Sedentary Travels

Thanks to Anonymous for submitting this post. Enjoy. -- BB

I try to be open minded to most things that life has to offer. If I find myself getting into too much of a habit of doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results (I think Einstein equated that to insanity), or if I find the every-day to be somewhat tedious, I will do something completely out of character to help myself feel alive and to keep things interesting.

I took mushrooms last week.

At first, I was very reluctant to do them, but I did research and talked to people I know who have done them, so I had some idea as to what I was getting into. One of my friends who had taken them before said that it would be a good idea to have someone sober around, a babysitter, so to speak. That person’s role would be to help steer the person back to something positive if they start to have a bad trip. Plus, I wouldn’t want to come out of it not knowing where I am, in jail, or worse.

So I mentally prepared myself, gathered a couple of DVDs, my Mp3 player, some food, and headed over to my friend’s place to get out of my mind. Once in a while, I wish I could see the world through a different set of eyes, so this, in theory, was just what I was looking for.

I was pretty hungry when I took them, which is the right thing to do. Food blocks the absorption. The “reality” of tripping was different than I had imagined.

For the first forty minutes or so, my friend and I sat and shot the breeze, every once in a while sort of testing me to see if it had hit me yet. He left the room shortly thereafter, and that’s about the time that it started to hit me. The walls appeared to be breathing, but my logical mind assumed that the walls were mirroring my breathing. The visual part was only minimal; no streamers like I thought there would be.

It’s somewhat difficult to describe how it was on them, though I remember everything clearly. The best way to describe it would be to say that I was emotionally tripping. There was a body high, but the way everything made me feel was the most noticeable effect. I was able to start breaking life itself down into terms that made everything more clear and bearable (vague, I know). Imagine looking at the intricate gears of a complex machine and understanding how and why the parts work. “Meaning of life” types of thoughts.

After a while, they started to have more of an effect. Astronomy and the universe are interests of mine, and my mind started going down that path. My mind’s eye started seeing some really interesting things pertaining to space travel, phenomena, black holes, and the like. At that point, I was having a blast. My friend then came in and asked how I was doing. Since my reaction was a good one, he asked if I wanted to take it to the next level. Of course I did. Mistake.

I took the second dose, and my friend went to bed shortly thereafter. At that point, I wanted to keep going with the thoughts of the universe, so I put on a DVD about the cosmos. I know now that we take for granted our ability to work certain things. The thought process changes so much when you’re tripping that you can space out what things are and how they work. The TV and DVD player became a puzzle, and it took a little bit for logic, trial, and error to finally yield the results I wanted. Play.

The DVD I watched was called Cosmic Voyage, which was originally an Imax movie totaling about 36 minutes. In a sense, time travel was possible. The DVD seemed to last for hours, though I know it is exactly 36 minutes. Morgan Freeman narrates, and I must say that his voice is quite comforting in that state. Sort of like an empathetic sage. It starts off in Venice, Italy, and slowly expands in meters by powers of ten, then in light-years by powers of ten. First you see people, then the city, then the country, then the Earth, and it keep panning out until it reaches the perimeter of the known/visible universe. I felt like I was going to these places, which has sort of always been a fantasy of mine. It then goes from the insanely large scale down to a molecular one. It starts with a drop of water and magnifies by negative powers of ten through a micro-universe until it gets down to the smallest known level, quarks. I was disappointed when the DVD ended and I was back on Earth.

I was told that even little events, noticing a pebble on the ground for example, could make one have mood swings, and I was in store for a big one in the following hours. There was other people in my friends house that I did not care to see (they were real people, not imagined). Well, once the documentary was over, I realized that I really had to piss. Lemon juice serves as somewhat of a diuretic, but it also helps the effects of the mushrooms. Here’s where it starts going downhill. So, as I headed toward the restroom (by this point, walking was not at all something that came automatically to me; motor functions became another puzzle), I noticed that the restroom was occupied. My friend’s roommate was fucking her boyfriend in the shower. Great. After waiting for a very long, uncomfortable time, they finally cleared the bathroom. During my trip, I started realizing certain things about my friend’s roommate that I won’t go into, but suffice it to say that certain issues I had with her that I could not quite explain to myself became crystal clear. As I mentioned, little things can hinder one’s emotions big time in that state. Well, when I went into the restroom, it was filthy and the floors were soaking wet. The discomfort of my socks getting soaking wet, paired with situational mnemonic devices from my past sent my mood into a southern downward spiral. After getting back to the couch, I noticed that it was very cold in the room, yet I was sweating. For some reason, I didn’t think to get any water, even though I knew I was thirsty and hungry (remember, I was hungry when I took them). At that point, I knew I wanted to go home, but there was no way that that was going to happen, so I tried to make the best of my situation. The worst is what I got.

Because it was dark, I could only see silhouettes of things. I then noticed that my hand looked like that of a corpse, which started me down the path of thinking about death. At this point, I started to understand insanity, which is very strange. Ever come across someone on the street or wherever and think that they’re totally fucking insane? Well, I knew them, and they made perfect sense. At this point, I lost the concept of self. My mind wandered, things happened to me (I was, in reality, simply lying on the couch), and I could do nothing about any of them. I found myself at a Day of the Dead festival, and I was somehow able to understand Spanish. English, on the other hand, was a foreign sound to me. Religion then entered the mix. I was surrounded by religiously fanatical, frightened people who were chanting something at me. Think of the people who see Jesus in a piece of toast and think that they’ve either been saved or that the world is about to end. I concluded that the chanters were all cowards who were looking to sources outside of themselves to save them, when all they really needed was a sense of self fulfillment. At that point, I knew I was going to die, but unlike the chanting fools, I was not afraid. They were weaklings who sought the good favor of a jealous and petty god with whom I wanted no relation. The subject of existence versus non-existence, pertaining to everything, not just things religious in nature, began to swim through my consciousness. Though I am not religious, the experience left me somewhat more spiritual (and less religious, if that’s possible) than I was beforehand.

For a brief period, my logical mind kicked in and let me know that I was not, in fact, about to die. I remembered being told that I was on a rollercoaster that could not be exited, so I had to just sit back and try to enjoy the ride. I thought to wake my friend up so that he could help me get back to a positive mindset, but I didn’t want to bother him. Part of me wishes that I had, but another part is glad that I faced those things head on. Plus, I’m pretty sure that I would have had trouble speaking. The whole thing lasted for about 6.5 hours.

The next morning was awful though. I ended up getting very dehydrated, which lead to unbearable nausea and a migraine headache. Needless to say, the following day was not too enjoyable.

In the end, the experience gave me a little more perspective on life and was a positive mental experience. Physically, it was awful. If I choose to do it again, it will be in the comfort of my own home, minus the presence of people I don’t wish to see, and I will certainly eat and drink plenty of liquid. It’s impossible to adequately convey the experience in words, but this should give those who might be curious a small idea as to what could be expected if they ever take them. The good was worth the bad.