precooked with a sauce all over it. I just needed protein, why was it drenched in pretense?! C winced at the smell of fish and I was reeking up the apartment so I started getting weird and angry and I couldn't find a plate, and C told me that there aren't any, that this may as well be Bosnia. This comforted me because it was better to do it without plates and just eat the thing. I felt like a wild animal tearing into it and eating its flesh, but after I consumed it I was a new man and had a singular strength.

But I knew the fact that I was covered in sweat and fish stink made me want to take a shower. I hesitated getting in front of the mirror naked, but it was some kinda sight. I looked like I'd evolved into a celestial state, and broken the cocoon of mortality and was now a savior to the world. This thought humbled me, because I remember the first time Allen Ginsberg ate Hoffman's psilocybin extract at Leary's house, he'd felt the need to get naked and reveal the true self, and to shed his clothes and wander Leary's house even with his daughter there. It was his first act as Savior to the world. The way Ginsberg saw it, anyone and everyone could be a savior to themselves and others, and he thought he might as well be one and unashamed nakedness was a plausible choice as a first act.

The shower might have been more soothing if I could work the controls better. I felt like I was stuck on an alien spaceship, had killed my captors and had to figure out their weird alien hand controls, and with each mistake the little pod ricocheted and careened around the wilderness of space. It was actually loads of fun. be back later, humans!

 

Damn my paranoia. I looked out the window and saw a cop van parked by our mailbox, and another one parked on the street just out the kitchen window and I was thrown into a panic that I was being staked out and shut off all the grow lights and hid my bong and sat hunched over on the floor with my 1 year old. I tried letting go of the situation and left my body. Then I realized I was only tripping because they wouldn't be so obvious if they were staking me out. I looked at them closer and saw that they were doing a traffic survey or something and so I went and turned on the grow lights and told the plants they were going to be okay.
*****


Man it's great to be barefoot on acid, but I wouldn't have realized that if I wasn't wearing shoes all day. Even though I took a shower, the room and the world still felt muggy, hot and oppressive. I thought I was just tripping because of the outside heat and the wet shower. I couldn't groove with tunes on the floor because the hot humidity was uncomfortable. I thought it was a perfect time for sounds of the rainforest. It started out with toucans and what not making jungle noises and the rain started softly and I imagined myself as the ground under the canopy. As the rain noise picked up and phased out the animals, I could actually smell the rain and feel it rinsing me out. When it ended, I was almost shivering from the mental rainstorm and felt completely cleansed, and it was one of those feeling of starting anew and wondering what to do, then the answer is "to live."

I had no idea how C was tripping and his body language indicated he was tense and uncomfortable. I knew many good methods to turn your trip right, but explaining them to my friend was an arduous chore, and didn't work out. I think the only reason he wasn't tripping well was because he might have felt bad that we had to do our trip in the city in someone's tiny dirty apartment. I didn't know how he didn't know that I was having an incredible time, and tried explaining that. I just realized that if I wanted him to trip well, all I needed to do was trip well myself, and somehow indicate the fact non-verbally. He seemed to think everything I was doing I was just settling for it, that I preferred something else, and he kept needed to remind himself that the trip comes from you, not to you.

So we rotated from meditating on our own, to sharing a bong of brotherhood, to discussing stuff, to being awestruck by Alex Grey on H's computer and other psych artists. The one I attached won't be new to anyone, but that fucker did so much before my eyes and through my center. I couldn't actually distinguish the main guy in the painting. he wasn't there at all, just an intricate field of quantum possibilities that transcend thought and language. Alex Grey and Hendrix are equally good at captivating you, just through different media.

We didn't require a set routine, but conducting our trips in that exoteric way helped C to see that I was tripping well and he tripped better because of it. Often I'd get weirded out by something and would have to go lay on the floor with tunes to reset myself. It had been at least eight hours since it all kicked in, and I didn't feel like I was any straighter than when the peak started. It was one long peak and I seriously wondered if I would return to normality, but then I remembered that's a common thing for a tripper to think. But I called my wife because she'd be expecting me to come down and I didn't tell her yet that I took a huge dose. So I called her to let her know I was fine but I couldn't speak normally. Just to refer to the Lonestar song was almost impossible. When my wife started talking about how her mom was there I freaked a little because of my grow and I had to leave myself to realize that my wife would do everything that I would do if I were there to remove clues of a grow, etc. I couldn't return to normal reality yet, which was great; just meant more meditating into the universe and going on journeys with a song. I really wish I could somehow convey the visions; it's like trying to count all the planks of wood on a roller coaster if you're counting it. We need a camera that records everything you see on a trip. One song that made us fly was "A Gentle Sound" by Railway Children

 

Inserted at the end of each of our activity loops was me "giving in to the love." I went back to that country song for it, and used many others. It required letting the song in to yourself, to let go of all else. At that point you become the artist, the message, the music. It didn't matter what culture it was. As hard as it was to speak to each other in English, I could convey whole epics to my friend by means of a song. Kinda like the planet we live on; it's near impossible for all of us on earth to speak linguistically, but the language of music and art transcends those barriers to the point that you see that we're all comprised of the same stuff, and our most cherished and indigenous values are all the same thing, just cloaked in the masks of culture and separatism- some we inherit, some we create.

Each of these loops was a compressed lifetime, which ended with confusion and mayhem and started with flooding peace and love and overwhelming sense of clean-ness and of rebirthing. I thought that was a pretty good existence we have. As great as love is and as much as we want it, it would get boring if that's all we were, and it requires contrast in order to be rich. It was fun to "forget" the love and be lost in my mind and to rediscover the love again by giving myself up, and it can be fun in mortal life, too. in both cases, it seems so real you forget it's a game.

After tripping uncomfortably and not knowing why, I wondered if my contact lenses had some pollen on them from walking. A simple irritation normally, but it had complete control of my trip. A. parallel occurred to me that my nearsightedness is really an inherited mental illness. My progenitors near-sighted third eye was accompanied by the more literal nearsightnedness of their first two eyes. As a symbolic act of breaking the restrictions of my myopic culture, I took my contacts out and put them in the specialty case (pic attached) and this kinda case holds them so they're above the metal disc which causes a chem reaction which cleans the lenses excellently. But the reaction creates all these bubbles that made me feel as if in the sea again, and as the lenses were getting baptized, my genetic mental nearsightedness felt as if being baptized and purged.

My eyes applauded me; they felt so refreshed they were like a brand new pair. Plus i had the option of blurry vision which enhanced the underwater feeling and clarified my third eye due to no distractions. And then the option of wearing glasses if I wanted gave me a greater feeling of empowerment than anything else.

The psychedelic hubris combined with a growing awareness of hunger led us to make plans to go outside again. Before I had figured it would be fun to go without anything at all, but on this journey I felt like a new man with headphones, wallet and phone. I thought "it's alright if that's what I need to feel like a person." SOmething about the feeling of the wallet and phone against me was immensely comforting, like the floor against my back as I meditate. I just felt more in touch with the feeling of unity when something is pressing against me. each time going outside was a different reality, depending on time of day. It was the summer solstice and we took a lot of cid; Long day all around. I'll type this thought later

 

I know most people tend not to eat on LSD, and I don't know why I think to eat. I don't exactly feel hungry; the hunger is interpreted in bizarre ways, mostly alien trip vibes. But a certain feeling gave it away which was lightheadedness. There is an extent of that feeling to any trip, but something peculiar about this brand of it made me insist that we needed food. I wasn't in any huge rush to eat, so we intended to wander through the suburbs and end up at the 7-11.

It was incredible walking to the sound of music rather than just being open to all external noises. Maybe it's cheating, idk. I was far beyond the point of moralizing behavior on acid trips. Being one with the music reinforced my sense that all around me was a quantum projection field, a holodeck. If all around me appears only because I and my ancestors chose it to appear, then it's easier to not take it so seriously and be so vulnerable to it. People noticed us walking and staring into the world with confidence and wonder. I noticed that somehow it had coincided that C and I were both wearing red shirts and glasses, so maybe that's all it was.

there were 2 girls walking toward us on the opposite side of the street. One had an obviously sexy body so I figured she wouldn't mind being gawked at, but I minded the fact that she looked to be way too young to have that body. I didn't know if it was the cid exaggerating that notion. C was bothered by them and walked faster. I didn't blame him and we went into an even more suburban suburb toward a park. The park is a couple miles long and is also used to divert flood water. I thought it was glorious and didn't mind the other people around; I always felt more comfortable being my druggie self in Oregon. But I guess C felt weird, so we left again.

I only mention this cuz as we were leaving back through the suburbs, the same exact two young hotties were walking again, in the opposite direction on the other side of the street, same as last time. I thought that was a wild trip and went back to observing the wondrous blend of city and earth, but I eventually noticed that C was walking fast and hunched over, eager to get back. I guess those girls tripped him out so I asked if we should just go to 711 for food, and he said no he was just tripping and wanted to get back. I didn't really know how to make him feel better except I offered to go get food for him once we got back. he couldn't say whether he would even eat. I thought whatever and just tried to let good energy flow from me.

After I meditated for a bit when we got back, I noticed C was hunched over in a chair, looking uncomfortable and edgy. I knew there was something I could do for him, but telling him about it wouldn't help. If I tried to help him trip by talking, it would only fuel his bad vibe, which was that he didn't have anything fun for us to do, and that he kept expecting something to come to him and beating himself up by realizing the trip comes from you.

I just said "don't worry, man. don't think," and I rubbed his shoulders for a minute. I suggested he lay down with some gentle tunes, concentrate on the feeling of his back against the mattress, and I'd go get him some food. It was quite possible that hunger might have something to do with his edgy tripping.

C asked if I was okay to go alone and I knew I would be, I didn't even need to take any turns to get to the 711. With music in my ears and love in my heart I walked with a great sense of purpose; I was going to help my friend. It delighted me to see first-generation mexican immigrants and their families enjoying the pleasant evening and playing games, etc. THey knew what a privilege it was to just be. THat's all they want america for.

I knew I was in a tough spot trying to fulfill certain criteria at the 711 which were: source of protein, healthy, easy to eat, and filling. I sorta blended myself into the sev to be guided. The beef jerky wouldn't work. Too chewy and I'd feel like I was chewing on a cow hide. Peanuts, nutri-grain bars, string cheese, apples and bananas all came to me as soon as I wondered what else would be good. If nothing else, maybe eating would just keep him occupied enough to cheer up.

i said "thank you brother" to the cashier and he looked surprised to hear that I think and I was back home before I knew it. C wasn't in the common area so I found him in the dark on H's bed. To my elation, He looked placid and content and I told him of the victuals I'd obtained.

I didn't want to tear him away from his vibes so I just at some of the food and had a yerba mate tea, which totally re-centered me. He joined me a few minutes later and was grateful. I wondered if we had crossed a threshold where we could have just kept tripping off into other dimensions if we wanted to, and wouldn't need to eat and just exist on thought. that seemed like a real choice. But since we have addicted ourselves to the emotions and comfort of our native reality, we naturally would want to stick around for it. i don't think we actually need food to exist, but we want to remain in this dimension and by eating its food, we literally are rebuilding and reintegrating ourselves into that reality.

These thoughts and the food/tea provided a great fusion of abstract and fixed reality, which was good because H's roommate came back home. He looked at me expecting something bizarre, so I just smiled and raised my gourd.

 

This general time between 10 pm and 2 am seem difficult to reconstruct in a linear sense, perhaps due to the new variables of the roommate coming home, and some time later H. I believe we wanted to seclude ourselves to h's bedroom in case the roommate wanted the main area. I learned later on that the roommate resented us being there on acid, since it somehow connected to the fact that he's a dad now. I don't know what it is: I have two kids and I've never felt a duty to forsake all controversial sources of enjoyment. People do this generation after generation, they assume their parents were right about cultural morality and every authentic thing that came from them was merely a youthful indiscretion that they need to leave behind.

In '84 Leary predicted that in '88 the boomers would realize they were the institution and could manifest everything they had wanted in the 60's. He said they'd elect a woman president, and emphasize individual freedom and ingenuity and we'd have cities on the moon by 2000. I dig Leary and his optimism, but I think he overestimated them a trifle. The boomer gen is really big so I can't really generalize them, but they seemed to have carried on most of the old habits.

shit anyway I think I'm just stalling because I can't piece together that part of the night very well. I know we looked at a lot of Alex Grey type art, and actually looked at the art gallery here on HF. It's also really great to look at naked people. Not porn per se, but the use of naked people in art, such as the attached pic. I hope no one is offended, it just seems to be the consensus that people mind a naked female less than they do a naked male, but idk I'm a guy. I also remember the floral patterns on the undressed mattress crawled out from it and invaded the room, the mattress was pulsating and breathing, seeming to be the energy source of this surge of growth. I was glad I was able to enjoy crap like that b/c of the high dose. I remember thinking it was cool if we were in the Haight-Ashbury in the Spring of '67 where if we went outside we'd be surrounded by people who were either on acid or thinking about acid, but I didn't mind where we were b/c I was able to feel in synch with that era by tripping well, and i figured I was there alive for it in some sense. My psychedelic self was a descendent or ramification of the early movement, and I'm as attached to it as a tree branch is attached to the trunk.

So H and his friend came home from a show around 1:30a and we could manage ourselves some, but talking to H and his buddy was not an easy task. They were interested in how the trip went and I wanted to say more than "great!" I said I think Jimi Hendrix is alive, and they looked at me weird. C said something about waterslides. I figured we could do better than that so I tried telling them about the quantum sea into which I was dissolved. I think they grooved on the thought. H said it was time we hit the road, and we didn't know how to take that. I thought about it for a second and realized we'd been there for about 17 hours. It didn't feel that long b/c we were still moderately tripping. I told H he'd been more than generous and we'd get out of his hair. C was reticent to drive so we just decided we'd walk back to his parents house to crash. I was excited to walk in the darkness and cool air as I gathered up the innards of my eviscerated backpack, trusting that I was remembering everything.

We took a shortcut through a high school campus. Walking on a pathway between the baseball and football fields was a stunning trip in the dark. A song was playing in my ears by Xperienced called Ambient 4 which cast a whole other dimension over it all. I wanted to say it was post-apocolyptic or underwater but it was more like it was a parallel universe. Quantum physicists look at sub atomic particles and see them whizzing in and out of visibility. some theorize that where those particles go is a mirrored universe and the people in that universe are wondering where there particles go in and out of. All I can say is that with the song and the city lights making the clouds look orange, I felt I was in a bizzaro world, a counterpart existence. Like the reflection of a tree on a water surface, me and my surroundings were an inverted reflection of another universe, with a similar liquid constitution.

It was quite a world in the Oregon suburbs at night. All the trees and shrubs made it seem like a dimly lit labyrinth, and each corner of neighborhood was a quantum pocket with microcosmic communites. Whole worlds of existence filled as many corners as I could see. w/e, hard to describe. I just felt like there might have gnomes in there. Gnomes always seem to slip into the mix.

We went into C's house and his 'rents had left the light on, which he then turned off, i guess to signify he was home. I thought that his family had a cool equilibrium. They each had a spot around the table to leave their random stuff. The placemat where they each ate was also where they respectively kept their books, etc. He said good night and went to his room and I made my way to their couch that was one of the few that I knew that allowed my 6'1" self to fully stretch out. My glasses were off so could barely see and it was almost fully dark so I felt like I was at the bottom of the ocean, especially since that Xperienced song came on again in my ears. I swam to the couch.

The tunes provided unspeakable roller coasters of visuals in my shut eyes. I felt part of the energy that was racing through all the kaleidoscopic matrices and complex fibrous systems I was seeing. I felt more and more spill out of my subconscious to the point that I felt another state of ego dissolution. Everything I considered to be my life, identity, thoughts, dreams, experiences were on parade. If they were a carousel, I was the solid metal bar in the center of the carousel that made it all go around. But my identity was only a shred of the total carousel, it was a fraction of all the other worlds and cultures and interplanetary relations and they were all swirling together, melting into each other, exploding all over each other. I felt that I surrounded myself, and that I was everything...it's a joke to even try to explain it more and you really have to go through it to understand anyway, so i'm glad many of you already know what I mean.

I know I would have more stellar things to type if I didn't first deal with a sickness and now a heat wave. it's not good thinking weather. But I wanted to write as much and as quicky as I could after the trip and the mundane events spark more remembrance which I find more meaningful later on b/c I was there The day after the trip was eventful to me so i'll type about it later; it all brings it back in a way. C found a good outlet for his trip which is drawing and I think every tripper should have some method of easy expression to themselves so they can be more intimate with their inner counterparts. bye for now and thanks for all the bytes so I can publicly rant.

 

hate to get off point, butwhered u get that contact case? lol.

and did u like tripping with headphone on? i tried doing that and it only seems to work for me if the headphones are really good. otherwise the music feels fake.

 

there's no real topic anyway. I got the case at Walgreen's drug store. It's a pain in the ass b/c you have to wait six hours for the peroxide to neutralize otherwise it burns like no other.

I very much dig the headphones in my ears for trippin. The phones aren't super good, they sorta go around my whole ear for some reason, but it didn't bother me even on the lower dose trips. The mp3 player hangs around my neck and i put the phones in either pocket when I don't use them. C had a better player (his is an ipod 8 gig, mine's a sansa 2 gig) with better phones that plug in to your ear like an earplug and is much more comfortable.

 

Waking up the next morning after having slept a good 7 hours was bitterly disorienting. I was still in a state in which whatever I felt was amplified enormously. Normally when I wake up, there's a brief instance of mindless confusion, of being conscious but not aware (or vice versa). I can't remember what I did the night before or what I was supposed to do today. Usually that feeling is 5 seconds or so, but this post-acid morning i felt it deeply and for a good 3 or 4 minutes. I remembered others who'd had the batch said they forgot most of their trip and I thought I had run into a similar fate. I couldn't remember anything about the trip or how I was supposed to get home. But it all came back to me after carrots and gourd of yerba mate, and I was flooded with positive emotions and became eager to enjoy the new day with a half-sober self and a trip partner to help reinforce and remember the experience.

C's parents were within earshot doing sunday morning christian stuff but it didn't stop us from discussing eastern divine process, Leary and Ram Dass and LSD, how the shiva lingam stone C gave me told quite a story about the universe.

The day was much cooler so we went to the park to do what we wanted to do when tripping face: smoke bowls and speak rhetorically and profoundly. Smoking weed the next day basically makes me trip out again, and I can synch into different wavelengths. C wondered what the waves were that he felt, whether it was a sensation produced by a gland in the body. I told him I thought they were what resulted in the absence of ego and body, that the waves were part of the ubiquitous sea that we don't normally notice because we are hard-tuned in to our fixed reality. With our cultural conditioning and neural wiring dissolved, and raw info is coming into the brain without selective processing, we see and feel these subtle energy waves and forces that the brain doesn't normally see. Just a theory, maybe it is some chemical produced by the brain or perhaps both are true.

We walked around the park stunned by the living world around us. C pointed to a spot under a bridge where he had met a girl for a date. When they made plans, C said they should just meet under the bridge and drink 40's of beer. Then make out. He had even told his mom about that great idea for a date he had. I thought it was great and regretted the times I had bought dinner for girls, and play the ridiculous dating games when all you needed to do was do something spontaneous or unusual or memorable.

The time came when I had to go get back on the train to Seattle. I was glad to have 6 hours or so to ease back into myself and talk about the trip with someone who was there and clarify all the things I'd try to say and do that didn't get across with heads full of acid. I smoked up real good to try to get sick of weed because I'd be on a train for 3-4 hours. The trip down to Portland was delayed by 45 minutes which sucked and I started getting cranky. I didn't know how I'd handle the trip back in an impressionable post-acid haze. It was a whole other trip on its own starting with the train station, which I noticed was the same one as on the movie What the BLEEP do we know? but I'll get into it later.

 

Please watch the movie The Celestine Prophecy!
Plenty of things you feel on trip will be more clear and explained in the movie.
You will definitely like it and it will give you some pinpoints for the next trip.
I love the way you think and write!