Citation: Embryowassup. "Wallpaper is Cool: An Experience with Mushrooms & Cannabis (exp54589)". Erowid.org. Feb 13, 2009. erowid.org/exp/54589
I decided to graduate beyond occaisional pot smoking. I don't drink alcohol, and I'd been interested in psychedelics such as psylocibin, LSD and Mescaline for a while. However, it seems impossible to find mescaline and LSD wasn't available at the time. However, my brother did manage to score some shrooms that he bought for waaaay too much money. Regardless, I bought my share (2 grams). We sent our parents to a Bed + Breakfast for their anniversary so we could have a solid day or two to fix up whatever we messed up. We didn't do a very good job of that in the end, though.
So, my brother invited a few friends over, and we smoked some weed. Then my brother and I went into the kitchen and ate our bags of shrooms. People had told me that they tasted terrible, but I didn't mind the taste at all. I actually thought they tasted kind of good. So after about five minutes, I got bored of my brother's friends, and I couldn't smoke any more pot. I have a very low tolerance for pot. I've been known to be high for 20 hours from two hits. So I decided to go down to the basement to play guitar. With every riff I played, the taste in my mouth changed. However, it didn't seem like I was tasting the music, but the music did affect the taste in my mouth.
After maybe a minute, my brother's friends asked me to put my headphones on. When I did, I felt immersed in the music. Everything seemed in time with the music, though, that might have been because nothing in the room was moving except for me. The taste in my mouth continued to change with every new riff I came up with. I didn't follow the musical patterns that I normally follow, and the music that came out sounded like something you would hear in Bowser's castle. Every so often, I would see an image of computer-generated stone walls. Not only did I get mild visual hallucinations, color variations and the like, but images would presented themselves for a fraction of a second, temporarily manifesting my sight. Initially, they came infrequently, such as the stone walls, however, as time went on, they got more intense.
After maybe 15 minutes, I turned off my amp and headed upstairs. I talked with my brother's friends for a little while, and they eventually left. I then decided to take a dump. Big mistake. I sat down on the toilet, and the images came in flurries. I saw childhood pictures of myself, old family photos. I also saw disturbing images involving feces and assholes. In the end, I was angry at my penis. At this point, I was convinced that I was having a bad trip. Though, it wasn't so bad as my brother's friends', one who ended up completely naked, another who stabbed himself (he's doing fine, by the way). I wiped my ass, though I don't remember if I actually did take a dump. I might have just sat down, because I didn't think I had the capacity to stand up and take a leak, and flushed the toilet.
I then went into the living room where my brother had migrated. I told him that I thought I was having a bad trip. He told me that if I were having a bad trip, I'd know. I think he may have thought that I was trying to induce a bad trip on him by saying the words 'bad trip' because that would be the sort of dick thing he would do. I began to fidget as the images of childhood photos continued to flash before my eyes. My personality vascillated between that or my brother and my mother, or at least, that's how I thought I was acting. I continued to fidget, and my brother said, 'Dude, just try leaning back,' harkening back to about a month prior when I was absolutely gone on weed, tweaking out like crazy.
I made my way upstairs to my bedroom, and crawled under my covers. I tossed and turned, and I don't think I got any sleep nor rest nor relaxation. Eventually, I came downstairs, still fully tripping. My brother didn't seem to have as much of an effect. All he kept saying was, 'I want to go somewhere. I want to do something.' I kept telling him that there was no way he could go out the way he was. So I went to the den to watch TV as he went on the computer to listen to music. He was listening to The Doors and The Who and other bands that he'd come across during his recent classic rock binge. The music was very much different. There seemed to be various echo effects as well as various other sound effects like a wah or phaser or flanger guitar pedal.
Then I turned the TV to MSNBC. Watching the news while on shrooms is another big mistake. Hardball was on, and Chris Matthews had a substitute who was moderating a debate (or front) of 4 right-wing news anchors, including Joe Scarborogh, Rita Cosby, and two others whom I can't remember, maybe Tucker Carlson in there, too. Joe Scarborough had the floor because Chris Matthews wasn't there to interrupt everyone. I didn't process what he was saying, or even talking about, but he was talking convincingly, and I was agreeing with him. However, as he continued to talk, it seemed as if he realized that I was agreeing with him, and became smug and self-content. That got me a little angry, and I began to disagree with him. However, he maintained his smugness, which annoyed me even more.
Luckily, Hardball ended quickly enough, and Countdown with Keith Olberman came on. Keith's face kept changing into slightly different faces, taking on minor characteristic changes in his chin, cheeks, and forehead. I looked out the window, and I noticed that the leaves' colors had taken to oscillating greens and yellows. Behind the shrubs in the foreground and behind the fence, there were what appeared to be vines but thicker that resembled the shape of spider webs, like something out of a Tim Burton movie.
After a little while, I migrated to the kitchen, probably to get something to eat, though I don't remember doing so, where I discovered the glory that is geometric wallpaper. I looked around the room, staring at various walls, watching them change depth and busyness. I eventually sat down at the kitchen table, staring at the wall, watching it grow big then small. Sometime between turning on the TV and walking into the kitchen, my brother went out and met up with some of his friends. He and two of his friends found me sitting at the table staring at the wall. I informed them that, 'Wallpaper is cool.'
At that point, it seemed like my trip was over. Until...
My brother invited a few people over who invited more people over. In the end, there was beer pong in the kitchen and party bong in the den. I took to the bong because I don't drink alcohol. I took a few hits, and the trip came back. I sat down in one of the two easy chairs in the den as my friend, the only one whom I called over, sat in the other. He asked me how the trip went, and I told him. I also told him about how the corner that the walls made with the ceiling looked like modeler's clay, though I said adobe at first, taking a while to actually remember what modeler's clay was called.
I went over to the computer and listened to Living Colour's 'Cult of Personality' and then Damian Marley's 'Welcome to Jamrock' and then some various Saul Williams songs. The song 'Ohm' made images appear in the wall behind the computer. They looked yellow as was the paint of the wall, but my brain told me that they were, in fact, purple. The song 'Untimely Meditations' was the most unsettling song, so I stopped it midway and abandoned the computer, returning to the den.
Other than that, there was no more tripness. I was extremely sluggish the next day, unable to heed my brother's requests to help clean the kitchen, which had become sticky from spilled beer. I was only able to do one task at a time, and something as simple as throwing away a piece of paper took me 10 minutes.
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