Citation: FwapNimmer. "Choosing Not to Nullify My Existence: An Experience with Morning Glory Seeds (exp2056)". Erowid.org. Jun 23, 2000. erowid.org/exp/2056
A slight uncertainty arises as to where to start my explanation of this experience, because it eventually seemed to have found root in events months before it actually took place. Nonetheless, I will do my best to accurately describe the facts in rough chronological order, and to denote any comments that I am adding as hindsight, as opposed to events/thoughts of the time.
I expect that I'll still be remembering things that I left out for a few weeks after I finish this file, but I hope it's relatively thorough. This may read a little choppily, because as I remember new things, I have to pick where to place an account of them, but do your best - I'm posting this so that the alt.drugs.veterans can anylize this experience to death. It was unbelievably powerful, and I'd like to hear as much as I can about it. I came out of it with a wonderful outlook on life, partly because of the realizations I had about my life and the problems with it, partly because I felt that I had found the answers to most of those problems, and partly because I was still alive at the end of it all.
My recreational legal drug use had never produced what I would refer to as a 'trip', but instead, a wide array of buzzes, nothings, highs, stones and such. Mostly sensual experiences, with a dash of thought alteration, basically. I longed to experience the altered perception and psychadelia documented in so many books, posts, and files I had collected. I had always prided myself in my habit of thoroughly researching a substance to the point at which I could surprise almost anyone I met with a fact about it before I would even consider ingesting it. I've always had very clear boundaries between substances: those I do/would use if given the chance, those I avoid at all costs, and those on which I have yet to gain enough information.
I had put D-lysergic acid amide on my list of substances on which I had sufficient information to warrant experimentation, and apparently this was either a premature assumption, or I made a few errors. Regardless, I ingested 7.2 grams of Heavenly Blue Morning Glory seeds, which should be approximately 280 seeds. This was done over the course of about 45 minutes, and I had another 1.8 grams to round it off to 9 handy when the phone rang. The phone conversation was more important to me than the last 70 seeds, so I talked. About an hour later, at 9:45, I was tripping.
I couldn't decide whether to lie down on my bed or sit up on its edge, and my constant motion was a bit of a problem to the phone conversation, because the phone in my bedroom rattles when moved. To make things worse, I couldn't stop trying to describe the breathing of the walls and the multicolored mirrored spheres I saw spinning out to no end when I closed my eyes. It was thoroughly breathtaking, and I was almost giddy by the time we decided to hang up, about 3 minutes later. This left me free to watch the happenings around me. The breathing walls were neat, and somewhat of a sign to me that I had done it - this was to be a fun ride. But more profound were the mirror balls. Closing my eyes produced a vision as if I were literally surrounded by floating silver spheres which were slowly rotating around each other, and reflecting far-off shapes of red, yellow, and green. I could have watched them all night, but I had other plans.
I was still coherent enough to brush my teeth and wash my face, and I did so. I went out into the living room to get my CD player, and carefully returned to my room. My CD player hadn't been working consistently, but my other choice was to carry my stereo down the hallway, and I didn't trust my vision or coordination well enough for that. I expect that it still wasn't working, but I was too far gone to care. Anyhow, I plugged in the player, took off my shirt, carefully put the little Morning Glory bags into a drawer, and searched for Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. It took me a long time to focus on the CDs well enough to pick it out, but eventually located it. I was unbelievably anxious to lie in my bed, close my eyes, and listen to my music, and I remember smiling like an idiot through the entire preparation process. When I had finished, I put out the lights, applied my headphones, slipped into bed, and pressed 'Play'.
If only I had videotaped myself. I spent the following 42 minutes 57 seconds listening to one of my favorite albums as if I had never heard music before, and freely associating every concept that came into my mind with every other that I had pondered that evening. My thoughts were racing, and I seemed to be pointing to them with various body parts as they passed me. I'm not sure how to best convey this concept, but as I connected my thoughts, I attempted to whisper them to myself, and they were speeding by at such a rate that the only things I spoke were along the lines of 'O.k.- and then- but that means- so that- but- ha!- and- ha!' and I would preceed to emit a whispered gasp of understanding, as if connecting these thoughts had explained a major portion of my life. Occasionally, I would decide that it would be best if I calmed down and slept, but that could only last for a few seconds, for as I would begin to ponder the act of calming down to sleep, I would whirl into another episode of free association.
Each of the connecting phrases I muttered (and then, but that means, so that...) was accompanied by a physical movement. My movements had become very smooth, things such as running my fingertips down my face, wrapping my arms slowly around myself, bringing my knees up to a rough fetal position and then back... All very fluid, smooth motions. But, when my thoughts were jumping, each jump seemed to be accompanied by a single muscle moving, and each of my limbs was accomplishing its current goal in motion by waiting for one of its muscles to get its turn to move. At the time, I was only aware of a singular sensation of motion that was felt first in a leg, then an arm, then a foot, and such, but when I gasped with understanding at the end of my line of thought, I would find my arms twisted into unnatural positions around my body and each other. I occasionally took breaks for breath (I was gasping out all these thoughts to myself, and my breathing was abnormal enough as it was without trying to keep quiet) or to feel my face, shake my hair (it felt different every time I did that, but it usually felt like only a comparatively few thin flowing strands, and it was electrifying to feel it rub against my back) and play with other sensual abnormalities of the trip. I was not tired in the least, and this continued until the last track on the CD.
Apparently, I picked a bad time to try to settle down and sleep, because at the moment I stopped thinking wildly, 'Eclipse' began to play. I had already been making seemingly astouding discoveries about everything I knew, and anyone who knows the lyrics to Eclipse is aware of the connection therein. Basically, I was now told that Everything I touch, see, taste, feel, love, hate, distrust, save, give, deal, buy, beg, borrow, or steal, All I create, destroy, do, say, eat, everyone I meet, all that I slight, everyone I fight, all that is now, all that is gone, all that's to come, and everything under the sun is in tune - but the sun is eclipsed by the moon. Awaiting that ending, each line sobered me as I became very... wary. Not frightened, but aware of the depth of the experience, I guess. I'm not certain how to describe it, but I was laying there astonished at something, and when the song ended, I very slowly and almost absentmindedly removed my headphones. My mind was, in effect, blown.
From this point, my chronological order is likely to be less than accurate. I honestly cannot recall what happened next, but I vaguely remember the same sort of racing thought I had just expereinced, but more slowly. The topics seemed to be drawing to a close, and not towards an end I wanted to reach. I could do nothing to stop it, so I was forced to lie there and watch my mind connect thoughts that I was just as willing to forget. The visuals at this point were very vivid, but I regret that I cannot specifically explain any of them. They were basically graphical representations of the thoughts I was having. Finally, my thoughts had all been connected to form only a few basic concepts which I preceeded to intertwine to form one. Suddenly, everything was before me.
I felt as if I was faced with a choice. I could see a swirling representation of everything that exists, interacting with everything else that exists to form an everything that was itself as well as its parts. I understood what this collection of things I saw in front of me represented - it was an omniscience that COULD stem from the realizations I was having that night. I had been lucky enough to be given the decision, apparently, but it was not an easy one. I could either leap forward into the all-knowing mass of everything before me, or make my way back to my home, and to this reality. I felt as if understanding all there was to know would be a method of nullifying my existence, because there would be nothing towards which to climb, but also that returning to my reality was a 'death' of some sort. I'm not certain what it was that I feared, but I felt certain that I was risking death by returning. (Perhaps I was seeing the omniscience as a form of immortality - I do seem to remember a sense that it would be a connection with an all-powerful consciousness)... I chose to return, although I do not recall actively making the decision (I'm tempted to think that the drug was simply wearing off). I do have a vague memory of visualizing all the thoughts I had intertwined rapidly untangling, as I recursively regressed to the point at which I began - my mind had many many different concepts to consider, and they were not all connected. It was quite a bit of work to return, but eventually, I opened my eyes, and saw my room.
Well, it was SORT of my room. Almost everything was out of place, with the exception of the clock. The clock insisted on misbehaving, and I often found that two checks of the clock that seemed to be in rapid succession produced readings of 1:30 and then 1:55, for instance. My first goal was to slow the clock down, or speed it up, whichever it happened to need, until it was correct, so I could form some sort of an anchor to something roughly tangible. Finally, when I was convinced that I was relatively back to reality, I was brave enough to roll over and look at the floor.
There was my CD player, next to my headset, and the cord strewn over the general vicinity. I reached for the cord, and touched nothing but carpet. I looked again, and realized that I hadn't reached for the cord, but for part of the sculpture of the carpet. Suddenly, the floor was different - I was better oriented, I could see where the cord actually was. I pieced my room back together this was, noting when my senses were and weren't correct, being extremely proud over having changed something physically and having it remain changed when I returned to it. The next step was my bed covers. The turning and twisting I was doing over the course of my thoughts had twisted up my sheets rather nicely, so I decided to untwist them. My sheets are covered with irregular stripes, and in my current state, these were very misleading. I untwisted completely four times before it was actually physically completely untwisted. When I felt the bottom sheet form a consistantly flat covering over me, I was even better oriented. It was now, I decided, well past time to get up, use the bathroom, and get a drink.
I turned to my door. I reached out to grab its edge, but my hand seemed to roll around a fourth side before I could see where the actual three I was concerned with were. I pulled, and was startled by a loud knocking sound. I looked around, and noticed my hairbrush near the door's path. As a reality check, I closed the door, mover the brush, and re-opened the door. It did not knock. I was proud. I closed the door, stood up, and replaced my clothing on my body. Feeling the sensations of fabric running along my skin replaced much of my anchor in reality, also. I quietly opened the door again, and walked down the hallway. I walked into the bathroom, and my perspectives in there helped set me straight, because the bathroom was one of the last rooms I visited before the LSA took. The shower curtain, the sink, the tile, my sister's little jar of sea monkeys in the corner... They all seemed right, and I knew I was closer. The only thing that startled me was the cloth above me and to my left. I stared at the designs, though, and realized that my mother had hung wet clothing over the curtain rod to dry, and this reminded me that time had gone on even after I'd closed my bedroom door the evening before. Things looked promising, but I was still in my own little altered state, not actively noticing the things around me. I left the bathroom and went further down the hallway to the kitchen.
Without filling in any details of the parts of the kitchen itself, relevant to this action or not, I did nothing but the following: I got a glassful of juice. It wasn't until I took a large drink that I realized everything around me - and it was exactly as it should have been. The juice, however, was not from the same fruit as that which I had been drinking with my seeds, and the new taste surprised me - waking me to my surroundings. I was quite impressed that this had such an effect, and I went around touching things.. The dog's leash, the microwave, the table. I read a bit of the newspaper. I had to get back to bed, I decided.
My room was still foreign, however, and I had some reality to set back into place. I had made quite a few things in my room do what they should, but I still could not form one clear picture of my surroundings. I spend the time to come playing with objects, re-learning their tendencies, and interaction with other objects. For instance, one of the more interesting was when I saw my juggling bags on the floor. I picked one up, tossed it and caught it, and finally decided to toss it off the edge of the bed. It landed on the ground with a thud, and I became more aware of gravity, and where the floor was. I played with my clock radio, making it pop with noise by turning on the radio with no volume. I turned the light on and off a few times. I opened my door and did the same, feeling it necessary that I was vulnerable to being 'caught' while doing this. (I would suggest that since I quite often have a very real sense of where my family is, and whether or not they can discover me in any act they would not approve of, I was attempting to create a little mild paranoia to which I could relate).
Throughout this entire ordeal, there were a few things that recurred. For isntance, When the room was particularly silent, I could hear my watch on the bedside table. Its band has been broken for ages, and thus it's well buried by other bedside table-type items, and I wasn't used to hearing it. In order to concentrate on it, I would mutter 'ticktickticktickticktickticktick'. I quite often looked myself over, to see how familiar I looked, and I occasionally would find it necessary to sepecifically check the familiarity of my genitals (with and without the door open). One of the strangest actions was tickling my gag relfex. It wasn't as responsive as it usually would be, and I think that the closer it came to responding as I was accustomed, the closer I felt to reality. Occasionally, I would feel something unfamiliar, like a 1mm thick disk, I think, and reach for it, but it would always fall farther down my throat, and I felt as if I were curling my finger into my throat, through my tounge, and back around in a full spiral. I finally stopped this habit by staring into my throat via my mirror while doing this, and at first my throat appeared as a terrifying cavern of death, but it gradually became the back of my mouth as I remembered it. Rubbing my hand over my face to confirm that it was the face I remembered would (naturally) occasionally cause my hand to brush over my lips, and the feeling reminded me of a specific intimate encounter of the past. Also, I noticed that my inner lip produced a much more smooth sensation across my hand than I would expect from saliva. Whatever I pictured myself doing, I would proceed to do, because I knew that confirming the images in my mind was the only way to convince myself that I was perceiving things as they were.
I finally turned away from the room, and towards myself. I looked in the little mirror on my headboard, and I did not recognize my physical self as it currently is. I reminded myself of the 7th grade me, except my hair was as it currently is. The most profound differences were my facial features, and the presence of a large amount of acne that wasn't there when I went to sleep. I tenatively rubbed one of the pimples I saw, and found nothing but flat skin. Good. I felt my entire forehead and face for bumps, and found my complexion was much clearer than the mirror suggested. I looked back, and I was a much closer to normal. I looked back at my floor, to re-confirm the stability of reality, and noticed my CD player. I pressed play, and when I heard sound, I picked up the headphones. I didn't wear them, but I moved them around, and oriented myself to the sound. It helped tremendously, as did proving that I could change things by playing with the skip/search buttons. Finally, I stopped, and removed the CD. I looked at it, had some profound thoughts about creative energy in the mind, glanced at my guitar, and then back at the CD. I turned it around, to see my face in the back, and what I found was a small, frightened, unfamiliar face with meek features. Suddenly, the face rapidly transformed into dozens and dozens of other unfamiliar faces, until I looked away, and placed the CD in its jewel box. I looked in my mirror, and I saw my face. Comfort. But suddenly, the right half of the mouth in the mirror twisted into the most angry snarl I'd ever seen on my face, and then quickly calmed to normal. The left half followed suit, but this was more feirce. Finally, I physically curled my face into an ugly, angry snarl, and silently roared, feeling a large amount of negative energy being dispersed in that act. I could tell that this was nearly over.
Suddenly, however, I began feeling that, even though I'd regained most of my reality, that I might have caused some sort of permanent psychosis. I wondered if it would be too late to save me, or if there was still time, or perhaps if there would only be time if I sought help immediately. I was faced with the issue of coming to my parents about the night's experiement. I suddenly felt that I had no choice but to tell them, but there was still enough sense in me not to. I knew that this would HAVE to wear off, but I also wasn't certain what would be left behind. I opened my door again, and sat down on the carpet before the tile of the hallway. I breathed. It was a very liquid, unfamiliar breath. I suddenly decided to breathe very rapidly. And the quiet sound of my hyperventalation produced a spinning sound in my head as if the noise were actually produces by a large spinning wheel that made little gasping noises periodically. The sensation reminded me of the sensation I had earlier on in the trip of many small things meshing together to form a large whole. My breathing returned to normal, and I began to cry. I hadn't cried in a long time (I'd needed to, I think...) and it was a very heartfelt cry. I was careful not to bawl and wake people up, because sitting in my door put me within a meter of my parent's door. It was a gasping, teary cry. I rubbed my eyes, and the moistness reminded me specifically of the sensation I had earlier rubbing my had inside my lip. I had some philosophical realization about the connection between my intimate activites, drug activities, and the sorrow/pain I was crying for. After 5 minutes, I calmed down.
I got up, took one more trip to the bathroom, and while there, my ears were bombarded with sounds. I recognized my parents' TV, which I had turned off as soon as I was coherent enough to do so. My father's alarm clock, which wouldn't be going off this early, was buzzing in my head. My families voices were audible in the far distance, and I realized that I'd been hearing them throughout the past hour or two. I was a bit afraid that I wasn't perceiving anything correctly, and they were in fact right over me trying to wake me, or something of the sort. Finally, though, I left the bathroom, checked their room, and they were still asleep, the television off, the alarm silent. I smiled. Things were right, things were good. I walked back to my room. Looking it over, I realized that it was back in order, I checked the clock - I had a couple hours of sleep ahead of me. I stared at my bed.
I slid into my bed, and as I did, I could see, hear, and feel the remaining uncertainties and inconsistancies of my surroundings disappearing as the sheets sliding down my arms produced the most familiar feelings I'd felt all night. I slept.
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