Citation: Brainslookfunny. "The Hand that Rocks the Mushroom: An Experience with Mushrooms (exp67920)". Erowid.org. Jun 6, 2009. erowid.org/exp/67920
Gee whiz, what a messy, what a messy life. A pile of shit sometimes. Well good things grow from shit. :)
I started out by eating about 3.5 grams along with a strawberry banana smoothie. I smoked a little herb and lay back. Normally waiting for a trip to come on can be quite nerve racking. Sitting there, watching Half Nelson and waiting, soon I had butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies and knots swooping and tangling, I just sort of tossed around on the ground for a while, until finally I had digested enough.
Father's Day. My dad died last year, sweet release. I had a terrible morning thinking about him, and finally cheered up after much support from my family. I had been conferring with him in fantasy, trying to seek him out with the mushrooms. It gets so frustrating that there are questions I have for him that I can never ask. Things I know he could tell me that now I have to find out on my own.
After about an hour of Half Nelson, everything had become vivid. Just glowing and bright. Things weren't moving or crawling, shapes weren't sliding around like typical visuals. In the dark under my eyelids were massive dimensional webs of patterns like fabric that extended wherever. Reality was still very coherent, I still felt very 'here'. It was nice, albeit I felt like I had my finger in a light socket. I felt bold. I decided to eat what I had left.
While waiting again, I chatted online with a friend. Our imaginations seemed connected and on point. Our conversation had a feeling of perfect balance. Saying just the right thing to get a laugh, just the right insights, just the right timing. Too perfect, so it probably wasnt really haha
He logged off around the time the second snack was kicking in. The visuals didn't really get more intense, but a sensation so bizarre began to take over. I felt like there was a force around the area. It had no discernible shape or characteristics, but I was unstoppably attracted to it. My limbs felt like metal shavings drawn to a magnet. They were pulled towards a point that kept moving. I couldn't help it anymore. I just had to move the way it was pulling me, and that was that. No choice. No resistance. I didn't want to resist, I knew how limited my power was against it. I threw myself down to the bed, and began moving in reverse.
I kept rocking back and forth on the ground to a very steady rhythm. I moved in odd paterns first to the left, then back to the right, then left again. Overwhelming rhythm, I rocked and swayed and tumbled and flipped, pulled like a ragdoll. I settled somewhat on the bed, where my hands found a little pair of brackets that we use for installing window coverings. The bracket seemed to flip magically around my hands, which worked beyond my normal control of them. Seriously, I can not move this bracket with my hands the way I could last night. I was handling it like those guys who are skilled with little poker chip tricks. After some time of this I felt like nothing more than a chip myself, and all my flopping and tumbling came to a rest (somewhat). I broke into a massive sweat, and went to the bathroom to puke. Nothing came out, but I lay in the bathroom unable to move, just sweating like crazy. I kept picturing passing out here, my grandpa finding me on the floor in the morning and thinking I had drank too much. I knew that wouldn't happen though. Eventually I got the strength to get up and go back in my room.
I didn't experience ego death. Not at all, becuase I cold still recognize myself clearly. MY body was still in tact. But, I suddenly found myself in the soil. I could taste a strong, bitter, earthy smell. Minerals I supposed, and dirt. I could't really see it, but I could feel it, smell it and taste it. I felt myself twisting around in the dirt, bonding with it. The smell was incredible. The strongest shit and dirt smell ever. I didn't say it was pleasant.
I was so sweaty and sticky still. I felt like a sticky wet blob sort of expanding in the space in the dirt. Giant bubbles would pop out of me, gas escaping them (I farted or burped) and when they did, I grew in that direction. Every new area that grew started as a fuzzy liquid that solidified into white mass. I recognized that I must be feeling what its like to be a mushroom. Eventually the mushroom reality started to overshadow my normal reality. I started growing faster and faster. Its funny now thinking what I must have looked like, squirming around on a bed and waving my arms up into the air and twisting my hands around. At the time it looked like stocks of mushrooms growing up into caps that would open. I wasn't just one mushroom, I was becoming a whole colony of them. I would be one fruit at a time, but I could feel down at my legs how I connected to all the other fruits (is fruit the right word?). I cared deeply about the next growth, and when a new fruit would sprout I would channel into it and become it. And when it had grown, move on to the next and so on.
I started to realize that perhaps I really WAS a mushroom. And that all this time my life and my consciousness was simply some spirit existing as a reflection, an illusion that existed between the molecules in the fungus, it was the consciousness of fungus and man, shared. A ghost of the dmt, or so I imagined. It was very confusing as to why a mushroom would need this type of consciousness, but I wasn't really in a position to question it anymore. I kept feeling contact with all these incredible orgasms that happened around me. A female voice would talk to a male voice, ask it to 'do that again', or simply moan a little with delight, as if longing for some sweet sex. I could still sense my body and the room just fine, if I opened my eyes it wasn't like I saw myself down in the earth. It was just a layer, another reality that existed alongside the normal one.
It seemed to go on forever. Forever and ever. The only scary part was when I thought, if I am some consciousness inside a mushroom right now, and I have broken through the illusion, this could last forever. This could go on infinitely without scale, and I would be trapped in this state of half man / half mushroom. It was getting to be too much, and I waited patiently for some decline in effects.
This happened eventually, after many stages of fungal growth. Towards the end of the experience, I found myself in a box growing in someone's room. They took excellent care of me. They knew where to scratch these spots on my stocks that felt like joints, and when they did I would grow in many more directions than normal. They pet me like a dog, they fed my gases of some kind (although I don't know how really). I remember thinking 'no, that's too much nitrogen', and then wondering if it really WAS too much nitrogen (parts of my ego were still very much intact) or if I was just being paranoid. My monitor finally went into sleep mode, and in the darkness of the room I felt peace finally. I felt I could hibernate, that my growth could go on auto pilot, there was no longer such chaotic force pulling me, but a force that attracted in all directions, so that I was held perfectly in place.
This is the middle, I thought, over and over again. Is this the middle? This is the middle. I must be at the middle. My caps were opening up and shooting spores off into the wind, and I got to feel what it was like to move in that wind (if even just a little). Somewhere in the middle of all this I passed out.
Woke up just a little bit ago feeling refreshed and clear. I can remember last night better than I usually remember things. I can't believe I fell asleep only four hours or so after eating.
Well anyway, that was pretty long but thanks for reading.
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