H.B. Woodrose & Cannabis
Citation: Nicholas D.. "The Spectral Plane of Pain and Pleasure: An Experience with H.B. Woodrose & Cannabis (exp46785)". Erowid.org. Mar 13, 2007. erowid.org/exp/46785
My best friend, the initiator in my involvement in the journeys of psychedelia with my first breath of cannabis, traveled two hours just to surprise me with a bag of fifteen Hawaiian Baby Woodrose seeds of medium-quality. At first I was skeptical, of course, and chose to experiment with the salvia divinorum first. It was low grade, and I experienced nothing from it. The seeds were ground into a powder with a mortar and pestle, and I drank it with the salvia tea/coffee mixture I had made. The salvia did not effect the experience.
The experience was at first as if I were rising and rising, the chakra points flowing upward from the base of my spine and filling my temporal lobe with a euphorant rise that could be described as an inflation of my head with nitrogen and letting it float just above my body.
'Man, I'm fuckin' feelin' it,' I whispered. My roommate Shannon had taken ten, and so did Jeff's girlfriend. None of them got anywhere with it, considering they had a smaller dose and had recently eaten. I was on an empty stomach, and was experienced in meditation so was able to channel it in a more propagating manner. The threshold was common, similar to psilocybin. The hallucinations were the results of a hefty bowl of decent cannabis that had set the experience in full motion.
Threshold (occuring in twenty minutes after ingestion): chakra points producing massive endorphin flooding, and concentration on the heart or the head yielded a floating, almost overly intense high.
I told Jeff I was feeling it, most assuredly, and that it was fucking awesome. I wanted to write down some of the thought-processes, but they were slightly altered and confused and disappeared back into the subconscious to come back later in a different form.
The hallucinations were not as profound at first. I've smoked high doses of marijuana and seen amazing spiral activity in my retinal fields, this was similar to the rise of LSA. I began to feel the nausea, but dismissed it as the salvia. If I done research before hand, I probably would have had a better experience.
The purge. Wonderful and terrifying, it is as symbolic as it is uncomfortable. The vomiting was over, in the bathroom, the nausea like a vise around my stomach that clenched and released and made me swoon in vertigo. The trip was definitely becoming intense, and I propped myself against the wall of my two-bedroom apartment and was blessed with consolation from both Jeff and his girlfriend. My roommate was not feeling anything, and she left. After the experience began to intensify, I was actually worried about her suddenly 'coming up' and not knowing how to handle it. I vomited again outside, and sat down on the couch in a vegitative stance.
My mind, however, was far from vegitative. As with any intense experience, every little nuance of reality that is most often times taken for granted becomes a pounding cessation that yields either wonderous pleasure, or a sense of doom and terror. I honestly, at the time, felt I was going to die. I kept telling Jeff I wish I hadn't taken all fifteen, but just ten. The marijuana did not help at all, but I love the marijuana high and smoked some more anyway. The visuals became more crystal, and my head still felt as if it were holding on by bare tendons before releasing and floating off into space.
I must have entered my mind and lost touch with reality an hour later, because time was lost in the oblivion of space, which I discovered was only an illusion. The consordium of reality was but a vague incantation amidst a myriad of spiraling, gyrating colors not as intense as a psyilocybin, or DMT, but nonetheless captivating.
Catatonia, holding a cigarette that has long since burned out. I come to, realized that I was in an alternate dimension of reality, in which I was visiting a higher plane of evolution. A jump FORWARD through evolution to where time and space yielded a pocket, so to speak, specifically designed to house the three of us in the experience. Since I was the only one tripping, I really wasn't aware that Jeff and and his girlfriend were talking to me worriedly.
'Dude, he's knows where he is!' Callie argued with Jeff, 'Look, he's awake, he's moving around, he's alright' She then proceeded to ask me if I was alright.
'Yeah,' I responded as if totally sober and everything was perfect. 'I know exactly where I am.' I chuckled after that. Of course, in the sober reality they thought I was coming down from my trip and realized where I was. In all actuality, however, I was in another dimension, and they were as well, and we all were amazed that we were smart enough to realize where we were and not freak out about it. It was interesting, and after awhile the intensity of the alternate reality become unbearable, and I drifted out of it directly into my mind.
This is the peak of the experience. This is what is described in Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas as, 'the two-and a half hours or so of catatonic despair.' He was describing an acid dose, but LSA is similiar to acid. The dose I took could be compared to a moderate acid dose, and I very-well achieved the same plane of consciousness.
I was literally strung out in an infinite stretch of pain, clutching myself and floating through the abyss. The pain was similar to that of a complete body charlie-horse, where the muscles and the nerves were told by my brain to go into duress. Now I don't think any damage was being done, but at the time of the experience I was concentrating on moving into the pleasant field of space. I achieved, and a negative thought or fear invaded the perfection and sent my spiraling back into the pain. It was a back and forth sequence in my mind, and my thoughts were trying so hard to attain the true meaning of everything important, throwing aside everything worldly because it no longer mattered.
When I came to, I realized I was in my room. It was dark, everyone was asleep. The walls were still moving, but the hallucinations were only minor. My thoughts were still zig-zagging in terror, believing the room was Hell, and I had died, and I would spend eternity locked in my mind to balance out pain and pleasure and control chaos. For a moment I was happy, because it would mean I could create my own realities. I could design life and become a God of sorts.
I was crying when I realized what had happened, and I was crying with joy with I opened the door and saw the night-world was still there, and life was still happening. The beauty was more phantasmagoric than any psychedelic experienced, and I realized that that was the meaning behind the journey. To realize that you cannot become god, because the intricacies are so infinitely expanding that it resembles Chaos, although it is not. It is a governable reality through inherent laws given by the Universal Mind. Our thoughts, I realized, are dicated by our state of mind and our view of everything. Really, the only thing that mattered was the beauty of life, and its infinite complexity.
To feel the rhythm, to
Feel inspired, to
Enough to step aside and weep like a widow. To feel inspired, to fathom the power, to witness the beauty, to bathe in the fountain, to swing on a spiral out.
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