Citation: Beryl. "Angel Trumpet and Devil Trombone: An Experience with Brugmansia (exp54985)". Erowid.org. Jul 7, 2009. erowid.org/exp/54985
There came a rapid knocking on the bathroom door, not for the first time. Why was I being rushed? There were two other bathrooms on the airplane, why was the one I was in so popular? Since I could remember, I haven’t been comfortable using a bathroom when other people were around, and now someone was slamming on the thin, plastic door of this crate of a lavatory. When I was finished, and had been angrily stared down by the pouting Asian mother outside the bathroom holding her moaning baby, I sat back down and prepared to endure the remainder of the flight back to Miami. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I finally made it. I tugged my bulging, hefty duffle bag through the narrow isle, and then I scurried into the gate. My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. The caller ID showed a picture of my boyfriend, Shokk.
“Shokk!” I squealed, excitedly.
“Well hello. Are you off the plane?”
“Yeah, I’m at the..uh…thing..where you go when you get off the plane.”
So, I talked to him as I navigated my way through the airport’s long, pretzel-scented hallways. I was then reunited with my mom and Shokk. I couldn’t have been happier. Shokk and I kissed and linked hands as we followed my mom to the outside of the airport. While waiting for our ride, I proudly displayed a whole bunch of the things I’d made at my art camp, like the little glass mushrooms I’d sculpted in lampworking, and a dragon batik I had made for Shokk. My dad pulled up in the car, and we all got in, me in the backseat with Shokk. My parents were talking about something separate from Shokk and I. Shokk said he had a gift for me too, and he pulled out a book written by Tim Burton, one of my favorite directors and writers. Then Shokk squeezed my hand, and told me he had something else for me too.
To fast forward through the story, and the events insignificant to the reader, let us skip to when I have taken a shower and am sitting at the kitchen table, my mother brushing my hair. The doorbell rings, and it’s Shokk, who had been driven home, but was now coming back to the house to pick me up. We went back to my room when my hair was finished, and Shokk's eyes light up and he tells me he has made “Green Dragon”.
Now, Shokk has always liked to experiment with things he can easily get his hands on, that many people don’t know about using. He explained to me that this tea he’d made is composed of angel trumpets. I knew from childhood that those flowers were poisonous. Many times I had asked my parents what would happen if they touched me, and jokingly they replied “Nothing, just don’t eat them!”
Unfortunately for me, I am a moron, and I was excited about this opportunity to try a new drug, despite my lack of former knowledge or research. Shokk told me he’d tried it the previous day, and that he’d tripped and talked to people who weren’t there, and his eyesight was messed up. For some reason, at the time, that seemed like enough of an explanation of the effects to make me okay with trying it. I also attribute my behavior to camp. At a camp like XXXX, filled with rich, Jewish, art-oriented teenagers, drugs are one of the only conversational cores. The others being sex, and music. So, I must admit that all the discussion at camp made me a malenky bit hungry for a psychological screw-with.
So, Shokk and I got into the Prius, a little, buggish vehicle I’ve learned to recognize and love, and we begin to drive toward Shokk's house. Shokk motions toward the cup holder, which is occupied with a tall, silver thermos. The other with a pack of Marlboro Light, which Shokk quickly assures me upon my glance, is his father’s.
This format is taking too long, so I’m just going to brief this shit now.
As Shokk explained to me earlier, he was actually on an errand for his father to go pick up milk and some more smokes, and he was just picking me up along the way. As we drove to Wild Oats, I poured myself a thermos-cap of the hot, green liquid inside. It smelled like cinnamon, but looked like absinthe. I took a taste, and it was not very pleasant, but tolerable. After every few shots as I was finishing off the three thermos capfuls I would finish in the car, Shokk let me cover the taste with the lollipop he was working on, not drinking any at the time himself. We picked up the milk, and drove back to Shokk's house, where we met up with Lokk, my best friend. We hadn’t seen each other in a month, as I had been at art camp, and she had been taking a month of mini-courses at Yale. We hugged, and brought in our things. Her mom had gotten us a flat crust pizza, and I had a bag filled with gifts for Lokk because her birthday had passed on the seventh, when we were still separated. We all went inside the house. Shokk poured a coffee cup of the tea and told Lokk it was hallucinogenic.
Lokk, being the smartest of us three, asked some questions. She didn’t know much about the ingredients, and asked what was the amount needed to start effect. Shokk told her it was a cup, and then took out a measuring cylinder and poured out exactly one cup. We started talking, and then made our way to the patio in the backyard, and all sat down on the couch by the glass table in the back. Lokk tried the tea, and, due to the unpleasant taste, could only down about a half of the exactly poured cup. I finished off her half cup, and Shokk and I passed back and forth the coffee cup full he had poured earlier. So, in all, I had about 2 and a half cups in me, and then around 3 and a half because Shokk poured some more into the coffee cup, which I drank myself.
Shokk kept checking my pupils, and Lokk was terrified when he told her that the tea dilates your pupils, because her mother is very punctual to check hers when she gets home. Dizzy and uncomfortable because Shokk kept grabbing me and staring at me, I decided to go inside. When I stood up and walked to the door, I slammed into the frame, as my depth perception was already lacking. Lokk and Shokk soon followed, and we all sat down on the couch.
Now is when my memory begins to give out. I remember Lokk asking Shokk to hook up her digital camera to the television so she could show us pictures from Yale. He wouldn’t do it, so she just showed me on her digital camera while Shokk played Mars Attacks. Then some reason, we were tired or something so we all went into Shokk's room and rested on his bed. I don’t remember much after this, but from what I’ve been told about the night, the story is as follows:
We had to pick Jesus, my good friend and Shokk's brother, up from the airport because he was flying in from New Jersey or something. So Shokk, Lokk and I got into the car with Shokk's father. We dropped Lokk off at home, and then were on our way to the airport. They told me I was babbling incoherently the whole time, and told them “Never mind” every time I was asked what I had just said. We then got to the airport, and Shokk was led by someone to the gate where Jesus was supposed to come out of. I remember the airport appearing to have nothing in it except this one tiny little café, and a row of chairs, but it seemed to go on infinitely. I was scared of being alone with Jim, and he kept looking at me, and eventually, after I had been wandering around a while, grabbed my shoulders and asked me what I was on. I said I wasn’t on anything.
“C’mon, I’m not stupid. What did you take?”
But I kept denying being on anything. I remember going into the bathroom and looking at my pupils and seeing that they were uber-dilated. I also remember feeling extremely nervous, like I had overdosed on some kind of speed.
My memory suffers still, but I am told I got lost and wandered around the airport lost for three hours before the guys found me. I remember talking and then turning around, and Jesus was there, and I was surprised to see him, and saying something to the effect of, “Woah, Jesus, when did you get here?”
Then they drove me home around 2 AM, and I remember seeing a live action role player out my window.
That night in my house many strange things would happen. I remember a number of hallucinations from that night. I saw transparent, giant, hissing and clicking roaches on the ceiling of my hallway. I remember becoming friends with someone who looked like me in the mirror of my bathroom. I remember almost waking up my parents to help kill the cockroaches. I remember my mom telling me to lie down for a while. I remember being on the computer, talking to people who, when I turned around were not the silhouettes I had seen out of the corners of my eyes.
What my brother told me is that I kept saying random things, and saying I had to get on a plane or I’d miss it, and when he told me I was already in Florida, that I said “Oh yeah, land of the free!” My mom had come and found me taking pictures off the wall in the hallway. And, in my room, I’m told I was folding my pajama pants and putting them in a gift bag. Also, I was moving things around in my room. I remember that if I picked something up, like a pen to write with, and didn’t use it immediately, it was whooshed out of my hands, and I eventually accepted all these things, disappearing people and objects, as part of the new reality.
The next morning, I was still fairly delirious. My mom had gotten a phone call from Shokk's father. Shokk was worried about me, and he had told his dad what we all did. My mom called poison control, and then followed their orders by taking me to the emergency room. When we got there, I had a loose grip on reality, and I had to go to the bathroom while we were waiting. In the stall, I was constipated from the belladonna, and I was hallucinating still rapidly. There were thousands of tiny, transparent maggots squirming out of my feet and the grout in between the bathroom floor tiles. Ant and Lokk appeared in the stall with me. My mom came in and told me to hurry because the doctor was waiting, and it made me very uncomfortable. I remember talking to someone in another stall because they were sniffling, and I think I was trying to comfort them. The lock on the stall also became a face and the screws securing it were eyes. It was talking about something, and then I looked at it, and consciously thought “That’s a lock” and then it morphed back into a lock.
When I weaned myself off of the toilet, I was taken into a room in which I was attached to an IV and made to drink a jumbo-size cup of activated charcoal. The poison control center made the hospital keep me in intensive care overnight, and that proved to be good because my heart had irregularity ten times in the night.
Can’t have the Angel Trumpet without the Devil Trombone.
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