OK, this isn't strictly this day, but it works as well as any other for it...
begins with my friend
Walter telling me that he had acquired the mushrooms
, something I had been mulling over for nearly two years. I had recently confided in him that I felt I was ready to try them, having done occasional research into them for almost a year. He arrived at my home around eleven PM to pick me up, and we went on our way. We stopped to gather drinks and food
, thinking that they would be very important on the trip
. We finally arrived at his house around 11:30.
Around 11:40, we began preparing the mushrooms by grinding them with a common mortar and pestle. I had been told that the taste was like that of feet, so I wanted to reduce whatever taste I could. At 11:45, I placed 1/16th (I refuse to call it a half-eighth) of an ounce into my mouth after a bit of fumbling, and began to chew. The taste wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected it to be, but it was far from being any good. Walter told me I should hold the mushrooms in my mouth under my tongue for as long as I could bear, which I estimate to be a little under a minute. I washed them down with a bit of lemon lime soda after that, making sure to clear any remaining bits from my mouth.
I opened my laptop out onto the bed, and connected myself to his hub, tested that I had Internet access, and launched my instant messaging client. Walter reminded me that the people I did communicate with I would feel differently about, which was something I should keep in mind.
The delay to initial onset was very short, and at 11:57, I began to feel as if my legs had been weighted down, almost like I had been exercising all day, but without the pain usually associated with that kind of weakness. Walter went out to the back of the house, presumably to smoke marijuana. At about midnight, though, I became extremely giggly, and knew that I was “coming up” much quicker than I had expected.
By 12:04, though, things became much more intense. At this point, it felt like well over an hour had passed, and my monitor began to wiggle in my perception. This made it very difficult to type, but I wanted to log the experience as best I could, so I typed along, fixing numerous errors, although many of them I simply did not care enough to fix, something those who know me would find very difficult to believe.
At 12:05, which might as well have been twenty to thirty minutes away from 12:04, I began to giggle and laugh much harder than before, which was somewhat painful due to a pre-existing shoulder problem that I had failed to take into account. The pain of my shoulder was an interesting condition, because despite my otherwise detached perceptions, pain was very much the same as it was before.
12:09 rolled around, and it was absolutely impossible for me to stop laughing. As if a very very good joke had been told, no amount of willpower was sufficient for me to stop. This somewhat frightened me, as I became worried about people knowing what I was doing. I had been told many times that no one can tell if you are tripping unless you tell them, but I highly doubt that even now. I felt as if I needed to go to the bathroom, but it also felt as if my colon was escaping, and I became worried that I wouldn't be able to deal with an experience even as mundane as a bowel movement.
Around 12:11, I began to feel as if my entire body was vibrating. Not shaking, which would, I believe, imply large crude movements, but vibrating, which was a very low buzzing effect throughout my entire body. Two minutes later, which was a virtual eternity away (it is very difficult to express the feeling of the time dilation, but I liken it to the same way time seems to pass when one is bored, only exaggerated, and much more fun) , I made an experimental attempt to push the feeling away, something I had learned to do with alcohol (the only other drug I had ever used in my life), but was unsuccessful. This frightened me, as with alcohol, I had relied on the ability to appear sober when I needed to.
Not too long later, though, he edges of text and application windows began to shift, as if they had been printed with each color as a separate layer and not matched up correctly. The colors were also very vibrant, almost saturated in appearance. My original, raw log recalls it as "Holy fuck, the colors and edges". At 12:22, my typing was much more erratic, and I began lifting my hands up into the air and holding them there and then dropping them, as they felt light, but heavy at the same time.
12:30 rolled about, and I began to wonder what eating would be like. I was determined to experiment with all five senses. This turned out to be futile, as I couldn't lift the bottle with my drink in it to my lips on the rare occasions I remembered to even open it. I couldn't remember where I had put the burritos I had bought, but I doubt I would have been able to eat them.
Soon after, however, I overheard Walter and our guest talking about tacos, and I became angry that they were eating mine, despite this not being the truth. Time dilation became very extreme at this point, and I began to see patterns in places I normally wouldn't. The wood grain of the door became very coherent, and I was able to see the pattern of the art from a Magic the Gathering card in it. The effect was very similar to when catholics see the virgin mother in various objects. I looked at the door the next day, and there was absolutely no resemblance anymore.
About now, at 12:32, I realized that Walter had been working at putting the monitor by the bed so we could observe it while listening to music. They kept insisting that I move to the other side of the bed, but all I could really observe in response was "Why?", bearing a wide grin on my face. I was enjoying myself too much where I was to move over wherever they were asking me to. Eventually, they convinced me to move, although it took a bit more work to help me figure out where I was supposed to move. I was much happier where I was, although I am told that I had been repeatedly bumping my head into the wall, which was creating enough noise to draw unwanted attention.
At this point, Walter put headphones on me ( I couldn't manage to put them on myself ) and began to play Pink Floyd's "Breathe". Synthesia took over at this point, and I flung the headphones off in a pain response, as the headphones were very very hot and burning me. This of course was not actually the case, but it didn't matter, that was what I felt. The headphones remained warm-feeling for the remainder of the trip, but the initial response was so shocking that I remember it very well.
With 12:53 coming about, I began to observe that the mouse cursor was moving on its own. Whether this is due to the drug or machine failure is unknown, and likely will be forever. I was apparently still very frightened, as Walter kept telling me to mellow out, something about reasoning it out. Reason was the farthest thing away from me at this point. EVERYTHING was very far away. It was if the bed was a little island, and everything else was full of shark infested waters, I just didn't want to leave the bed. I didn't want to leave. Just then, my cellphone rang, and I felt it vibrating against the side of my right leg. The trouble is, I don't own a cellphone, and haven't for several months.
I decided I should communicate with someone, and I made the unfortunate choice of an ex girlfriend, who was also tripping. I now regret this, as I feel much more attached to her than I did before, and although I want to be with her, I know I cannot. She has expressed no such interest. Talking with other people was very interesting, as words had more meaning, as if they had taken on a voice of their own. The voice was much like the ones used in my dreams, in that they lacked actual audio, but were made more of thought and concept than anything else. A friend from Chicago messaged me, and I could feel a sting with her words, as they were very sad and bitter, and I wanted to heal her and make her feel better.
A minute later (it is difficult to convey the length of these minutes), I began to feel like I was sweating. A wipe of my brow revealed this to not be the case, but I felt like I wanted to lay down. It was then that I realized that I would neither be able to log all of this experience, nor would I be able to put it all into some coherent form for others to read. Too much happens far too quickly, and I fear it will be impossible to ever accurately describe the experience. I'm trying anyways, but I'm on a fourth revision, and it's still nowhere close. People need to know how amazing these are, though.
My vision became put into lines that reminded me of a kaleidoscope, and then as if Circuit City logos had been watermarked into the air. I asked myself if this is what deleria would be like, but dismissed it, as deleria could never possibly be this good. I again commented that the music was very warm.
1:02 had a single entry of "I'm melting", after a quick correction of the time to 1:01.
Shortly after (my timestamps are illegible at this point, although I was able to make sense of some of the words I put into the log) I again noted the time dilation effects, but with emphasis on how sudden changes still bothered me in the same way they typically did. I also noted that I needed to remember to breath less erratically (this was likely due to the pain of my shoulder, and I recommend that anyone who does trip do so while in good physical condition and free of pain)
At 1:15, I observed that out of my peripheral vision, everyone's face began to take on either a bony quality or a that of a dog. It was as if I could see them perfectly without even looking at them, though. I commented to myself that I should purchase a dog ; however, my family already owns a labrador retreiver. In this same minute, I became convinced I could feel my laptop's pain, and began to listen very carefully at the noises the hard drive and fans made, even though I knew very clearly that it made no sense to do so. My head began to sink to the bed, and I reveled in the soft feel of the bed clothes.
At this point, about 1:26, the others began to want to go somewhere else, although I didn't want to leave. Frank was over at this point ( I had just realized who my earlier mentioned visitor was ), and he was talking to me in a manner that made me wonder why he was talking to me like a dog. I began writing this into my log until it occurred to me that I shouldn't tell my log my problems with him, I should tell him. Of course, this problem was only perceived, and not real, but I needed to tell him anyways. There was talk of going into the basement, but I was firmly entrenched in the belief that my socks were too wet to make this possible.
Further talk of going somewhere frightened me, as a sentiment to drive became apparent. I felt as if I had to step in and tell them that we couldn't, but I was reassured that it was the new "sitter" that would be driving. I then realized someone had IM'd me. I believe it was Jessica. I felt very detached at her, if that makes sense, and her words conveyed a sense of sadness. She was asking about a New Year's party, and I informed her that I didn't know about the things she was asking because it was not my party.
Frank was VERY tall.
The Beatles were playing in my headphones, and it became apparent their intent with some of the songs they had written. They were obviously tripping, or intended them for people who were.... parts with the lyrics repeating seemed to go on endlessly, warm within my head. Unfortunately, at this point, my log ends. I recall eventually stumbling over to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. Walter looked fine, however, my own face was something more resembling a poorly forged Picasso, with one eye much smaller than the other, and one eye exaggerated to comical proportions. My nose appeared very slender, and the premise that someone couldn't know what I was on was very foreign. I knew that portions of my physical appearance only appeared that way to me, but some features, I felt, had to be obvious to others. After a bit more stumbling we found our way out to the garage, which I decided was very cold and walked back to the bed. Although I wanted to explore more, I couldn't manage the feeling of being removed from the warmth, because it was so happy and beautiful.
Anyways, I was going to come down soon, which I realized was pleasantly like being drunk, although unpleasantly unlike the original effects. I wasn't too happy about this, but decided to go read Fark.com. The people on it pissed me off, as their vitriol and bitterness struck through clear as day, and their words again took shape as not words but voices. I leaned back against the wall and thought to myself “These people suck, they need to be nicer to each other”.
Listening to music again brought back the original effects, which came as a surprise. The effects became renewed. This went on for a few more hours, and although it wasn't nearly as intense as before, it was a very pleasant feeling that left me grinning like an idiot.
One thing I do recall very strongly, and something that I wish I had the words to better explain, is the very intense feelings of empathy I experienced. Talking to people was a more real experience, although difficult, because I was frightened that they might discover what I was doing and hate me for it. It doesn't make sense now, but it did then.