Citation: David. "A Rush of the Mystical: An Experience with MDMA, marijuana (exp21052)". Erowid.org. Nov 18, 2005. erowid.org/exp/21052
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There is no fully coherent way to describe what has been happening to me these last few days. I suppose it started when I took pure MDMA (the active ingredient in ecstasy) for the first time. It is said that the first experience of this is without parallel, and cannot ever truly be repeated. This may be so, yet the effects are still resonating in me, through me, two days later.
Monday night I was online and my friend X (to protect his anonymity) IM'ed me and invited me to hang out with him, saying he could get MDMA. I had been very curious to try this, yet I had never gotten the opportunity, so I seized at this one. I promptly met him, and after hanging out at his place with our friend Y for a bit, we went to the house of his source, his friend Z. The three of us arrived there, talked with Z and his friends a bit, and started smoking some weed while waiting for Z's friend to get the MDMA. The weed was fun, as always, but there was no longer anything truly new about it. For me it consists in a pleasant haziness which relaxes the inhibitions, especially those of speech, and meanwhile takes my thoughts in all sorts of different directions, which can only be expressed by my babbling. But on weed I still feel essentially like my everyday self. I have control over things. Time moves at more or less the same speed, or if it feels differently, I am aware that the difference is only in my mind. Not so with MDMA.
X, Y (it was his first time as well), and I took our MDMA capsules (estimated at 80-100 mg) as soon as they arrived. The effects would not manifest for about 45 minutes, I was told, so the interval was spent in anxious anticipation. I cannot pinpoint the moment I felt the change; I can only say that after some time I noticed I had been in a different state for...some time. A discontinuity was created between my past and my present, yet not in a traumatic way. Rather I felt liberated from the past, free to enjoy the present moment to its fullest. I recall that I was talking a great deal, in a nonstop stream of mumbling, the content of which was occasionally made clear to others if I happened to raise my voice to audible volume for a bit. What I was saying must have been none other than the contents of my unconscious (or some analagous entity, perhaps even a divine one). It all seemed terribly, profoundly important, yet I also enjoyed speaking for its own sake. I had so much to get out, so many things utterly electrically charged with meaning. X later remarked, while I was still in my monologue, that I must have lifelong issues about being ignored. He meant this in the most sincere, compassionate way. (I more recently realized that until now, I not only felt ignored by others, but by myself. Only now am I really listening to my thoughts and working them out.)
He really wanted to understand me, and I desperately wanted to understand him, and everyone and everything else too, so we embarked on a journey of conversation. I found out more about his true nature, his wisdom, his sensitivity to beauty, his recognition of the good in everyone. X, for the moment, was God. We talked with great reverence about the perfection of the female form, the genius of historians and philosophers, and other such noble things, without a trace of irony. I will have to talk with him and Y soon about all the other things I was saying, both to them and to myself, for I cannot remember it all, so overwhelming was the brilliance of the experience.
Even the last couple days I've been having thoughts which I fear may never be communicated clearly, and whose meaning may dissolve if I were ever to forget them. I feel the power of the world, and the power of my language to describe it, surging through me, and yet I also feel there are some things I yearn to express, yet I'm unable to. Only now do I truly see what philosophy means, what religion means, what anything can mean, if one is sufficiently curious and aware. My life feels changed forever, and if I am to ever slip out of this state back into everyday forgetfulness, let my words here be a reminder of the possibility of true perfection and joy.
I am seeing how multi-leveled reality is, how every man is a reality unto himself, and yet how the self is an illusion, and how reality is one. Every distinction and conflict is melting into its opposite, much like the way things work in Taoist conception. I am at once absorbing the whole world and dissolving into it. This would be a most welcome time to die, yet I don't at all mind continuing on. I feel immortal either way, and I must confess, at this moment I am on the verge of tears. Tears of joy and of sadness at once, for ultimately the two are one and the same.
I am still in the afterglow of the experience. I long ago regained control of my urgent need to talk, but the restraint is causing a seething, joyous profusion of thoughts inside me, and this writing is its closest mirror. But my thought has ceased to be linear, unlike this writing. I want to say so many things at once, yet this keyboard only allows me to say one thing at a time. All my desires are merging into one larger desire for the way things are, even if that includes change. Everything is okay to me, nothing will truly get on my nerves anymore. Moods will be mere ripples on the surface of the ocean of awareness.
I must be sounding right now like some quasi-mystical airhead, babbling on and on in poetry, my head forever lost in the clouds. Yet it is not so. This new way of seeing, I hope, will enrich my ordinary existence as well, or at the very least, my LiveJournal entries. My world is unraveling into poetry, the distinctions between language and feelings and things is not so very clear anymore. I will need to rethink my views on just about everything. I hope the reader may be led to do the same. Thank you for listening.
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