Citation: curious. "Talking Curtains, Angry Cactus: An Experience with Peyote (exp57791)". Erowid.org. Oct 19, 2018. erowid.org/exp/57791
I am a student attending high school at a rather young age, and of small stature. Just this past year (around 6 months ago) I began experimenting and experiencing more and more drugs over the course of weeks. In chronological order, I started off with shrooms (but that's another story), then weed, alchohol and cigs, vicodin, salvia, paroxetine (paxil, poor choice. Did nothing for me), cyclobenzaprine (flexeril), aderral, norcos, dip, oxycontin, peyote, and I just got a prescription for methylphenidate (concerta/better known as ritilin) which I will most likely submit an additional experience report for. I do not plan to move onto anything “harder” but the possible chance of LSD or coke, which I highly doubt I can get my hands on as a sophomore in high school. Both would be to try, and would do as much possible to not allow myself to go any further with these two.
One day at school, a friend (let’s call him “D”) tells me he could get some peyote. Of course, as I have not tried this yet, I decide it sounds like a good idea. I had a fairly good knowledge of its effects and figure it would be similar to shrooms. It was different. For my first time with this, it was a fairly decent experience. I got to my D’s house, along with 2 more of the crew. D had put a good number of fresh peyote buttons into a food processor and made a sort of smoothie with it. If measured in an actual measuring cup we had around ľ of a cup each. We added a hefty serving of sugar in with our drinks, as D stated earlier that it tasted “like fucking shit”. It did, except it was more like “shit fucking my mouth”. We got a glass of grapefruit juice as a chaser for the horrible taste along with flaming hot cheetos. The hardest part was drinking it down. The texture was so horrible, I don’t think I could ever do this again. I figure we should’ve dried the buttons first to make a powder, then add water and make a sort of cold tea that we could at least chug. Our drinks were pulpy, lumpy, had weird splints of partially dried cactus skin, and a horrible taste. Once we were done drinking this (took about 20 minutes, ended at around 2:20 PM), we all decided to take a stroll outside. I felt like I was going to throw up, and did about an hour after consuming the “unsmooth smoothie”. Twice. Around this time I could barely feel the effects and wished I would’ve had more, but since we were out, and I didn’t want to have to down any more, I shared a nice .5 bowl with a friend. Good Cali bud I might add. I could feel the weed, but there was something else there. Yup, you guessed it.
I sat down on a log (D lives in the country) in the yard and stared down at the loose pebbles and dirt while my friends rode a go-cart around. Somehow, in some way I sensed the pebbles and dirt wanted to be a stream of water, and almost began seeing it before I looked up to check if this day was really happening. I looked down again and heard a voice telling me that somehow everything is connected, and how there is a secret of nature, but no one may know it. Someone leaves us clues of this truth, but no one has found it. Quite euphoric and a little weirded out, I decided to rest inside the house and asked the others to come.
This was a couple hours after the “potion” consumption. We got inside and ate dinner somehow. D’s mom used to grow pot, but she isn’t cool with any sort of substance and kids, so we had to keep everthing cool. D blew it by acting…well…obvious and he began repeating what his mom said after every word and giggling constantly at the dinner table. At this point I was a bit annoyed that his mom knew, but she didn’t make too big of a deal about it (until the morning, but luckily I was gone by then). I was fairly hungry, and no longer nauseous as well. Good thing I wasn’t tripping out too hard either.
Afterwards, we retreated to D’s room and put on some jazz DVD’s and some stand-up as well. The weed had worn off, as it had been about 3 hours since I smoked (my usual come off time). This was all kind of a blur for me but I do remember there was a shirt hanging on the wall on a hook, and it super super super bugged me, so I ended up grabbing it and throwing it on the ground(D was mad, but soon forgot about it). I proceeded to look at the window. Somehow, in some way, the blinds, the window, and the curtain above the window made a face. I immediately observed the other walls to see if this was the same with them as well. All the walls were suddenly faces! At this moment I began noticing that the walls and doorways seemed to be “breathing in” but never breathing out. It was constantly being pulled inward, but at a slow rate. I’m not claustrophobic so it didn’t agitate me much. I turned back to the “window man” and he began talking to me. I had a notepad handy and I proceeded to jot down every word he said in order of that which he said first. “We are objects of your description, be alarmed.”, “Do not disturb thee who have been eaten”, “we have yet to fear he who is within”, “the easiest question to ask is ‘what’s your name’, the hardest question to ask is ‘why’ (as in why’d you do it?)”, and “Do not let 10 years pass before you realize these are the good ‘ol days”. This was all very strange and hard to comprehend, but once I wrote it down and read it, I began getting a bit scared. Something deep inside me told me that the peyote was angry.
The second thing he said to me made my mind think immediately to the eaten cactus, and I felt it was angry that I had taken it. That it wasn’t to be used to get “fucked up”. That it was only for spiritual use and the individual cactus I ate was a special one, with its own spirit and mind, that it was meant for someone else, and it was angered that he was wasted on just another high schooler looking for fun. After this, not much happened, as I was in sort of a sad, regretful state, though I didn’t admit it to my friend as “T” kept asking me why I looked so down. The bed did turn into a river and we were floating along it, and trippy stuff like that happened, but nothing deep or anything occurred. At 9 PM, my dad picked me up and I went home, coming down, but still a little tripped out. I went immediately to bed only to wake up the next morning to find my friends were caught with alchohol a couple hours after I left and their parents were given a phone call that day. I live in one of THE most conservative households in California and if my parents had gotten that phone call, I would’ve been done in the ass. Talk about luck.
It wasn’t a bad experience for the first time, and I fairly enjoyed it, though for me, it was one of those things where it’s like “it was good to try for the experience, but I don’t plan on doing it again” kind of thing. I know I rambled a lot for a rather uneventful trip, but I hope this was worth something to at least someone.
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