Citation: McLovin. "Endless Stream of Parallel Consciousnesses: An Experience with Cannabis (dabs) (exp103764)". Erowid.org. Jan 13, 2018. erowid.org/exp/103764
Before this experience, I had been an infrequent marijuana user and I had eaten psilocybin mushrooms once. The shrooms experience had blown my mind, but it was absolutely nothing compared to what hash did to me.
My friend and housemate had been telling me about this new way to smoke marijuana via hash oil called “dabs”, which was cheaper and got you higher. I was keen to try it, so I went with him to his dealer's house, where we decided to smoke some right there at the house. As a newbie, they let me go first. I put the weird glass contraption to my lips, touched the wire to the nail, and a dirty-white vapor erupted from the oil and flowed through the glass and into my lungs. I inhaled all I could and held it in for a moment, and finally breathed it out. Instantly my eyes filled with tears and I started coughing like crazy; my lungs are pretty sensitive to smoke. Usually when I choke on smoke, coughing helps a little, but this time no matter how much I coughed, the feeling just kept getting worse. Soon the pain started moving “inward”: the best way I can explain it is to say that it starting moving into my heart and then moved “beyond” it, into my soul, so to speak. It was still a sharp, physical pain, but it was no longer attached to any of my body parts. Nothing on my body hurt; rather, my essential being hurt. I wouldn't expect someone who has never experienced this sensation to be able to imagine it. I could barely cope with the pain, not necessarily because it was that strong, but because I had never experienced anything like it before. It felt like my soul was being crumpled like paper.
It felt like my soul was being crumpled like paper.
Finally I couldn't take it anymore and excused myself to go drink some water, thinking that might help. I was still coughing every few seconds, and I hunched over the sink before drinking to compose myself for a second. I was preparing myself to drink some water, but it seemed like so much work. My hands were sweaty and dirty and I would have to wash them with dish detergent before I could drink. Finally I managed to squirt some detergent on my hand and then, this task completed, hunched over the sink to rest again. The world seemed to be getting more distant.
The next thing I new, my mind was playing some kind of movie. It was like a full-on dream, except I was narrating it in a loud voice, from a place somewhere just behind my nose. Like, I was viewing the movie from right behind my nose, and I could see my nose at the top of my vision and my mouth at the bottom. Like with dreams, at first I didn't notice anything was weird. I don't remember anything about the movie except it involved some kind of Oliver Twist-like character. Eventually, I had a sort of epiphany and realized how weird this was. I managed to bring myself back to reality, and my consciousness moved from my nose back to its normal spot. Then I stood there panicking, because I finally realized that I was tripping, but I had no idea how, because hash was supposed to be just basically weed. I was worried that I had smoked something else, like PCP or something. I drank some water from my hand to calm myself and immediately tasted something terrible: I had forgotten to wash the detergent off my hand. The taste of the detergent, like the pain earlier, worked itself inward into my soul. I can't describe it, but for the next few hours my trip was detergent-flavored. I didn't perceive it as a taste, though, but as a color almost. I tried to wash the detergent off and drink more to get the taste out, but the world had started to spin so I again hunched over the sink to rest.
This was the main part of the trip: the speed of it varied throughout the trip, but several times per second, I alternated between conscious and unconscious. It was like a strobe light, except instead of everything just going dark, all of existence, including myself, would stop existing for a fraction of a second and then come back. Each time I regained consciousness, I felt like a different “version” of myself, like there were millions of parallel universes, each containing an exact copy of me, and all the different versions of my consciousness were cycling through my head. At one point I sensed a sort of roll of film, where each slide was a different parallel consciousness, and it came out of space and wrapped around my being, and then was “fed” into my vision, where every slide became the world that I saw. With each new consciousness, my memories from the previous consciousness were drastically reduced and quickly disappeared entirely, so trying to form a sentence took all the effort I had, because I had to remember what I had said, where I was in the sentence, and what I had left to say, and I had to rememorize this with every new consciousness, or it would be lost in a few seconds. At one point I remember that I came up with a plan to enjoy the trip, but I didn't focus on keeping it in my memory enough and it was lost after about a minute. I still don't know what it was.
Eventually, my buddy came out to check on me and was pretty alarmed because I was apparently white as a sheet. I managed to tell him something was wrong and that what was happening was way crazier than what had happened on shrooms. He reassured me that it couldn't have been any other drug I had smoked, because we had all smoked the same thing and everyone else was fine. He called the other guy we had come with and said we had to go because something was wrong with me. They said bye to the dealer and then we left. I barely remember anything about the ride home but I vaguely recall my brain playing more movies, including a romantic drama between my arms and legs. It was like someone else had taken control of my brain and whenever I looked at something new, it would form entire epic backstories for it, without any effort from me. This again is very hard to explain. Normally we can choose what we think, but my brain was working on its own, against my will. This might have been the worst part of the trip. It was indescribably terrifying to not have control over my own thoughts.
It was indescribably terrifying to not have control over my own thoughts.
All this was going on while I was still rapidly phasing in and out of consciousness.
We arrived at home and my friend told me to eat something. I didn't have the energy to respond. I just walked straight up to my room, locked the door and blacked out right before I reached my bed; I woke up probably a few minutes later, luckily sprawled on my bed. I laid there for a while and then threw up in my trash can. The simple act of throwing up was so much effort that I immediately felt faint and laid back in my bed. After a while I gradually regained control of my thoughts, and it seemed the consciousness strobe light effect was slowing too. I still had the taste of detergent and now puke in my mouth, so I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Suddenly I felt like I would faint again and rushed back to my room, again barely making it to my bed. My mouth tasted better, but the detergent flavor had worked itself into my inner being and remained there.
I again laid there for a while and let the trip happen, and the strobing slowed down further. Gradually, it turned into something else: now, reality was split into thousands of little squares, which undulated in incredible patterns. I put some music on, and the squares danced to it; this part of the trip was actually pretty enjoyable. I just laid there enjoying the patterns. At one point, for about half an hour, I began experiencing literally an exact replica of my previous shrooms trip, including all the visuals and the same mindset. This was incredible to me, because it showed how powerful this trip truly was; it was like the hash was trying to demonstrate to me how mighty it was, that it could do everything shrooms could do, as an afterthought, just because it could.
After a while the trip had diminished to the point where I felt I could handle dealing with others. I went downstairs to tell everyone about what had just happened. But as I was explaining, I once again felt like I would faint and hurried back to my bed. I laid there for about an hour or so, until I fell asleep. I awoke the next morning feeling normal, but extremely shook up. It had almost been pleasant at times, but overall it was one of the most traumatizing experiences I have ever gone through.
I thought this might have been a fluke, so I tried a much smaller dose of hash about a month later. It was the same kind of trip, but every aspect was greatly diminished, so it was actually really fun. However, I smoked some plain marijuana a few days after that, and started to trip. It was again a much less intense trip, but it was very unexpected.
Every time I've smoked a high dose of marijuana since that day, I've started to trip. I've sworn off hash forever, because apparently my brain has been permanently altered in some way. Marijuana never had that effect on me before. Alcohol and shrooms, however, have the same effects as ever.
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