DOSE:

9 in

oral

Cacti - T. pachanoi

(liquid)

BODY WEIGHT:

150 lb

'You can't always get what you want.
No you can't always get what you want.
You can't always get what you want.
But if you try sometimes,
you just might find,
you get what you need!'
- Mick Jagger

The words of that famous Rolling Stones tune were rolling through my head yesterday as I lay on the beach weeping in agonizing spiritual doubt. The mescaline had given me an unstoppaple craving for contact with something certain... God, Truth, something--someone--to sit with me and tell me it was going to be allright. I cried a bit, prayed a bit, and struggled on through the definite +3 experience.

What was happening to me? From what I'd gathered from trip reports and two prior San Pedro experiences, mescaine was a fun compound, significally lagging behind the all holy mushroom in the spirituality department, but tactally delightful, sensual, and upbeat. Lots of people have likened it to rolling. So as I stood in my kitchen chopping, slicing, dicing, and grinding the green stuff, I looked forward to an easy day of sun, sand, and, maybe, sex with my girlfriend and tripping partner.

We headed north up the Pacific Coast Highway to a beautiful beach--so beautiful it looks ridiculous, really, like a cheap christian tramp's image of heaven, or at least somewhere she'd like to have her wedding. But astoundingly beautiful, nonetheless, if not a bit cheesy. We sat in this stunning oasis, steadied our tastebuds, and let the onslaught begin.

We drank, and waited.

After a period of queasy weirdness, we headed south along the shoreline to do some exploring. This must have been about 3 hours after ingestion, because the material really started to hit. I gradually became aware of a ball of sadness resting somewhere in my emotional core. Something I had been habitually denying, ignoring, distracting myself from its shadowy presence through reading, skateboarding, etc. But today the Mescaline made this sadness undeniable, agonizingly unavoidable.

Meanwhile, my girlfriend is typically having a wonderful time, playful and light, when she turns her head to the left and sees the ghastly remains of a partially consumed dead seal. She grabbed me and screamed, releasing a bolt of pure revulsion. Mescaline makes one ultra-sensitive--both physically and emotionally--and the image of this seal burned its way past all her defenses into her hyperactive amygdala.

With no idea that my girlfriend's world had transformed into 'death-land' as she called it, complete with vultures circling and pervasive decay, I told her I needed some time alone to deal with my sadness, and walked away. This is where I made a simple and genuine prayer to God for some contact. Something along the lines of 'Look, it doesn't have to be right now, it doesn't have to be too much, just please remind me that you're there like you used to.' My trip escalated without resolution.

A bit later, still peaking, I lay on my back, my girlfriend's face to the left, and then sun's in the right. Right then, I think I may have gotten a hint of the perfect benevolence and brilliance of this God-entity I'd been asking after. It faded away pretty quickly, but my trip turned around right then.

We spent the lengthy come-down in the usual post-psychedelic discussion, characterized by a dynamic and compelling net of topics which, under analysis, reveal that they both are and aren't--yes, and no--the Coinscidencia Oppositorum that seems to pop up so in psychedelic-influenced reasoning.

While I didn't get the three hour orgasmic sense-fest, the vanilla hallucinations, or, incidentally, the sex that characterized my last Mescaline experience, I did ultimately enjoy this difficult, sad, and sometimes scary trip much more. I was expecting a drug, but I got a medicine. Like they say, 'White man medicine make you feel good first, bad later. Indian medicine make you feel bad first, good later.' On the comedown, I hadn't figured out the source of my sadness, I hadn't gotten the definitive contact with God (yet) but I nevertheless felt refreshed, like stepping out of a warm spiritual shower on a cold, dark night of the soul. Just sitting there with the sadness presence, feeling it, really helped.

And then, a cosmic wink.

My car was in the shop, and I had borrowed my sister's new VW Bug. It's devastatingly girly, complete with swaying palm trees on the license-plate and a pink My Little Pony in the dash. As I drove this shameful thing, my girlfriend and I compared it to the old Beetle. We both discovered a strong nostalgia for the old one, which is increasingly rare. I had recently noticed the absense of a Beetle that had been parked on my street as long as I could remember. I wanted to see another one--badly.

And so the cosmic giggle becomes your friend.

We turned left onto my street, and I prepared to put the ugly new bug back in its parking place, and something amazing happened. There was a classic old VW Beetle, white and beautiful, one which I had never seen, sitting there in my sister's parking spot! I got out and inspected it--it wasn't a hallucination--it was truly a gift from God.

I feel spiritually alive today, and all I had to do was take Mescaline and ask.

Exp Year: 2005	ExpID: 45325
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Dec 18, 2008	Views: 8,182
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Cacti - T. pachanoi (64) : General (1), Relationships (44), Mystical Experiences (9), Small Group (2-9) (17)