Monday, December 31, 2012

Salvia X Files: "Last Ride to the Hospital"




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The following post is a short story about a salvianaut who ends up inside a psychiatric hospital. After his friend visits him, things start to get interesting. The story reads like a ‘Twilight Zone’ or ‘X Files’ episode.
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I sat gazing through a steel-mesh, plexiglass partition that separated me from two California State Police officers. The bench seat I was sitting on had a bad spring. I wondered how comfortable the two officers were up front. Looking out into the night, I noticed that our vehicle was sandwiched between two other police cars.

Fog was rolling in as usual for this time of year. The California coastline streamed by like a dream while I thought about my friend Jeff who worked with me at the Santa Barbara Mail Processing Facility.

After a polite knock on the plexiglass, I asked one of the officers why they needed three cars instead of one to get me to the hospital. The officer driving glanced back and chuckled, “That’s what we’d like to know. All we know is that the hospital is under some sort of lock down, and they’re taking a lot of precautions.”

“What the hell is going on?” I thought to myself. “This can’t have anything to do with Jeff.” I tried to piece together the events that had occurred during the last few days. All I knew for sure was that Jeff had been placed under section 5150, an involuntary psychiatric hold. He had supposedly been considered a threat to himself and to others after the police picked him up for creating a public disturbance.

This wasn’t the first time he had gotten into trouble. I should know, because I was with him the last time he made a spectacle of himself. We were doing something that we had been experimenting with the last couple of years - Salvia Extract. I usually limited myself to 10x tops, but Jeff always wanted to go farther. Smoking 30x was no big deal for him. One night after hitting the 30x, he suddenly jumped up and exclaimed, “I can fucking manipulate reality!” I told him to calm down, but he pointed at something in the room. “Look!” he screamed. I quickly turned my head and saw something flash alongside a wall. Jeff then bolted through an open door. I ran after him, but he had already ripped off his shirt, and he was waving it in the middle of a nearby street. How he was able to run around like that under 30x without falling down flat on his face was beyond me.

The three police cars turned off the highway and made their way to a large campus-like group of buildings. Surrounding the buildings was a ten foot high chain link security fence. After stopping briefly at the front gate, we headed toward an imposing looking brick building. Chiseled in marble above its front entrance were the foreboding words, 'Lompoc State Hospital'.

After exiting the police car, I was given a visitors badge and escorted inside. A tall, middle aged man walked up to me and said, “Are you Mr. *Edit*? I replied that I was, and I asked him what was going on. Before he answered, I glanced around at the central area and the surrounding hallways. There were security guards everywhere. The tall gentleman then said, “ My name is Dr. ######. I am the lead psychiatrist here at LSH. Your friend, Mr. *Edit* was remanded to us by the Superior Court of Santa Barbara County. We came to the agreed upon conclusion that your friend was showing symptoms of acute schizophrenia.

There was an uneasy silence before I inquired, “Why all the police and security guards? Does it have anything to do with Jeff?”
The psychiatrist raised a hand up to his face and ran a finger across his receding hair line. He then uttered, “Your friend was involved in a sort of violent anomaly along with several security personnel guarding him.”
“What?” I asked incredulously.
The psychiatrist motioned with his arm and said, “Come with me.”

We proceeded to walk down a flight of stairs to an underground system of tunnels. During working hours, these tunnels were normally used to safely escort patients around the facility. An armed security guard joined us and we continued along one of the tunnels for what seemed like fifty yards. The psychiatrist then began to explain the situation.

“Your friend was first sent to a hospital in Santa Barbara, but something very peculiar was going on with his behavior. It was decided that it would be better if he were sent here to Lompoc.”
“What kind of peculiar behavior?” I asked.
“Your friend was somehow involved in severe physical disturbances at the other facility.” The psychiatrist then looked over at me. “We know that the two of you have been using the psychoactive drug salvia divinorum.”
I stopped walking and turned toward the psychiatrist. “Sir, could you just please tell me what’s going on?”
The psychiatrist gestured toward a door and we climbed a flight of stairs. Now we were in a totally different building, a building with a slight odor of death wafting through its halls.

The psychiatrist’s demeanor began to change. Grabbing hold of my shoulder, he guided me to a large holding room. I started to get nervous. I could feel my sphincter tightening. Moving closer, I noticed that the inside of the room had been grotesquely rearranged. As I stood at the open door, I got chills. Appearing before my eyes was something that looked like a fucking scene out of the movie ‘Alien’.


Somehow the area had lost its dimensionally square identity. The room’s hard angles had become curved. As I slowly walked through the door, I noticed that the inside of the room had the rough appearance of a wheel. All the objects that had previously been situated on the floor, like chairs and a cot for sleeping, were now embedded along the curved surface of one of the room’s walls. Also lodged into the circular wall, at approximately the four o’clock position, was the ossified remains of a human being. Staring at the face of the human, I quickly realized I was looking at my friend Jeff.

I stepped forward to get a closer look. His face, while ossified into a pasty shade of white, still exuded a lingering smell of death. He was seated on something set into the wall that resembled a chair. Astonishingly, I realized that his body was seemingly replicated into very thin, yet lifelike, copies of itself. The solidified, replicated copies layered away behind him until they disappeared into the room’s curved wall.

I was almost at the point of passing out when the psychiatrist shook me and pointed his finger at the room‘s floor. Protruding out of the floor’s surface was a diminutive, porcelain humanoid. I bent down and studied the figure closely. It was an exact replica of a security guard. An expression of terror was frozen on its tiny face. My darting eyes noticed several other nondescript, porcelain humanoids embedded all over the wheel-like surface of the room’s interior.

The psychiatrist put his arm behind me and led me out of the room. He explained that the porcelain humanoid closely resembled one of the missing members of the hospital's security staff. I was at a loss for words as we walked down a hallway before arriving at an office of some kind. I sat down, oblivious to the fact that there were other men standing around me.

Slowly going into shock, I began to hear a distant laugh coming from Jeff's room. It sounded like...yes...it was Jeff. My mind was now completely confused. I looked up around me and asked, “Do you guys hear that laughing sound?” Everyone was stone silent. Then a skinny brother wearing a white lab coat cleared his throat and said in a tinny voice, “Man, I been hearing that shit ever since I came on duty.” The psychiatrist quickly turned his head toward the man and gave him an angry look.

Nervously running my fingers through my hair. I looked down at my shirt and noticed that my visitor’s badge was missing. At this point the psychiatrist composed himself and said, “Mr. *Edit*, sometimes it’s necessary for an individual’s rights to be temporarily suspended for the sake of the surrounding community. We here at LSH believe you might be a risk to the community the same way your deceased friend was a risk. Therefore, we must unfortunately inform you that.....”

My heart was now beating so hard that I was experiencing palpitations. The psychiatrist’s words were a blur. I suddenly stood up and exclaimed, “I lost my visitor’s badge. I think it’s back in the other room. I’m going to go get it.” I then ran out of the office. The psychiatrist behind me yelled, “Hey, you can’t go back in there.”

I heard a security guard trailing me as I raced towards Jeff's room. The muffled laughter was getting louder. I ran through the door and was immediately shifted with force into a seated position. A rush like the rush of a salvia trip enveloped me. My mind was being taken over by salvia reality. I could feel my body calcifying.

When the security guard ran into the room after me, his shoes were immediately sucked into the floor’s surface. I was able to watch him through my calcifying eyes as he struggled to regain his balance. The room was now beginning to slowly rotate, and the curved, wheel-like interior transformed into a type of malleable jelly. The security officer’s legs were now slowly sinking into the liquefied floor. A look of extreme panic washed over his face. A few seconds later the liquefaction was up to his waist. Then the guard frantically reached for his gun and fired off two quick shots into the rotating mass.

While still watching him sink into the quivering floor, I felt a sudden lurch backwards as I shifted from one reality into a cloned, secondary reality. I was being replicated backwards into the curved wall the same way Jeff was replicated. I felt more jolts as my ossifying body shifted backwards through a succession of growingly dissimilar, parallel realities.

The security guard (or one of his parallel doppelgangers) was now neck high in the quicksand maelstrom. Then, with a blink of his porcelain eyes, his shrinking, terrified face disappeared beneath the floor’s quivering surface.

The laughter around me began transitioning into a hypnotic trance as I continued to shift backwards through a scanning kaleidoscope of alternate worlds. Soon I began to notice the outlines of welcoming entities in the periphery of the now vanishing hospital room.

The physical world of the state hospital was rapidly fading away. From behind me, I could sense a large rotating, organic wheel composed of interconnected, humanoid beings. One of the humanoids reached out his arm to me. It was Jeff. As I grabbed his hand, my salvia body slid out of its earthly cocoon; and like the multicolored, soaring image of a butterfly, I was free.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

The Entire Stack of Worlds are but One Master World



(18x - one hit)

What the Fuck???
I remember going to a place that’s off limits to Earth people.
It’s not so much a singular place. It’s more an acknowledgement of a System. Is it possible that we all see the System at some point while tripping, and it’s washed clean when we come down?

So what IS this System?

It’s related to parallel worlds, but it’s more complex. The whole parallel worlds phenomenon is a shadow of something even more fascinating and disturbing.

Here’s a visual way of describing it:

Imagine standing in front of a giant aluminum screen, say eight feet high and twenty feet across. Paint a 2.2 dimensional world on that screen: a Technicolor world “IN PROGRESS”.

Now imagine another somewhat identical aluminum world behind it, also containing a Technicolor world in progress. Keep going: more and more compressed, adjacent worlds all in progress - all packed together. Hundreds of them, thousands of them, 10^500 of them.

Here’s the thing: you are in each and every one of those worlds as they “UNSTACK” from a far distant endpoint in salviaspace. As each world unstacks, you are there; your body, your mind, squeezed tightly inside everyone of those pliable, aluminum screen worlds.

As you rapidly pass through each of those membrane-like screens, you are CONVINCED that every one of those livable world-screens is TRUE REALITY. Your brain’s short term memory is nonexistent; and as each True World passes by containing people gibbering at you, it is immediately forgotten, only to be replaced by another, almost identical True World.

Look! Here comes one. A 2.2D world. And connected to it are sectional, almost identical worlds containing almost identical scenarios. See? Those women scurrying around in their red brick homes circa 1962. They're all busy preparing lunch before suddenly realizing the existence of an intruder. YOU!! You're eavesdropping on their salvia world. The hyper-women drop what they're doing, and then begin scolding you for breaching the 4th Wall. They're telling you to leave, and you already are as your retinas scan the rotating sandwich slices of red brick homes retreating back into the center of your visual cortex.

You are not just a conscious passersby remotely viewing this in quiet comfort as it is unfolding. You are EXISTENTIALLY there, physically and emotionally there, feeling the roller-coaster process through each 2.2D world as it all rolodexes through hyperspace.

You are wiped out by the experience. Sweat is poring out of your pores. (I won’t bother telling you what was happening in my chest during all this. Believe me, you don’t want to know).

So it’s not just about a conceptual understanding of parallel worlds. It is existential and ontological. It is experienced by your whole being.

And what does it all mean? Hell if I know. But fundamentally, at the center of our existence, there is something very weird happening. Our shared, physical world might be but a snapshot within a wide, expansive continuum of separate yet inseparable worlds.
Indeed - an infinite number of Earth-world templates awaiting our discovery.

/-----------\

My best conceptual understanding of the Master World is that it's an onion-like, extremely massive, gravitationally contracting, hyperdimesional structure that attracts parallel worlds onto its surface. These parallel worlds all seem to be Earth-mimicking in nature. They contain human scenarios in progress: 3d scenarios collapsing into 2.2D, semitransparent, curved sheets. These individual sheets stream onto the Master World as a continual, layering process of enfoldment.

The salvia beings allowed me to see their Master World, but they would only allow me to enter as a dead man (not just talking ego death). I did not have the internal courage to accept my immediate and permanent death.

Monday, December 3, 2012

Dreaming Oaxaca



The Mexican holy man affixed a ceremonial Indian hat atop tripping man’s head, which was already beading with sweat. Only an hour ago, a hot sun receded under the far horizon, and stars were now beginning to fire up like stationary lightening bugs.

The holy man then placed a quid of specially prepared, enhanced salvia leaves inside tripping man’s mouth. After speaking a few soft words in Spanish, the holy man pointed tripping man towards a field of scraggly grass sprinkled with flowering agave plants.

Holding his hands up in prayerful obeisance, tripping man ventured to the center of the welcoming field. As he chewed the leaves, an aura of salvinorin molecules breathed outwardly from his body. The air was soon painted with a green and purplish haze.

Tripping man now began to focus on his heart. It felt like a rhythmic drum beat rising in intensity from deep inside his chest. Louder and louder it pounded. Louder and Louder and suddenly a Giant RIPPPING sound: the ground in front of tripping man RIPPED open like an earthen Zipper made of Shrieking gravel.

Rising out of the opened earth in front of tripping man’s astonished eyes was a trail of seven curanderos, each waving a reddish-black transformation mask in his hand. The seven men were identical replicas of each other. They erupted from the ground like an undulating serpent -- like a snake of clones -- like a roller coasting dragon. Scanning past tripping man’s eyes, the trail of curanderos all flashed mischievous grins before disappearing back into the grassy knoll from which they, only seconds before, originally sprang.

Tripping man’s legs quickly buckled, and he sank down to a kneeling position. Two dragonflies, one winged with gold and one winged with rubies, darted in front of tripping man’s face. They froze in mid air, then danced together in flight before darting off again. All this while a rustling wind sang in whispered tones a hauntingly salvia-esque corrido across the Oaxacan nightscape.

A crescent moon gently orbited the outstretched tip of a palmetto branch as tripping man mashed out with his teeth the last of the quid juice. No longer sure if his eyes were wide open or tightly shut, he soon lost the ability to focus on anything in front of his rubbery body.

Now, with a fresh upsurge of salvinorin molecules traversing his veins, tripping man emptied his awareness of all extraneous baggage. His consciousness began to drift away: to recede like an ocean tide. Filling in the void were approaching visuals only his fellow travelers of salvia space could have imagined.

What appeared as a darkened wheel as wide as the night sky began to roll against the ground towards tripping man. Not to be outdone, the ground pushed back like retinal lava directly against the motion of the sky. The ground and sky became like two giant organic gears working in unison; the mechanics of which eluded tripping man‘s conceptual understanding.

Although tripping man’s brain was barely functioning, he pivoted to the left and recognized his horse that had previously been tied to an exposed agave root. The horse was now being dragged across the night of consciousness itself, along with an accompanying system of ever miniaturizing horses: all fractaling away from tripping man’s point of view. The horses slid off into the distance like an MC Escher painting; a spiraling staircase of wooden horses: hundreds of them, all purple and green, all rocking together in synchronized unison.

After a while, tripping man slowly stood up and surveyed the situation around him. What looked like rodents or hairy elves were scurrying around in the dark, apparently trying to put everything back together again, back to where everything was before the salvia journey began.

Scanning the terrain in sweeping motions, tripping man’s eyes searched for his friend the holy man. Suddenly, the cry of a coyote cut a jagged note across the valley. In the distance was the frozen silhouette of something silvery brown. Its eyes, one ringed with gold and one ringed with rubies, stared back at tripping man’s face. And then it was gone.

Tripping man stood there and smiled; and he continued to smile while fireflies arched like stars toward the morning dawn.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Trippin Thru 2012 With Salvia (11-27-12)

(one hit of 18x)
“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??????????”

Press--PrEss--pRESS-Pres--PrESs. My finger repeatedly slammed down on the laptop’s power key.

Wow. I saw it all smeared tightly on my eyeballs. There was a constant audio soundtrack which scanned alongside the film sheets which were simultaneously peeling off my eyes.
[curving, two-dimensional containers of ongoing worlds]

These worlds were not separate scenes like in a typical movie. These audio-visual worlds were ongoing, similar to how waves are ongoing even though their constituent particles are seemingly stationary.

When I say there was an accompanying soundtrack, what I really mean is that the interlinked worlds contained individual comments like, “You’re watching us again,” followed by something like, “He’s beginning to figure us out.” etc. I know this sounds schizophrenic and maybe it is. Let’s say it’s a sign of schizophrenia. But the incredibly beautiful and (insanely) complex nature of the visuals is what is so MIND-BLOWING.

GOD. I wish I could convey to you all the intricate ontological structures I was witnessing. It was like I was stealing away the foundations of fundamental human experience. It was like I was stealing away the Top Secret design of human existence.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??????????”

That’s the question I was asking myself as I frantically flailed about in the darkness attempting to log onto my Microsoft Works document. It was another comedy of errors as I was tripping over extension cords and accidentally turning on and off my laptop. During this confusion, I was still tripping on extract. The voices peeling off my eyeballs were saying stuff like, “He’s going to forget it all again,” and “Doesn’t he realize how important this is?”

And the visuals -- how do I describe them?
(another hit of 18x)

…and the visuaalzz, how do ah dizkribe themb
…….and devishuallzzzz, hhhdwwII dezkriblllldembbLM
………..andD’Viztabbllllll -- hWWDEXTWYIBTEMM

This hallucinatory world containing a myriad of pulsating colors rotated like a squeegeed river up my curved eyeballs. Greenish, pulsating humanoids slid their arms against the outer edges of my convex eyes and attempted to communicate with me. They crouched and flattened down into a side-view mirror that proceeded to slide away into hyperspace.

Then, suddenly, another two dimensional mirror rotated completely around my eyeballs containing another series of crazy-acting humanoids who stood up out of their crouching positions and exclaimed, “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??????????”

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Trippin Thru 2012 With Salvia (11-20-12)

The salvia beings are letting me know that if I keep posting my trip reports they are going to kill me. At first they politely told me that they weren’t happy with my reports. Lately they have been increasing the pressure by squeezing my heart to the point of snuffing out my life.

So let’s recap where I am in my journey:

1)--- I keep seeing a massively dense and heavy globe-like structure that is apparently some type of storage device. The outer layer of the storage device is connected to the outer edges of my eyeballs. Information seems to flow bi-directionally between the outer edges of my eyeballs and the device. I still can’t figure out what the device contains. It might contain all the experiential information from our everyday, material world; or it might contain information from worlds outside our material world. My vibe is that the device contains all the visual and auditory information from parallel worlds adjacent to our world. Three dimensional audio/visual scenarios from these parallel worlds seem to collapse into a very fine metallic-like film across the outer surface of the device. I can’t emphasize enough just how massive the pressure is on the surface of the device. You have to experience it to really know what I’m talking about.


2)--- There are beings located in parallel worlds adjacent to our world. These beings are earth-like in appearance. They speak my language; they speak your language. Sometimes the beings seem benevolent; sometimes they seem malevolent. OK. I’m going to try to explain something difficult. These salvia beings aren’t unique, singular entities. Each salvia being is somehow connected to a fractal containing multiple versions of itself. There is a qualitative progression of gnosis spanning across a salvia being’s fractal. At one end of the gnosis stream is a fully Aware, self-actualized salvia being. At the other end of the gnosis stream is a biological, un-aware humanoid. It might be possible that fractals of salvia beings coalesce down into our everyday, material world in the form of un-aware earth humans. Do you hear what I’m saying? Salvia beings are possibly walking among us in the form of (what appear to be) normal looking human beings. Is it any wonder the salvia beings want me to stop posting my trip reports?

Actually, we might all be salvia beings, but because of our location at the far end of (what we perceive as) the ever decreasing fractal stream of salvia-awareness, we are all un-aware of the ‘expanded situation’ (expanded situation defined as the awareness of parallel worlds containing parallel beings).


3)--- There is a possibility that our technologically advanced human descendents are trying to contact us. Terence McKenna first hypothesized this when he spoke about the transcendental object at the end of time. He didn’t imply that the object was trying to contact us, only that it was emitting such a strong signal that we couldn’t help but become aware of it. On the other hand, I’m suggesting that our advanced descendents might actually be trying to contact us.

I thought of an interesting scenario: If this blog is able to be preserved by Google and successors of Google for hundreds or thousands or millions of years, then perhaps future researchers will stumble across it. They will then know of at least one human candidate alive in 2012 who had a hallucinogenic and open mind, and who might be a good recipient for some kind of long distance attempt at contact. (are you listening, future human hybrids?)

All I have to do is hit ‘enter’ and this post will upload to the internet. Immediately, through a quantum speeding up of time, people in the future will read these words as if I just typed them. It’s happening right now. You are reading the exact words I’m keying right now, even though days, weeks, months, years have elapsed since I keyed them. But has any time really passed? The same thing goes for those of you reading this post ten thousand years from now. No time has really passed, therefore, please get off your technologically advanced lazy asses and make contact with me. There are clues in this blog that disclose my true name and earth-history.

If the salvia beings continue to squeeze my heart, then I’m going to cease publishing my trip reports.
Later, salvia brothers and sisters.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Should We Leave The Salvia World And Its Beings Alone?



......Oh shit......I just saw it roll over my subconscious mind. I even heard voices of some guys saying something like, "stop it, stop it", or "don't let, don't let".
There IS a fucking reality out there filled with people. Our subconscious minds are able to roll up on this other world while we are tripping. All I remember is these beings yelling something like, "don't let, don't let". When I heard that, I panicked and the trip aborted before the guys could finish their sentence. I then began to frantically claw my way back to consensus reality. These beings were human-like. They spoke in English. They DID NOT want their world to be exposed.
So what do I do NOW?

I’m going back there. All this shit has not been for nothing. There IS a world out there. It's composed of beings who want to remain hidden. This other world is in our eFFing MINDS. It is real and salvia exposes it.
And I got it all on audio.

I was totally attached to the visual as it was rolling over. The visual was a self contained reality unfolding itself temporally. When I saw the (two?) male beings, their bodies were embedded onto the surface of the reality sheet as it was unfolding. Their words "don't let, don't let" were also embedded onto the unfolding sheet. When I saw the beings and heard them speak, at first I tried to memorize the words. Then I tried to fight my way back to my voice recorder. I think there's a lot of silence on it.

Even though I just heard a few words, the point was clear. "Don't fuck with our world."
But guess what? I’m going right back there with my voice recorder, even if I end up with a heart attack.

I listened to the audio. Here is the transcript:
"OK....ha ha....I see.....", followed by four minutes and fifty seconds of irregular breathing.

But I did mention later that the world was the very same and familiar world I’ve always seen, except this time up close and personal.......with beings that spoke in English?? WTF?
Yeah, what is it with all the secrecy? BFD. These beings are humanoids who speak our language. We access them through our minds. Don't we have a right to visit their reality?
Hey, I have approx 200 hits of 10x and 50 hits of 25x to explore their world. They will have to kill me to stop me.

I can't remember anything about the salvia world that rolled by/through/over me. But I’m sure that I saw it all in splendid hi res technicolor. I wish I could have gotten the details into my voice recorder. :(
This trip was a major milestone for me. I have always wanted to actually communicate with a being. The dialogue was one sided, I listened while the beings spoke. The words were actually audible, but not through the ears, rather through the mind.
The vibe I got was that these beings were like sentries who were visibly upset/afraid of salvia reality being exposed.

Another major vibe I got was that this salvia reality is too well established for only me and a few others to know about. The vibe is that there is a network of people who are Very aware of this 'other world', and they are monitoring websites to see if anyone new "comes on-line", so to speak. I know that sounds paranoid, but WTH.
This salvia world seems to be far more primordial than our consensus world outpost. The salvia world is like an established empire, an empire deeply hidden within the strange confines of our entheo-awakened minds.

When I saw those talking beings, they unfolded out of a rolling civilization. They and their words were embedded into the topography or infrastructure of the actual reality. The whole thing was somewhere between 2d and 3d.

There are many different types of salvia trips. Only a small percentage of trips sound like mine. My trips are about another civilization cloaked in concealment.. It's like a child's secret garden, full of innocent beings. They allow me to play in the garden as long as I don’t tell the adults about it.
I'm going to throw away the note pad and voice recorder and just play in the garden.

/////////////////

I've been trying out my newly purchased (no frills) vaporizer. At first I was using plain leaf. I tried getting the temp hot, but the experiences were underwhelming. Tonight I decided to try the 10x. I retired to my bedroom, turned out the lights, and plopped onto bed.
I noticed a slight heartburn and tried to burp it away. No luck. I don't like to trip with any background pain, but I figured that the 10x wasn't going to get sufficiently vaped anyway. So I lit up and slowly sucked the vape into my lungs. The aroma tasted like popcorn. I began to see visuals, so I knew it was working. The visuals weren't very strong though.

Suddenly, I noticed something odd. Instead of peaking quickly as with regular smoke, I experienced myself slowly elevating upwards. The visuals stopped, but I kept elevating. It reminded me of weed. I felt like I was in two worlds at once. The world of the living and some other world. I also began to notice the pain in my heart area. The never ending elevation along with the heart pain started to freak me out. I began to realize that I was acclimating to my own upcoming death. I rose up from my bed and got the hell out of my bedroom. I figured that I would be better off in my living room. While walking through the hallway, I got the very strong impression that my dead mother was waiting there in the living room. She had been sent to escort me back to the other world. I was completely awash in the specter of my own death.

When I reached the living room, my mom was not there. I found my trusted recliner and sat down. I got the vibe that the world of the dead is the more real world, and the world of the living is a type of ongoing experiment : a chance for the dead to experience life.

So now my heartburn is fading away, and my vaporizer sits on the table. It whispers to me, "come back, the popcorn's ready."

////////////////

I wonder what the Mazatecs would think about vaping? Vaping isn't the same as smoking.
I hit the same half bowl of 10x in my vaporizer two more times, for a grand total of three hits. I got strong visuals all three times, my last hit the strongest of all. Unfortunately, there were no beings or no sounds. The visuals, while vivid, were very nondescript. I'm going to empty the bowl and burn it in a regular pipe to see if any salvinorin is left.

I got the vibe that were it not for living human beings, there would be no knowledge of the universe, no knowledge of the beauty nor of the random violence. This is assuming that there aren't other advanced life forms around.
Human beings are creatures that are capable of intellectualizing the universe. We are the universe's ability to reflect upon itself. This spectacle of humans driving around and ordering cheeseburgers from open-mouthed, mechanical cartoon faces at drive-throughs is an absurd farce.
We are the fucking universe gazing at itself.......
AND IT'S ORDERING A HAPPY MEAL.
.
.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Sometimes Things Go Wrong When Smoking Salvia



What the hell just happened? This was no normal trip into salvia land. I can still feel strange sensations running up and down my backbone. I really shouldn't post this trip report………….

It all began with my usual pre trip meditation walk in the dark. I held a small LED flashlight in my hand to guide me as I mentally prepared for the sojourn. It was approaching 1 AM. Everything was quiet in my apartment complex. I sat down on my foam pad and held the pipe in my hand. I grabbed my Bic lighter and lit the bowl of 10x/plain leaf blend. Blowing the smoke out of my mouth, I had no sense of concern, assured that I had already taken down my smoke alarm and placed it in a drawer in another room (or so I thought). I took another hit. As the smoke billowed from my lips, I started to notice the usual rotation effect of my closed eye visuals. I began to drift away…drift away…drift away…..HOLY SHIT !!!!!!

I FORGOT TO REMOVE MY SMOKE ALARM AND THE SMOKE IS CREEPING TOWARDS IT.
Oh, and by the way, I’M FUCKING TRIPPING !!!!!!

Tripping or not, my mind was filled with one thing and one thing only: the prospect of my smoke alarm shrieking at one o’clock in the morning throughout the apartment complex. It was flight or fight time and I needed to fly over to my smoke alarm before it went off. Still in the dark, I immediately rose up from my foam pad. My mind was now a ball of torrid confusion. My legs were a bundle of twitchy, rubbery muscles; but I had an important task to carry out, and I needed to keep my brain together long enough to accomplish the goal.

I made it over to the wall switch and turned on the light. There was a table nearby that I could stand on to reach the smoke alarm. I pushed the table underneath the alarm, but something was wrong. My brain was having a hard time keeping up with my actions. My hands were attached to the legs of the table and I couldn‘t remove them. They were frozen onto the legs as if I were being mildly electrocuted. Also, there were little cartoon animals running down the length of my arms. They provided a kind of stretching action to my arms. I became absorbed in the antics of the little cartoon animals. This seemed to last an eternity. I just stood there hunched over motionless with my arms attached to the table legs.

I could feel strange sensations traveling up and down the length of my spinal column. What the hell was going on? Where was I? Who was I? Why was I hunched over with my spinal column tingling all over? Then it hit me. “JESUS CHRIST, my smoke alarm is about to go off.”

I began to see into the immediate future. My smoke alarm would wake up the neighbors. Someone would knock on the door. I would open it, still hunched over clutching a table leg like some crazed freak. I’m sure I would have said something like, “It’s OK, I’m stoned on salvia. I’m tripping on a major hallucinogen. Nothing to see here, move along.” But that didn’t happen. At least not yet. I still needed to free my hands from the table so that I could stand on it.

Now, mind you. I was in the plateau phase of the salvia trip. My mind kept wanting to smear all across the living room walls. I had to keep my brain together because I needed to jump up and stand on the table. That, of course, was a bad idea. Rule number six in the salvia handbook states: "Don’t fucking stand on tall pieces of furniture when you’re tripping". But I had to get to that smoke alarm, so I jumped onto the table. I knew that if I slipped and fell, the smoke alarm would go off and an ambulance would arrive to take me to the hospital for a 72 hour psycho hold.

I grabbed onto the base of the smoke alarm in order to twist it off. Again, there was a problem. My brain refused to communicate with my hands, and my mind once again started to drift. While standing on the table with my hands grasping the smoke alarm, I began to visualize my body transforming into the hind leg of a mechanical cow, its belly the same off-white color as my living room ceiling. Somehow I had suddenly become an integral component of an otherworldly bovine space station slowly rotating in hyperspace. Thankfully the visual dispersed and I soon came to. Twisting off the smoke alarm, I stumbled over to a kitchen drawer and shut the alarm away.

Next, I just stood there alone in my apartment. Everything was peacefully quiet. No ambulance had arrived to take me away. The tiny cartoon animals had gone from whence they came. I then turned off the light, sat down on my foam pad, and sighed a sigh of relief. The trip was over.

#postscript#
I don’t know if there was enough smoke in the room to actually set off a smoke alarm, but try telling that to someone tripping on salvia who’s only mission in life is to remove said smoke alarm.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Volcano Nachos



Man takes hit -- trips -- flails arms attempting to log in to Microsoft Works. -- raises hand clutching his TV remote thinking it’s his computer mouse -- continues to flail about -- starts laughing...
HOLY CRAP

Wow wowowowowwowow woW

Purple and green humanoids
All connecting together
Forming some kind of structure
Rotating before his visual cortex
Deep inside his tripping mind.
“HA HA HA HA HA“

Purple and green rotating humanoids; all roasting in some electri-fried cerebral current. Quivering humanoids attached together like molded, electrostatic clones: ready to be plucked like fruit and placed back into tripping man's reality.

He needsanotherhit.

###################

ZOOM ZOOM BOOM
(tripping man exhales smoke from second hit of extract)

Almost immediately there’s a knock at the door. The knock-knocking echoes in tripping man’s mind. Dozens of voices reverberate around the persistent knocking sound -- voices that stop in mid sentence -- sentence fragments that rapidly fire up and around like electromagnetic fan blades.

Tripping man doesn’t care anymore -- salvia has temporarily set him free. He stumbles towards his front door. Opening it, multicolored trails of humanoid ribbons stretch outwardly from where the door, only seconds before, was stoically closed.

A shock wave of sunlight fills tripping man’s eyes as streams of human faces stare back at him. He continues laughing out loud.
“HA HA HA HA HA”

Tripping man hears a voice emanating from within the cosmic blue.
“Hey, man. We’re making a Taco Bell run. You want anything?”
Tripping man, still laughing, holds his hands out as the concrete surface outside his apartment beckons him down like a suctioning troll.

Tripping man, now flat on the ground, slowly rolls over and looks up at his friends’ expressions of shocked bewilderment. He cries out, “I just fucking saw you all in a jello mold! You were just inside - a fucking, electri-fried - jello mold!!”

One of the figures smilingly stares down at him and intones, “I get it. You just smoked some salvia, right?”
Tripping man points his hand at the figure and replies, “You better fucking get it. We’re just apparitions painted on the inside of a holographic bubble.”

The stationary figure looks down at tripping man and answers, “OK, dude. …Later”. Then tripping man's friends stream-walk down the steps leading to the parking lot. After a few heavy seconds, tripping man twists his head to the side. Drawing forth a final burst of energy, he yells,
“Hey Guys, Bring Me Back Some Volcano Nachos And Extra Hot Sauce!!!“