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Beyond Consciousness
Mescaline , Alcohol (hard), Cannabis
by OttawaGoa
Citation:   OttawaGoa. "Beyond Consciousness: An Experience with Mescaline , Alcohol (hard), Cannabis (exp31335)". Feb 28, 2004.

T+ 0:00
4 shots oral Alcohol - Hard (liquid)
  T+ 2:00 1000 mg oral Mescaline (capsule)
  T+ 0:59 500 mg oral Mescaline (capsule)
  T+ 0:59   smoked Cannabis  


This is the story of my 1500 mg mescaline trip, described in the only way i could possible think of describing it. Although they might seem a bit ficticious because the dose is higher than what I've read about, I've taken 500mg, 750mg, and now 1500mg.

I started feeling the mescaline's effects within 20 minutes. Mescaline was taken orally for the first 2 pills, unknown for the 3rd pill as I was to fucked up to even realize I had eaten a third one.

I had been waiting for this pill. Its clear and sticky outer shell begs at me to be eaten. The fine white sparkles dance throughout as I shake it up and down. Deliriously happy, I jump excitedly in preparation of ingesting this magical pill. Anxiousness had completely taken over my body as I had waited these past 2 hours for this magnificent marvel of psychedelic substances known as mescaline. The little red baggy that contained this precious cargo had long disappeared as I held the pill with complete content. Sixty dollars had gone into tonight’s activities. Zac, Justin and myself had smoked earlier to calm our nerves as we had drank Jamaican Rum while playing crazy 8’s to pass the time.

Stoned, a little drunk, and hyped up beyond control I swallow the first pill with Zac as Justin opts for a smaller amount than 500 mg. Bad vibes crawl down my spine but my consciousness ignores it. 500 mg is passé, I’ve done it twice before with remarkable results. Another pill is called up to the guillotine as Zac and I say goodbye to the world. Four pills have disappeared. One pill remains but where? Ignore that pill 1000 mg is foreign territory, a journey through the unknown. Precious time winds down as our minds begin to wander.

It’s cold. I’m outside, but why? Ah another joint, pass it along I’m not feeling to well.
“Are you going to puke?” Justin remarks
Nonsense, I am in complete control of my bodily functions.
”You want the garbage can?” Zac remarks as he pushes it near my face
Spontaneous eruption, an unknown factor in taking so much mescaline. The mind agrees with whatever is said, by whomever.

Unrecognizable pain, it’s annoying but sporadic. I hear the voices of Justin and Zac they aren’t to pleased by the display of food I’ve gorged myself with today.

There is something to be said about mescaline. When taking it, make sure you can handle the violent reaction the mind gives your stomach, if not, aim for the closest thing to a bucket. I had chosen the garbage can, but the paradox remains. Would I have puked if it were not for Justin and Zac putting the thought of puking into my mind? Ignore this vicious circle. The joint is finished.

A hurricane in the laundry room erupts as I step inside. My cerebellum escapes as I try vanquishing the forces of nature. Stumbling, I make my way to the upstairs toilet. Consciousness has ceased to continue, the electrical impulses in my brain fire widely as I close my eyes with my arms protecting my head from getting a dunk in the toilet. Time to go downstairs, my mind fights against this sensation in an uphill and losing battle. Making it to the downstairs washroom, I realize I have more food that I do not need in my stomach.

Is the door open? I must close it. A foreign object reaches for the counter, allowing myself to stand up and fight this vicious wind. All consciousness and meaning has escaped, my attention span is non-existent as I unknowingly get up to close the door. The face in the mirror, a twisted empty shell of a head pierces my gaze. Its eyes have no soul. There is a window through him. I can see it but cannot reach it for I am he. No speech, no thought, no world. I am alone, but not on earth. For I am not in my vessel, I am in a land of miraculous despair. I lack too much to be aware, as I have become an animal. Somehow the door closes as I realize my reason for being in the washroom. I have the notion of needing to pee. Luckily the door is locked and I am able to sit on the toilet. What is this push thing I need to do? I’ve done it for so long but lack the memory of it.

A mental wall erupts right at the moment I’m about to release my bodily fluid. I flush the toilet for no reason and sit back down by the toilet.
Closing my eyes a window appears, it leads nowhere but I stare at it for an eternity. I’m beyond the explainable as I waste an eternity alone. A violent eruption of senses alerts me to the presence of Zac.

“Are you ok man?” Zac asks

“I… think… washroom… tried to pee... forgot...” I breathe in heavily as I try to master the ability of speech.

“Dude get a hold of yourself. Fight the mescaline.” He angrily says

“To… to much… beyond… control…no… thought” confusion soaks my body like a wet blanket.

“Come out of the fucking bathroom already, Justin is passing out he’s tired as hell” he says as he shuts the door.

Finally the electronic pulses start to regulate back to normality. Still confused, I’m able to walk against the terrible wind and open the door. Looking at Justin and Zac for an unknown reason I turn around and close the door.

The mescaline has control. It doesn’t want me near people it wants me all to myself. Well then, dance with the devil and come out on top? Un-likely but I’ll give it a try. The beauty about mescaline is that it has zero, zilch, nadda, no chance of killing you. Of course you might never be the same mentally but you can still function if only for a short while.

Time melts as I pass the space-time continuum, my consciousness dissipates in horror as knowledge, experience, and understanding merge as one and fulfill my being. I am all knowing at this moment in my eternity but my mind cannot ascertain the mathematical equations. The immediate expulsion of the equation of my being snaps my consciousness back into gear as I open my eyes to see the toilet bowl. My consciousness is back to normal, I’m able to stumble and slowly fight my way out of the washroom.

Where the hell is all this wind coming from? Opening the door I’m greeted by the strange look of Zac. Slowly making my way to the couch that Justin abandoned I look over at Zac, as he is puzzled to see my strange form of movement. Noticing I can’t walk in a straight line, I’m reminded of Johnny Depp, walking all sluggish and eccentric due to ether in “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”.

“What the fuck, I’m not on fucking ether.” I bark as I lay myself oddly on the long and comfortable couch.

“That was one hell of a trip...” I remark

“Yea man you were in the fucking washroom for so long, you ok?” Zac replies

“Yea I’m good now, still fucked out of my mind but good.” I realize that through all that large amount of time spent in the washroom I had not once taken a piss.

Back through the clawing wind I make my way to the washroom. Content in the ability to yet again pee, I eagerly flush the toilet and make my way back to the couch. So much wind in a bungalow it is unbelievable.

I ponder the disappearance of Justin, and the musical symphony that is playing psychedelic trance. Peering into Justin’s room I see him asleep, crouched in a ball as the music blares violently and extremely loudly from his speakers. Throughout my conversation with Zac I discover that I took the third pill, as it had went missing a while ago. 1500 mg explains my journey better than any other words in the English language. Threshold aside, the trip was an educational mind fuck. Time, mind, body and soul had all disappeared and reappeared throughout my drug ride. It’s 2 am and I am wide awake, the mescaline now feeling like a 250 mg buzz, I enjoy the music and for an unknown reason I slowly turn it down overtime as Zac and I discuss matters that which I cannot recall.

Much needed sleep fills my schedule as I dream the unknown. My body heaves a great sigh as the cerebellum finally rests at norm. I am normal again for only a few hours as I am awakened to Justin smoking a joint in the washroom at 11 am. I notice that he realizes the large accumulation of wind that has filled his basement. Although he only took around 450 mg, he is still on his personal mescaline journey. As breakfast passes and time winds down to its end, we discuss the prior nights ride and slowly bring ourselves back to planet earth.

Sorry it was in story format, but I feel that it portrays my reaction and why my outcome had been so harsh.

Exp Year: 2004ExpID: 31335
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: Not Given 
Published: Feb 28, 2004Views: 38,267
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Mescaline (36) : General (1), Small Group (2-9) (17)

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