Monday, October 29, 2012
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.
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
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...
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.
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!!!“