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!!!“

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Salvia X Files: "Little Juno"


Slow Life from BioQuest Studios on Vimeo.


####################
The following story starts out rather innocently. It then descends precariously into the depths of salvia space.
Buckle up and enjoy the ride.
####################


The sun had already gone down, and mosquitoes were out and about as I stood impatiently on my front porch. My screen door had been closing erratically, and I was trying to figure out a way to get it to shut properly. That’s when I saw her standing there, her golden hair falling gently over her ears. She was my nine year old next door neighbor. Her name was Juno.

“Why don’t you just oil it?” she asked, a warm smile adorning her inquisitive face. 
I glanced down at her four and a half foot frame and answered, “That’s just what I was about to do, Juno.”
“OW!!” she immediately yelled, swiping her right hand across her left shoulder. “A mosquito bit me.”
I stopped fidgeting with the screen door and watched Juno scratching her arm. Then I said, “You better go inside your house before you get bit again.”
“OK, Adam,” answered Juno, already running towards her front door. 

She didn’t really live in a traditional house. Neither of us did. We both shared a red brick duplex. I lived in the apartment on the right, and she and her parents lived in the apartment on the left. I had already been there two years before Juno and her parents moved in. I considered them normal neighbors, that is, until a few months ago when Ben, Juno's father, lost his job. That’s about the time I first started hearing arguments from across the wall separating our two living rooms. And lately, while engaging in neighborly talk with Ben, I began to notice the strong smell of alcohol on his breath.

Now it was getting dark. After taking Juno’s advice and applying several drops of oil onto the screen door’s dampening arm, I settled into my living room for an evening of quiet salvia excursions.

I pulled out a small baggie containing some salvia extract. Several months ago, I had decided to combine my 25x salvia with some 10x in order to lessen the potency. And then yesterday, while digging around in a kitchen cupboard, I discovered this small baggie, still containing enough 25x for a good sized bong load.
I figured, “What the hell. I’m gonna smoke this.”

And so I sat in the darkness, in my living room, attempting a pre-trip meditation. My composure was becoming increasingly unsettled because I kept hearing noises emanating from the other apartment. The noises would flare up before quieting down again. Then, while in a pocket of relative silence, I decided to go ahead and fire the shit up. “Lock and load, baby,” I softly whispered to myself.

I flicked the proverbial Bic and watched the dry herb get quickly consumed in an orange flash. Raising my index finger from the small hole atop the wooden bong, I felt like a musician playing a sweet note as I drew the cool smoke into my awaiting lungs.

A mere few seconds later, I grew aware that the 25x was coming on strong -- WAY too strong. 
!!-CRASH-!!
Out of nowhere, I heard a loud noise from the other side of my living room wall. 
“Shit, what was that?” I silently blurted to myself, trying to stay composed. But I was already in full trip mode, and the unsettling sound was quickly forgotten. 

The blackened room around me was now transforming into a weird, holographic bubble. My mind's eye could see grainy, green, gelatinous globules of electromagnetic energy transforming into a pulsating chair. The chair then pulled away like molasses from my tripping mind. Next, I heard a muffled scream, and my mental eye could see this same green chair being violently thrown across a room, narrowly missing a woman’s face. 
“Oh, Fuck!” I thought aloud. “That’s Juno’s mom!” 

I was hallucinating heavily now. Sweat was oozing from the pores in my skin. Except for my visual cortex, all the processing in my brain was shutting down. Now my mind's eye could see Ben, Juno’s father. Suddenly, a strange voice in my head asked, “What the fuck is that guy holding in his hand?” My retinas scanned the trail leading down his right arm. Then my heart dropped like a rock when I realized he was clutching a hatchet. Swinging it wildly, he glared down towards a figure across from the kitchen dining table. The terrified figure was Juno.

Choking back the urge to panic, I stuttered to myself, “Oh, man...Oh, man... Is this really happening?"

With the hallucination now peaking in intensity, my mind had seemingly dislodged from my body. I didn’t know who or where I was. The virtual muscles in my mind’s eye were following Ben holding the hatchet as he slowly rounded the kitchen table. Juno’s mother screamed again, her mouth twisting into a sickly combination of fear and defeat. I could actually see vocal waves exiting her mouth. Her scream was like a slowing audible recording, the eerie pitch descending lower and lower. 

Temporarily distracted by her mom, Juno quickly turned her eyes back toward her advancing father. His arm, now already in full swing, was cutting an invisible swath toward his daughter’s head. 

My still tripping mind watched as the blade made horizontal impact an inch above Juno's eyebrows. As the hatchet entered her skin, a bright red, wet color instantly appeared along the surface of the shiny, sharp blade.

The rapidly unfolding series of events was sucking the air out of my chest. My mind was being whipsawed by salvia molecules as the violence flashed into my visual cortex.

While Ben’s hatchet cut through Juno’s milky white skull, something extraordinary happened. My mind, my brain convulsed revoltingly in a kind of epileptic seizure. Miraculously, Ben’s hatchet had somehow cut a zipper-like demarcation between two separate realities: one reality containing the horror of a murder, and now a brand new alternate reality containing Juno with angels in her head.

The room enclosing Juno seemed to rotate now, and life-like miniature Junos were spilling out of her freshly opened skull. Reaching the floor, the tiny Junos immediately scampered away, disappearing into familiar objects like appliances and doors. They all emptied out of Juno’s head, all except one. My spinning mind’s eye watched as a terrified Juno stumbled out of the kitchen and into her living room. Then I saw her lose consciousness and fall, spilling out the last remaining miniature Juno.

Gratefully, my trip was now past its peak. I slowly opened my eyes and began the process of re-establishing a sense of self. The specter of an unconscious and immobile Juno was still in my hallucinating mind; when, to my startled amazement, I watched as the last tiny Juno suddenly appeared inside my living room. Only five inches tall, she darted across my carpet, and before my body could flinch, the little Juno leapt up and disappeared into the bony flesh just below my right knee.

A wave of conviction suddenly surged through my body. I needed to communicate with someone immediately. Usually, after a salvia trip, I’m compelled to post my experience on the internet. But this was something totally different. I was now feeling a serious urge to speak intimately to a real person on the phone. 

I rose up from my chair and immediately tripped over my barbells. Landing on the floor, I crawled on my hands and knees towards where I thought my cell phone would be. It was still dark, and my right hand swept the carpet for the phone. Finally grabbing it, I held it in my hand. The numerical keys radiated a warm glow as I instinctively pressed the numbers 9..1..1. 

I only heard soft static at first which was suddenly followed by a woman's voice:
“######## 911. What’s your emergency?”
I squeezed the cell phone tightly.
“Yeah, my name is Adam #####. I live at ## Willow Drive. A few minutes ago, I was tripping and, uh, wait, there’s this man, and he was in a hallucination, but it wasn’t a hallucination…”
The lady interrupted me and asked, “Sir, are you requesting medical assistance?”
“No ma’am, no ma’am. Listen to me. I heard this scream, and it looked like a murder in my head.”
There was a momentary silence at the other end of the line. Then the lady said, “Mr. #####, I’m going to send a city police unit to your location, OK?”
I answered, “OK, OK.” I then pressed ’end’ on my cell phone.

I was already rapidly coming down from the trip as I sat dazed on the floor in the darkness. Staring at the phone, I immediately realized what I had just done.
“Oh, shit." I muttered. "I just called 911. I just called the fucking cops!”
Trying to get a grip, I reminded myself that I hadn’t broken any laws. Salvia divinorum was still legal to possess in Washington state.
“Just cool it, man.” I told myself.

Minutes later, a knock-knocking sound jarred me back to reality. I slowly stood up and made my way to the front door. Sure enough, standing there was a police officer. Further back in my front yard was his partner holding a flashlight. The officer glanced down at his note pad and then brought his eyes back up to mine.
“Hi, are you Adam #####?”
“Yes sir,” I answered.
The officer looked at me intently. He then asked, “Adam, have you been drinking or doing anything else tonight that I should know about?”
I stood there for a second, and with a sigh I replied, “Sir, I was tripping on this stuff called salvia di...”

Before I could finish my sentence, the officers and I heard a muffled noise from my neighbor’s apartment. Suddenly, Juno’s mom burst out of the front door in hysterics, followed closely by her husband Ben chasing her. At that point I think I pissed a little in my pants. The two police officers immediately ran toward Ben and tackled him to the ground. The officer who had been talking to me was using his knee to pin Ben’s arm down. Clutched tightly in Ben’s fist was a shiny, new hatchet.

I walked off my front porch and watched as the officers put handcuffs on Ben. Then a slight movement caught the corner of my eye. It was Juno, apparently unharmed, standing in the darkness on her porch. Hearing her mom screaming out her name, Juno suddenly darted across the front lawn and leapt up into her mother’s arms. Alone, I stood there and watched the two of them embrace.

Shortly afterward, another police officer accompanied by a state social worker drove up to take Juno and her mother away. I raised my hand and waved goodbye to Juno. She did likewise. Watching the car back out of the driveway, I figured I would probably never see them again. I was right. A week later, a moving van would come and empty out their apartment. 

And so I turned around, stepped up onto my front porch, and entered my apartment. Walking into my living room, I could hear the screen door closing slowly and smoothly behind me.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

2D People Inside Linoleum Worlds



(18x - one hit)
Transcribed a few minutes after actual trip.

##------##

How can I explain How can I explain How Can I Explain????????
....All those people from other worlds peeling off my eyeballs??

They were like two-dimensional magnetic sheets containing compressed representations of our everyday world.

I saw the heel from someone’s magnetized foot pulling away from my fucking RETINAS.
Multiple people inside multiple worlds peeling out of my fucking EYES.


There were people actually talking to me as they looked down at my body which was positioned near a floor. Each different person was speaking from a totally different world. These ‘world peelings’ were like some kind of futuristic, magnetized, semi-transparent linoleum being pulled off a ground surface of some kind (directly in front of the outer edges of my eyeballs).

Shit. The people in these other worlds were carbon copies of the people in our everyday world. They kept telling me to stop eFFing with the Matrix. They didn’t actually say, “Don’t eFF with the Matrix.” It was more like they were continuously trying to mute my mental self-awareness.
I could actually hear their normal-sounding voices.
THEY WERE PISSED THAT I WAS ALTERING THEIR REALITY PROGRAM.

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

For an hour I sat in my lazy boy chair holding onto my pipe, too nervous to take the hit. I knew that some HEAVYOSITY was coming my way, but I never expected this.

This trip was high tech, but only in the sense that our mundane, everyday world was being replicated right in front of my retinas. These everyday worlds were like 2D sheets of magnetized, semi-transparent linoleum carrying people away as they were being scanned (3 ScansPerSecond) from the outer edges of my eyeballs.

The people in these linoleum sheets were trying to keep my cerebral awareness at a minimum. They were telling me something like, “You’re not supposed to know about this, intruder.”

So there it is -- another day, another hit. Tune in tomorrow -- same bat-shit time, same bat-shit channel.

#########
EDIT (a few hours later)
#########

When I was watching those semi-transparent, linoleum floors scanning away, I wasn't in my kitchen staring at the floor. I was in a darkened room with my eyes closed. The visuals weren't caused by my last retinal imprint.

While they were scanning off my eyeballs, I got the very strong impression that if I could lock on to one of those worlds (with a kind of retinal will power), then I would have been able to enter that world. Each of those worlds were incredibly close to our everyday world. Maybe the fact that the hallucinated worlds were so Earth-like could actually help a tripper fit into that Earth-world facsimile. It's possible that the people in these scanning worlds realized my intent to enter their particular world. That might be why they tried to dissuade me from entering. I guess that would really have wrecked the Matrix.

Monday, September 10, 2012

She's Waxing Reality Off My Face


I was reading alone in my livingroom, when suddenly there arose a loud cry coming from my den. Putting down my book, I ran into the room and saw Mr. Swim sitting in the darkness, his hands clutching the armrests of his recliner. Immediately, he arched his head back and shouted,
"She's Waxing Reality Off My Face!"

I raised my arm to turn on the light, but he grabbed my shirt and yelled, "Keep It Dark".
He then said that he could still see the trailing edge of the reality moving away from him. "It's like a woman's wedding gown sliding across the surface of a floor, flowing into the distance like retinal lava," he added.

I asked him what was going on, and he answered that he had just smoked some extract.
"How much did you smoke?" I asked.
"Some plain leaf topped off with 10x," was his reply.
I was worried that he was freaking out, but he said he was calming down because it all seemed so familiar.
"What do you mean, it seems so familiar?"
He was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Whenever I do extract, all my trips start out with the same opening visuals."
I asked, "What do you see?"

He adjusted his chair, leaned back and said, "The opening visual field usually contains some brightly lit building blocks. During this latest trip, the building blocks transformed into carvings of mallard ducks. Except they weren't ducks. They were people, all cloned from the same wooden original. They arranged themselves into the shape of a chair. It's like the back of the chair was made of two vertical mallard people connected together by four horizontal mallard people.
I poked his recliner and said, "And then what happened?"

Mr. Swim continued, "I must have blacked out for a few seconds. When I came to, I saw the backside of a human being flowing towards me. As soon as I recognized the form as a human, it immediately began to deconstruct. The human's back broke up into horizontal bricks, and then rematerialized as the flat surface of an end table. This all happened within a couple of seconds. It's as if the human wanted to cloak himself into the table, to hide within its ubiquity."
I stood there trying to gather this all in. Then I asked him,
"So what did you mean when you yelled, 'She's waxing reality off my face'?"

Mr. Swim lifted up his hand and dragged it across his hairline.
"It's like someone grabbed hold of my scalp and ripped my face off. But it wasn't my face being ripped off. It was reality being ripped off. I no longer identified with my material face. I now identified with the visual membrane flowing away from my face. I had been sucked through my eye holes into a visual world that now contained me and all my identity. Time had seemingly broken in two. I could see my face receeding into its own temporal field; and now I was traveling in time through a different temporal field."

I stood there in the darkness watching him, my mouth ajar.
Mr. Swim continued, "There was something beautiful about this visual membrane. It was half organic, half inorganic. It was completely made out of interconnecting entities, similar to people, all working together to form this living, constantly morphing, hyperdimensional tissue. It was like an alien civilization living in a type of cosmic womb. I knew intuitively that if graphic artists could duplicate what I saw, the world would change overnight. It would be a REVELATION, a REVOLUTION."

Mr. Swim then adjusted his chair back to an upright position.
I asked him if he wanted the light back on, but he replied that he was going to sit there and collect his thoughts. He was considering posting them on the internet.

And so I exited the room and closed the door behind me.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Trippin Thru 2012 With Salvia (9-1-12)

Rotating structural gyroscopes inside burningmouth's tripping cerebellum.
Salvia molecules splattered all across the marbled surface of an inter dimensional skull.

More rotating micro-men attaching together now, lining the walls of a frontal lobe -- strings of bluish-grey neurons streaming throughout a cavernous, swollen womb just behind and just above an alien woman’s totally astonished tri-facial mask.

The three-faced woman slowly opens her white Frigidaire. Inside the cool and sparkly chamber are delicious vegetables composed of little green men reading the evening news. She reaches up and crazily spins her laughing-out-loud faces around and around. Coming to a stop, a starving, bird-like face chomps down on the little green men like they were peas in a pod.

The satiated three faced woman then sucks in her gut and squeezes into a two dimensional membrane as the opposite walls of her other-worldly home suddenly compress together. She and her world then become just another molecular ribbon woven into the fabric of Reality.

(big toke of 18x)
The story of the three faced…… WOOOWWWWWWWWWW.
A new world just now lifted up from burningmouth's flat-topped cranium………..

It was another reality lifting up like a waving, two dimensional molecular ribbon as wide as the Sacramento valley. A man from this other world was holding his arm out as if he were a border agent grasping the edge of a parallel world tightly in his hand. When the flag-shaped, two dimensional world/reality lifted up, he sailed away as if he and his bordering arms were imprinted
in a cloth
from a mast
on a salvia ship
destined for another world.

A TOTALLY OTHER PARALLEL WORLD.

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Trippin Thru 2012 With Salvia (8-30-12)

The following video is a good example of how not to exit an apartment while tripping on salvia.



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HOLY SHIT
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”

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

(earlier)
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.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Can Salvia Lead People To God?



"Hell no...whhaaatt?"
You're possibly thinking, "Why bring God into the discussion? Why should salvia be contaminated by theological references? Actually, I'm not referring to the Judeo-Christian concept of God. I'm talking more about the idea of God as a behind the scenes energy force. Hear me out.

Recently, I watched some mandelbulb animations. Apparently, mandelbulbs are a very recent phenomenon. While viewing the animations, I was in awe of the stark beauty of the alien landscapes. I noticed that they looked like the visual structures I see during my salvia trips.

However, there is one major difference between the mandelbulb animations and salvia structures. I see nothing anthropomorphic in the mandelbulbs: no people, no familiar objects, no sense of language or intelligent code.

On the other hand, the salvia structure is filled with familiar scenery. For example, I sometimes see what I call 'interconnecting peoploids', humanoid figures that are attached together. These peoploids are constantly morphing and changing as they tunnel into the salvia mindscape. The sense of art work is mind blowing. I can only draw at the level of a six year old. Therefore, who or what is responsible for the complex artistic movements? Could it perhaps be the work of an unseen intelligence or energy force? Am I witnessing a reflection of God in my salvia visuals?

Now, getting back to the mandelbulbs. Wouldn't it be wild, if by increasing the computing power and resolution of the processes which create these bulbs, we actually began to see anthropomorphic beings or a language/code embedded in them. I think it would be wild, and I think it's possible. What a great way for the hidden hand of the Prime Mover to reveal him/her/it self.
Can I get an amen?

I want to elaborate on the afterglow state. When I am in the afterglow, I feel unattached to my surroundings. I am aware, but my awareness is floating free of my ego. It's as if my ego has been washed by a billion soothing salvinorin molecules. But as I sit there, I know that in a few minutes I will start fidgeting. The reintegration back into everday consciousness is inevitable. The salvinorin molecules begin to deactivate, and as they do so, I become more and more aware of my surroundings.

It's like there are a million electrical plugs slowly being plugged back into the wall of EGO. And as they are plugged back in, I begin to remember the dualistic associations like approach/ avoidance and likes/ dislikes. Anyway, salvia is a great tool with which to understand the subtle processes of the mind.

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Holy Fuck
I just did some 10x. It was very fucking strong. I felt like I was at the boundary between life and (death?). I was floating through some sort of medium with many, many crisscrossing (arms/hands?). They were gently caressing me as if letting me know I had a choice between staying there in salvia land or returning here to consensus reality.

I knew this was a big deal as it was happening. My heart was grinding as if it was about to stop beating. If it had stopped beating, I would have been gently taken away by all the crisscrossing arms/hands. They looked like balloon animal arms. They were human/angel arms but they looked like balloon arms.

There was no rotation. There were no wheels. There were beings, but they were there only to help me navigate between the two worlds of life and (death/salvialand).

This experience was totally new. Totally unexpected. It was all about CROSSING OVER. Death seemed like no big deal. The beings were there to help me make the transition.

This trip had a major life and AFTERLIFE quality to it. The beings were part of the afterlife.

Death is not something to be feared. It is simply a crossing over from one realm to the next. Beings are there to help you when the time comes. It is creepily joyful.

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Later....
I just did a hit of plain leaf. It's funny how salvia can immediately give someone a reverence for 'the moment'.

Prior to taking the hit, my relationship with my surrounding reality was the usual ennui, the usual boredom with a touch of angst. After the visual eye candy ceased, I was bathed in the moment, a sacred awareness of the spacious and open world I was embedded in. If only I could have captured this feeling for a much longer duration. Wherever I stood, I would be in direct contact with 'the moment'. The moment that magically shuts away all graspings for secondary things. Just the primary moment.......that is, until the last of the salvinorin molecules slip through the hour glass.