The following video is a good example of how not to exit an apartment while tripping on salvia.
OK -- I’ve been trying something new lately -- namely, lighting up in the afternoon. There’s one problem with lighting up in the afternoon...
SOMEONE KNOCKING ON MY FRONT DOOR.
Hell. I just lit up. I was sitting in my chair with ear plugs in my ears. The lights were out. I had just carefully placed the pipe on the floor. The visuals were starting to invade my eyelids. A giant, rotating, cartoon wheel was slicing through my mind, when suddenly I hear….
“KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK,” at the front door.
And here’s what’s so freaky….
After hearing the knocking, I momentarily got paranoid. Then, after about two seconds, amnesia completely wiped clean the memory of someone at my front door, and I continued on with my salvia hallucination. SHIT. I was completely beyond any type of interaction with the everyday, material world around me. Whoever that was knocking on my front door, sorry, whoever you are. I’M GONE.
And where was I? Shit. Like I said, my conscious mind was totally involved with some Technicolor, cartoon mind-wheel churning through my brain. I was absorbed in these micro realities pressing against the outer edges of my eyeballs. These micro realities were like individual soap operas going on inside my head.
Now here’s what’s really interesting:
These micro soap operas were somehow associated with the biology of my visual cortex. I could see the outer edges of these worlds pressing tightly against some hyper dimensional, concave surface. Each one of these micro soap operas was vying for its precious micro moment in the mind-sun. I could see all those individual soap opera edges peeling or pressing against that hardened, hyper dimensional (edge of the eyeball) surface.
These were all different world scenarios playing out in my hallucination. But they all seemed so real. It’s as if our material world is but one soap opera pressing against that same hyper dimensional surface; one soap opera amongst hundreds, thousands, billions of separate soap operas each playing out, each running its individual course.
Shit. That knocking on the door was totally obliterated by my hallucination.
Damn. I live in an apartment complex. Some maintenance guy could have opened the door and walked into my bedroom.
“Excuse me, sir. We got a call about a broken water pipe in the building.”
“Broken water pipe? Uh, no…no, man. I swear I was just using a regular, wooden pipe. Oh, crap. I just spilled it all over the floor. Damn, that was expensive shit.”
“What are you talking about sir. Are you OK?”
“Yeah…yeah…yeah. Shit… Am I laying flat on my back on the floor? Oh, man. Really, I’m OK. Don’t call the cops. What world are we in? Are you in my world?”
“Sir, do you have an emergency number I can call?”
“No..no…I’m coming out of it. I’m coming out of it. Jesus. I feel like I just disembarked from a gnarly circus ride.” I’m OK now. Everything’s OK”
I did another hit of 18x. I could feel the salvia wheel in my conscious brain churning like a gear through warm molasses. The rotating salvia wheel is more primordial than our everyday, material world. Our everyday world is secondary.
Human beings such as ourselves are like tiny, robotic ants scurrying around transforming natural resources into material goods. ‘Outside Beings’ are monitoring our situation. HELL -- THEY’RE MONITORING MY COMPUTER RIGHT NOW !!!!
(schizophrenic warning light is now flashing)
Anyway, the earth-based salvia divinorum plant is like a flash drive containing salvinorin software. This software allows tripping humans the ability to see OUTSIDE THE ROBOTIC BOX.
Our everyday, material world is the ground floor of a strange and secretive civilization. Salvinorin software contains the pass codes allowing us the ability to glimpse floors ‘2’ and above.
So what is floor number two? How about a rotating swirl containing sideways views of digitized neighborhoods. Out they come, salvia beings leaving their plasma homes and spiraling towards us, engorging themselves with our world's molecular components. Fully realized as human clones, their arms are now outstretched in gestures of goodwill.
Astounded, we stiffen up and pronounce,
“Hello, space clones, what world are you from?”
They immediately answer,
“We’re from salvia space. Didn’t you see our world open up like a giant, two dimensional fractal petal? And here we are, once wound up like algorithmic cork-screws -- now unfurled into three dimensional life. And what a nice world you earth dwellers have here, if you don’t mind us saying so.