Citation: Catfish Rivers. "Nothing Is but I AM: experience with AMT, Clonazepam & Cannabis (ID 8742)". Erowid.org. Apr 11, 2002. erowid.org/exp/8742
|DOSE: T+ 0:00
||(powder / crystals)
| T+ 0:00
||Pharms - Clonazepam
||(pill / tablet)
| T+ 1:00
||(powder / crystals)
'Nothing is but I am', the phrase filled slowly with the breath of a giant. Somehow this seemingly innocuous mantra had wormed its way into my vocal cords. It seemed ripe from the fat tree of forbidden new age fruits. No self respecting automaton would willfully admit to such nonsense. Next, we'll trade in our bibles and guns for magnetic feathers and colloidal silver.
'Nothing is...' no nothing is, the closest we can pin anything down in Reality is that it appears, or that it seems so.' ...But I am' that seems certain enough, but then I realize that Nothing IS, which negates I AM. Paper beats rock. The laws of nature can not be tricked by words as easily as we.
And thank god for that ability, or falability if you prefer, for through a slight bit of unconscious balderdashing, the phrase reapeared suddenly brazen with new meaning and solid intent, 'Nothing is but I am.' Each breath swallowing whole, the paradox of owning the Illusion. I AM exists in the void, all else is Maya.
Or maybe it means that NOTHING IS and I am a figment of my own imagination. Is that even possible? I feel the need for some mental liquid drano. And so on...
And so the 3-6 hour point of a 50 mg, oral, AMT experience transpired. My thoughts become a heinous tangle of knots and snags.
If only I was a 4th dimensional being, I would have more room to figure this stuff out. The first effects were felt even prior to actual ingestion. I had just received my lab sample, and somehow cross-contamination occurred. I spilled some on my banana. As I thought about the starving children throughout the world so logically, I realized I had to eat the infected banana. Actually, someone actually wrote that this happened in some TFMPP report. What I believe happened (for real this time) was that I absorbed or inhaled the powder whilst I was separating it into the proper dosage units. So, even prior to ingestion I had what I like to call, 'activation in my temples.' The phrase sounds both religious and sci-fi at the same time and is how I describe the candy, soft glowing feeling that you get in your temples and third eye area when the elves are working some serious O.T. in the serotonin factory.
So with my temples already activated, I ingested 25 mg in a gelcap to start, along with .5 mg clonazepam to reduce any psychic tension during the ascent. My plan was to ingest 50 mg total, but to take it in two doses separated by at least an hour. After reading about the nausea and jitters many folks have experienced, this seemed the logical approach, not to overload the system all at once. Within 30 minutes I was settling back to a nice case of perma grin. Some slight accleration of the heart was noticed, coupled with some slight twicthin of the leg muscles. Yawning also began around the hour mark. Tracers and vanishing objects were starting to wiggle there way into my perception.
I had taped The Power of Myth off of ch. 13 and was set to watch it through. In hindsight, this may have been the whole spark for my mantra. I'm sure that the void was mentioned at least a dozen times, or then again I could have imagined that... However, the question remains, which came first: The question, or the answer?
Semantic buffoonery. That's what transgressed between the time where I ingested the second 25 mg gelcap. Asking myself pointless questions with the full expectation of staring Profundity itself in the dark eye. A bowl of cannabis synergized wonderfully, rounding out the AMT chemical signature with some desperately needed warm static around the soul. Try as I might the static could not keep me, I kept returning to the lament that words run me. There is no escape. Except perhaps through drugs and meditation. Or perhaps even more likely, a serendiptious bolt of lightning.
It strikes me as odd that many repoters have claimed little to no cognitive enhancements/alterations while on AMT. It certainly appears to have lodged a molecule or two in between my language nueron clusters. I began to realize that I was running myself around in circles chasing my own withered carrot on a rope. It was nearing the 2 hour point, and everything my eyes took in was awash with movement. The words on my computer screen melted and reformed with the poignancy of liquid metal. The pink celing insullation tacked up to my basement ceiling seemed to flow like the ether it self, as if cotton candy was the root of all existence. And wouldn't that be nice...
The amount of visual distortion was impressive in shear scope, but not much in the way of artful or bearing inner wisdoms (at least I didn't find any). I felt cheated in a way, here I was neck deep in dancing cotton candy but I had not noticed any of the supposed MDMA like feelings. Nothing remotely similar was felt in the way of a 'candyflip' experience either. Perhaps its been too long away for me from LSD and MDMA to recognize the parralel lines as prominently drawn as the rest of the reports seesm to indicate. Or perhaps the empathogen qualities would have been more pronounced had I spent the evening with friends.
My mood was certainly in an elevated state, I had extra energy (aeb, leg twicthing and excessive semantic twitching), but nothing I could really say belong to either MDMA or LSD. AMT seemed to bear more resemblence to DPT freebase in my mind, except an assload longer of a trip in the AMT, which length ironically seemed to both make time lag and go by very quickly at the same time. My mind was certainly in a haze, something thick and humid was felt. As if my brain had been saturated by the 'Syrup of Wahoo!' (T. Robbins)
More cannabis was imbibed at about the 2:30 mark.
Which returns me to Nothing is But I am. I almost was able to lose my sense of meaning behind the words as I repeated them in full earnest. The words become almost musical notes, the sound of a train on it track. CEVs run rampant throughout the chanting. I felt as if I had the best ever psychedelic screen saver hardwired into my pineal gland. Slight jaw tension/facial tension felt. Soon I found myself surfing a wave of incongrous thoughts, not quite delusional, for I was aware that things were not making sense but in a seemingly beautiful way. Again, some 4rth dimensional space would be nice. I wonder if I was able to rotate myself in the 4rth dimension, would I come back with my insides all reversed? I certainly felt that some of my insides at least had already gone though the ole switch a roo.
Luckily I experienced no real nausea or any side effect that were unbearable. Cannabis repeatedly revitalized the experience as it seemed to lose some steam. Visuals varied from strange geometric houdini worms to actual day dream visions. These were interesting as I actually felt myself 'slip' my focus into the fantasy almost to the point that I existed in that place instead. The sensation was similar to that of the falling sensation sometimes felt at the onset of sleep, but slower and warmer.
Butterflies stil swam in my stomach, but at least they weren't cold butterflies. These visions were all very pleasant and easy. Beaches and grassy hills. Dreaming awake. It's a bizarre mix of getting amnesia and watching reruns on late night t.v. And soon it enough I find myself gaping not at reruns, but infomercials that once again absorbed the entirety of my puny attention span. Their mouths all move so fast. Jabber jabbo jibeee!
Shpongle was incredible on repeat place as a sonic backdrop behind the t.v. Somewhere in the above mess I found time to also watch 'Fear and Lothing in Las Vegas.' But I can not remember ay what point I watched it. But I'm convinced it was the damned reptilian 4th dimensional overlords again. Messing with my head again. Nothing is, But I am still thinking about this phrase well past the point where I decided that sleep would be a pitiful joke, a farse. I sit an try to meditate, but I am determined to fall asleep. Which doesn't help me actually do it. My mind slows down, as if congealing. I can feel a certain burned out feeling in my head, as if some warm syrup had spread throughout my brain.
And eventually, the gods have mercy. Sleep comes sometime between the 13-15 hour. All in all a good experience, but quite an investment of time is required. This one requires planning and time manegment skills. Hang on tight.
Experience Reports are the writings and opinions of the individual authors who submit them.
Some of the activities described are dangerous and/or illegal and none are recommended by Erowid.