Finding Doors in the Wall
H.B. Woodrose
Citation:   moderngirl. "Finding Doors in the Wall: An Experience with H.B. Woodrose (exp74667)". Nov 13, 2013.

7 seeds oral H.B. Woodrose (seeds)
This is my third experience with this substance and with psychedelic drugs in general, apart from strong weed, which I would say has psychedelic properties. I took the seeds the same way I had before, by crunching them up in my mouth and swallowing them. The seeds I buy from a headshop are already washed and peeled. I actually like the nutty, earthy taste of these seeds. I don't really get nausea with most things, and I've taken nutmeg before without feeling too sick.

I waited for the effects to begin by reading a novel. After about half an hour, the text on the page started to fizzle a bit; I looked up from my book and noticed shadows flitting very rapidly across the room. I went outside and noticed the plants were also dancing with these rapidly moving shadows. I then struggle to hang some washing on the line whilst I'm surrounded by the intense light and the flitting shadows.

When I get back inside the house, I notice the room isn't rectangular anymore. Instead of a planned building, it seems to be a space where lines meet of their own accord. This isn't very disorienting or even unusual to my mind at the time. In the kitchen, the sink bowl with it's soapsuds soaking the dishes can only be described as perfect. Then I have the urge to look at every reflective surface in the house.

I eat a bowl of cereal and chew to a rhythm without meaning to do so. Then I drink a glass of orange juice, which can only be described as perfect. None of the over-sweet tanginess of citrus juice was there at all, it was a sweet taste without any of the bad qualities of sweet tastes, which is hard to describe. I don't realise that sweet things aren't normally so tasty until I taste something that's perfectly sweet. I then sit around enjoying the shadows and the light for a long time. I don't know how long. I sort of ignore my family in the house, but still answer them when they say something to me. I notice my conversations are pretty much normal, and I don't say anything weird or stupid, but Iím not thinking about the conversation as I'm talking. It's as if human interaction is not a priority for my mind right now, but neither is it a chore.

I go to my room and try to meditate. I practiced Buddhist meditation for a couple of years and I've recently taken it up again. The light is distracting me, so I throw a blanket over my head. I have more success now with concentrating on my breathing and on being; as this is happening, I start to have CEVs. At first, I see a glowing, rotating disc changing colours from mauve to peach. Then I see the inside of a glowing plant cell, with its nucleus and chloroplasts floating around. After that, I see a castle tower against a luminous blue sky, and then I see blue cilia moving around. None of these things means a great deal to me, but I could watch them all day. After all, I was meditating on flux.

I open my eyes, and decide to begin again. This time it takes longer to see the CEVs. The yeti appears and the expression on its face is sublime. Then I see a single beetle moving its legs in an intricate repetitive way, and then I see many beetles. Then I see a whole carpet of them crawling up a man who is made out of wood, a kind of anthropomorphic tree. The tree-man looks like he's in pain, and I tell myself beetles don't do that, ants do, but these are definitely beetles. Although the beetles never stop moving, they never get further along the tree-man's body, which makes me think this vision is about a state of permanent discomfort and fear. Then I see an eagle flying above all this, and the eagle has a jewel around its neck and it swoops high above the poor tree-man. This vision shows me there is more to life than discomfort and fear if you can see like the eagle, even if you're stuck in the position of the tree-man. The final visions were a cave of fire, a fluorescent flea, and a giant, godlike, anthropomorphic preying mantis.

I then wrote a couple of poems, which seem quite good in the cold sober light of today. I find that even when I haven't taken drugs, meditation and an open state of mind help me to write better.

I'm not normally an imaginative person, not since childhood anyway. I was a hyper-imaginative child. Nowadays I write poetry, but I don't imagine things so much as reassemble memories when I write. I can turn on my childhood imagination sometimes, but not for an extended period. I don't think these visions were all strictly imagination, anyway. There might have been some element of my conscious mind involved, but these visions seemed to arrive spontaneously from some nether-region of my mind. I've had similar experiences to this that have involved deleriants, opiates and skunk. I don't think only psychedelics give meaningful visions, but I suppose they are less physiologically harmful than most drugs. I will continue this experiment with other psychedelics, and I will probably try mescaline next.

Exp Year: 2008ExpID: 74667
Gender: Female 
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Nov 13, 2013Views: 20,815
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H.B. Woodrose (26) : General (1), Glowing Experiences (4), Alone (16)

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