Introduction: This is something I wrote to describe a recent mushroom trip. It's in the format of an interview, with the "O" standing for "Oburo" (which is me) and "M" standing for the mushroom.

M: “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. –,” he takes a glance at his clipboard. “Oburo.”

O: “The pleasure is mine, sir.”

M: “Now it says here that you have experience with alcohol and marijuana, and that you have consumed magic mushrooms on only one prior occasion. Is that correct?”

O: “Yes sir, however I have done considerable research and I believe I am prepared to increase the dosage to 1/4th oz.”

M: “That is quite an ambitious amount. What made you decide on this dosage?”

O: “Well, sir, on my first attempt I consumed 1/8th oz, but felt minimal effects. I believe that this amount will ensure that I will experience a true psychedelic state.”

M: “I see. And will you be doing this with a sober assistant?”

O: “No sir, I’m not sure if any of my friends would do that for me, and I’d feel too uncomfortable to ask. As I’ve stated, however, I have done my research and I believe I can cope with anything that you throw at me.”

M: “Uh huh. Well, I respect your confidence. Close your eyes, and let’s get this show on the road.” He rises from the desk, and locks the door behind me.


M: “Ok. You’re going out on your front steps to have a cigarette. You notice some flashes of light, but no serious visuals as of yet. The railings on both sides of the stairs are illuminated from opposite directions by two different street lights, and their shadows overlap, creating a crisscrossing pattern. This fascinates you, and you almost forget about the cigarette in your hand.”

O: “Wow, that really is pretty cool.”

M: “But it’s getting cold outside, and as much as you would like to stay and ponder the pattern before you, you feel like going inside and listening to some music in bed.”

O: “Oh. Alright then.”

M: “Now listen, Mr. Oburo. I want to tell you something important. You are very special.”

O: “I am?”

M: “Yes. You’re the man. You have such a bright future ahead of you. Remember that trip to Europe you were planning with your friends today? That’s going to be so awesome. You’re so caught up in yourself and how awesome everything is, you forget why you’re in your room in the first place. Why don’t you just lie down and take it all in.”

O: “Wow, I never thought of myself that way. This is the best feeling I’ve ever had.”

M: “Oh I’m not done with you quite yet, Mr. Oburo. I want you to feel everything around you. Feel your body. Feel the coiled cord of your headphones, your nice warm sheets, the smooth, polished wood of your desk, the cool metal of you bedframe.”

O: “Haha, you’re totally right. I never feel these things, but they’re so…. just, incredibly… awesome! I can’t even think of any other word!”

M: “Excellent, it looks like you understand everything I’ve been trying to show you so far. But now, I want to take this somewhere different. Now these sensations which fascinated you seem foreign, even your own body. You realize that this is all a product of your mind. In fact, nothing exists except your mind. Your memories are all lies, and you have not existed before this very moment. You begin to think that your mind is the only thing that exists, eternally in this very moment. You are the universe.

O: “Whoa man, you’re right. I am the universe, the universe is me. I’m not just the most special person in the world, I’m the only person in the world!”

M: “This is indeed a great feeling, and you want to keep feeling this way for as long as possible. You’re going to pack a bowl of weed, and go outside to smoke it."

O: “Right again, man. I love smoking weed, and what could be better than to do the things I love while feeling the best I’ve ever felt?”

M: “Exactly. You go out the back door, lighter in one hand, bowl in the other. But this time, you realize that your mind, the universe, has become fractured. You try to bring the lighter to the bowl, but you realize that you can focus on only one side of you at a time. Also, the world seems so big now, and you feel like you are three feet tall. Or maybe the ground has sunk. Or both. You have no idea, and you become incredibly confused. You succeed in bringing the lighter to the bowl, but it feels wrong. You forget how to smoke it. You try focus instead on the dichotomy of perception between your right and left sides.”

O: “Well I wasn’t expecting this, but it’s actually pretty cool. I feel like my mind is expanding, that I’m experiencing a hidden truth that is at once confusing and thrilling.”

M: “Indeed you are. You’ve basically given up on smoking, and you want to go back inside. However, you realize that turning around to leave requires interaction between your fractured left and right sides. This is more than you can handle. You are stuck out here, but it doesn’t worry you. You use this time to reflect about yourself.”

O: “Alright, I’ll think about myself for a while. But I should really go inside soon as it is very cold out here.”


M: “Upon reflection, you begin to ask yourself why you do drugs at all. Why you have to hide, and why you always seem to be running. You realize that all your life you’ve been in a constant struggle against cops, doctors, and your parents. You beginning to regret what you’ve done tonight, and you want to stop running. You want it to be over.”

O: “Ok this really isn’t cool man, I want to go inside. Now.”

M:“Alright, you successfully overcome your fractured state by strength of will. You head back inside to the kitchen, and cross into the living room, and then into the kitchen, and then into the living room.”

O: “Wait, that’s not right. What’s going on? Where am I?”

M: “Who knows? You begin to panic, and run in circles a few more times. Wait! There are the stairs. Take them!”

O: “Finally!”

M: “You run up the stairs halfway, turn left at the landing, run up some more, turn at the landing, run up some more, turn at the landing…”

O: “Holy shit, I’m not going to make it, am I?”

M: “No, you’re not. You begin to feel very, very heavy. You fall near the top of the stairs, and pull your bedsheets over you.”

O: “Wait, what? I thought I was just on the stairs. How did I get here?”

M: “I don’t know. Maybe you’re still there, and only think you’re in bed. Or maybe you’re still outside. It is starting to get pretty cold, after all…”

O: “Holy shit, holy shit, holy sh-“

M: “Wow, let’s see… you have no idea where you are or how you got there, and you can’t make these feelings go away. You still feel like you are the universe, and that you memories are all lies, so you really don’t know who you are, either. You’re insane, man. Batshit insane, and there’s no going back.”

O: “No!”

M: “But it doesn’t really matter how nuts you are, or where you are, because you’re dead now. You, the universe, are dead. This is not something you can wake up from.”

O: “But nobody dies from this! How can I be dead? I haven’t even lived yet! And what does this mean for everyone else? Have I killed the whole universe, the only intelligent being in existence, all for some stupid bit of fun? I can’t have. Why is this happening?”

M: “Too bad dude, you’re dead, and it’s too late for anything to save you. You, the universe, died - cold, confused, and utterly alone - somewhere around 4:00 this morning. Way to go.”

O: “Please, I’m sorry. I just want to wake up. I’ll do anything. Just not this. I don’t want to die like this.”

M: “Haha, just kidding, you’re not really dead. It’s 7:00 in the morning now, and you feel no more effects. Now get the fuck out of my office, you punk ass bitch. I don’t ever want to see your sorry face again.”

O: “I, um, I’m not dead?”

M: “No, moron, now scatter before I kick your ass again.”

O: “…… Thank you”


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