One week ago I did shrooms for the second time, this is the story of my journey.

Dose: 1/8 ounce chopped up and swallowed in water with a dash of lemon.

I took the shrooms at about midnight, while my 4 friends, Ryan, Steven, Erin, and Bryan each took half a tab of ecstasy. While I was waiting for the psilocybin to reach my brain I began to arrange the room so that there wouldn't be anything to trip over while I was tripping (pun intended). All the lights were extinguished except for a black light. The trip started out normally with a spacy feeling and sense of being slowly elevated. I knew from my first time doing shrooms that I would know when the trip had started when I could consciously manifest open eye visions. So when I started to notice an increased sensitivity to light, I laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. The patterns in the ceiling were random and would provide a good medium for self induced hallucinations. After a few minutes the random patterns turned into a bas relief of tribal patterns, and the colors of the light began to adjust to the tone of the music. When I closed my eyes the patters stayed, but transformed into brightly colored fractals which pulsated and spun in my mind's eye. There was something else behind the patterns though, a presence, as though a hidden part of myself were standing on the other side of a stained glass window from me. I don't know how long I stayed like this, perhaps 20 minutes, maybe an hour, but here the trip took a slightly bad turn. I started feeling nauseous, so I began to set up my vaporizer. This was a mistake in the state I was currently in, because as I was reaching inside to remove the bowl, the vaporizer seemed to come to life and grab hold of my hand, while the soldering iron inside licked at me and threatened to grind my hand like a blender. I didn't let this freak me out though, I had brought it upon myself, and I enjoyed the surreal pseudo bad trip. But there was still the problem of my ever increasing nausea, so I finished setting up the vaporizer and took a couple hits. Unfortunately I only had bammer, and it didn't help much. I laid back on the couch and tried to control my body, but was unable to get rid of the stomach discomfort completely, and at one point decided I had better move into the bathroom.

Due to my sensitivity to light I entered the bathroom in the dark, and tried to find my way to the toilet by touch. This proved to be more difficult than I expected, since my sense of size and distance were gone completely by this point. I tried to control my stomach again and had some more success this time, perhaps due to the isolation. The nausea was beginning to remind me of the feeling I get when I drink way too much, and it was having a definite effect on my trip. I sat and meditated on the bathroom floor for perhaps half an hour, I couldn't really say how long exactly though because my sense of time had changed dramatically. I think it was about this point that I began to toy with the idea of leaving my body and taking a more literal trip. I was worried, however, that something might happen to my body while I was gone, that maybe it would forget to breathe, or vomit in a bad position and choke to death without my presence. But I decided I would try it anyway, I would just prepare my body so it would be ok while I was gone. With considerable effort I stood up and walked back into the kitchen to find my cup of water. With my dry mouth taken care of I went back into the bathroom and emptied my bladder, so there would be no accidents while I was away. Once again I sat down in front of the toilet and began to meditate. I tried to project my spirit into the other room where my friends were, to try to feel their energies. Perhaps it was just the power of suggestion, but I think I succeeded in some way, and came into contact with their spirits. They were all glowing red, while my own was blue. I returned to my body to check on it. My legs were uncomfortable on the hard bathroom floor, so I moved them until I was satisfied, and then set off on another journey. This time I attempted to contact the spirit of the earth and nature. I felt something, but I wanted to be closer to the earth. I would have gone outside and walked to the park if I could have, but entering and leaving my body was very strenuous and I didn't have the energy at the moment. I tried to call out to my friends without words, to come help me move closer to the earth, but I didn't reach them. In fact, at this point I had almost entirely lost my ability to speak. Language had become something unnesesary. When my friends would come to check on me, I could only smile at them to let them know I was alright.

A lot of my trip blends together in my memory, but I think this was when I transcended into the spirit world and communed with fellow travelers. It was hard to maintain this level of meditation though and I soon returned to my body again. But this time I had brought something back with me. I felt the presence again, and it seemed to be the spirit of an ancient shaman, there to help guide me through this rite of passage. There was another presence as well, what seemed to me to be a wolf spirit, which I believe was representing the spirit of nature to me. I was beginning to think of this as a ritual, part of which involved purging the body. I tried to throw up, but part of me really didn't want to. I was experiencing ego death, and the different parts of my personality were becoming distinct entities in my mind, and they were arguing with each other. My rational part was telling me that it didn't really matter if I vomited or not, the mushrooms wouldn't hurt me and I'd feel better again when they've fully digested. The spiritual part of me insisted that I purge myself in order to communicate with the earth spirit, and some other part of me tried to convice the others that the mushrooms had become a part of me and I shouldn't be feeling sick in the first place. There was no winner, but I ended up not throwing up anyway.

While I was meditating I learned a few things. I learned that the real evil in the world is the force that tells people not to be themselves, the societal pressure that prevents people from doing what they really want to. I learned that there are senses that humans have long since forgotten how to use. I learned that my body is not who I am, but rather just transportation for my spirit, or soul, or whatever you want to call it. And most importantly I learned that every living thing has a life force which contributes to the overall spirit of the earth, and now it is very hard for me to even kill an ant without feeling remorse. Not that I'm totally against killing, it seems to me that if something is killed for food then it doesn't diminish the lifeforce, but if something is killed and left to rot then it is wasted and the earth is injured by it.

I can't think of how to end this properly, so I'll leave you with some links. For a more poetic explaination of what I was going through read the lyrics to The Patient, Parabola, Lateralus, and Reflection, from Tool's new album. As far as I'm concerned they are all about mushroom trips.