Citation: mere. "Deluge of Experience: An Experience with LSD (exp89094)". Erowid.org. Dec 21, 2012. erowid.org/exp/89094
LSD Trip Journal begins: I need to try to straighten out what happened so I can read about it later, or at least just see it written down so it can’t keep escaping me.
Let me note that when I first consumed this Happy Fungus Juice, as Austin has named it, I had no idea any of this mind bending bat-shit insane stuff was lurking just around the bend. I was under the impression that my mind would remain relatively sober while enjoying some crazy hallucinations. This was not at all the case in the very least whatsoever. I was so lost. I was lost in my own mind. After getting off work at five, on a Friday, I walked over to a house my friend was taking care of for somebody, met up with my two friends, and dropped three hits of acid in the form of liquid dropped onto candy. It was about five thirty.
After waiting around for about an hour and a half I began to feel very altered, along with my friends who we’ll call Austin and Ryan. I, however, was feeling much farther off base than they were: a fact I almost doubted in the beginning, but it became more and more apparent as time wore on, because phenomena which I felt acutely in the early hours were later reported by at least Ryan as well. When I come to think of it, I did have 50% more acid. Upon investigation online, the three hits I consumed is larger than an average dose, especially for a first try. As we started to come up we decided it would be good to be outdoors and exited the house on foot, bound uphill to a forested river area.
Out in the forest on the trail everything I heard seemed to be echoing to me from a tremendous, tremendous distance. I had no idea where I was, and totally forgot my location despite the fact that I was right next to a well-traveled road that I have known for nearly 15 years. This sensation of being lost was so strong that I repeatedly tried to explain it to my friends. Despite that, I was not frightened. I was simply overcome with wonderment.
What began inside myself as a sort of insistent vibration, or rapid pulse, managed to travel outward into the entire world. Everything was pulsing at me so quickly that it appeared to shine and jump out at me, much in the way images are displayed on an electronic screen, I could not differentiate between the different pulses creating the image, but I knew (or “felt” in this trippy case) that they were in fact separate. They were only streaming together to create what appeared to be a seamless shine or sparkle. They were separate and continuous at the same time.
Depth and size, my very sense of distance was awry in a way I have never before felt or imagined. For example, while on a walkway (perhaps two or three feet tall) I felt as though I were on a very, very tall bridge. And, merely because I could hear a river, I assumed that there was a river underneath this bridge. In reality there was only the ground. Things continued to seem incredibly far away from me, both in that the space between me and a particular rock, perhaps 15 feet, felt exceptionally far, but also in that things that were far away, say half a mile, appeared to be right next to me. It’s as if my normal continuous concept of how deep things are has been sliced into two or three parts (in categories of right there with me, and really really, really far away) there is no in between at all. This was creating some very interesting scenes in my vision, especially since I was in the middle of a muggy, vibrant, rainforest. I continue to forget where I am and feel as if I am on another continent or planet, if not for the fact that my two friends are literally right next to me I would probably have forgotten altogether anything that I knew at all, which is pretty much what happened anyway.
To put it shortly, I was so astounded by everything, by my wheeling and spiraling thoughts, that I had no mental time space to think about anything else: I could only perceive and wonder. My sense of time vanished so that I was existing only in the present (which is the only way that it’s possible to exist anyways) I had no concept of the past, or being there, and little concept of the future, and what it would be like when it arrived. My varied attempts to explain the situation to Ryan were incredibly futile.
My thoughts adopted a quick and strange tempo, which was the only thing by which I could pretend to measure time at all but that measure was completely unreliable for my thoughts were spinning as fast, or faster, than they ever have in my life.
Still out in the rainforest, at my friend Austin’s behest, we began to wander off into unexplored territory which felt more unexplored by several orders of magnitude than I have ever felt about a place before. There was a sort of stream which had confounded us during the entire night up until this time, which Austin had been attempting to make us cross, but which Ryan I were not all that keen to. Looking into the stream was amazing: it was a marvelous cyan, azure rush, brimming with silvery little bubbles flowing over a bed of muted blue, red, and dark grey stones. No less amazing were the trees on which we stood, which seemed to me magnified as though under a microscope even though I was observing them with my own two eyes. They were almost a fluorescent green and orange, or at least the moss, was.
Austin had been trying to get us to cross it (the water) and I, realizing somehow that I had no way of knowing where I was going, but that if I didn’t go somewhere I would be out in the forest all night, just jumped off the shore into the river and waded to the other side.
Being in the river felt amazing beyond comprehension and Ryan and I, not so much Austin, felt strongly that we were in some sort of primal folk tale involving the water and trickster spirits. Austin was the trickster spirit, trying to beckon me into the water, and I was attempting to resist going into the water while at the same time neither of us knew that, or how, we were doing it. The whole incident was particularly surreal to myself, since I had begun to think of the water as a representation for existence itself, and a thing that I must dive into and take part of before I am allowed to leave.
Not for the first time that night, Ryan and I, myself having seconds earlier arrived from underneath the water, were greeting by the sight of Austin running off into the distance and disappearing. This caused me no small amount of consternation, since I was vaguely aware that should I try something similar I would be instantly lost. Ryan and I thus set out to apprehend Austin, and did find him.
He had done a similar thing two or three times earlier and chose at those times to hide in the woods and surprise us as we came along. We all three found ourselves imagining strongly that we were some sort of forest creatures and ran through the woods for the sheer joy of it. These first hours were euphoric, and yet unsettling.
When we managed to arrive back at the house, which Austin was taking care of for a friend of his cousins, it was about 8:30 – 8:50 in the nighttime. Upon or arrival I ended up standing in the entryway, soaking wet yet not displeased with the situation, for about 20 minutes. The reason I could not remove myself from the doorway was because I literally could not think of the first step necessary to get out.
I had not eaten since about nine hours previous to this time (I have now learned that this probably contributed to my exceptionally strong trip), so we decided to order some food. Thank God, my brother came over to visit, or else we would never have managed to obtain the pizza that we eventually ate. Even with my relatively sober brother in attendance it took a remarkably long, long, long time.
Simultaneously, my brother kept repeatedly trying to raise a topic to discuss with me, but for the life of me I had no idea what it was. He explained it several times to my face, yet I still had no idea what he was talking about, because I kept forgetting it the second that it was over. I ultimately just pretended that I knew what was going on so he would stop trying to explain the situation to me. I’m now informed that he was telling me to come visit him at school as a side trip to my other travel plans.
After finally contriving a way to escape from the doorway, a process which was hindered by the physical lack of towels to dry off with, I entered a very solemn couple of hours wherein I meditated on the very concept of possessing. What it means to me . . . to have stuff. What it's like when you don’t, what people need to do to get it, and the way those desires shape this entire planet that we inhabit.
I found myself incredibly grateful for the many luxurious accommodations I’m afforded in my life here with my Mom and Dad. My every need is provided for, and I have done relatively nothing to provide for it. I felt simultaneously very grateful about this, that things were the way they are, but also I felt like it really shouldn't be any other way. On the one hand, it doesn't feel right to say that my Mom and Dad should do everything for me, but on the other hand they’re the ones that called me into this inexplicable and maddening existence, and if they hadn't then I wouldn’t be obligated to provide for myself at all. I felt supremely strange and a little unsettled by these thoughts, since I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about them now that I had them.
Somehow I came away from the meditative state with a feeling, which I am presently managing to retain, of new decisiveness. I feel as if I can, if I so choose, send my life in whatever direction I want. I am not yet happily reconciled to the responsibility of doing so, but nonetheless I feel that is a valuable thing to have attained.
Again and again throughout the night I felt myself thinking, “well that is an amazing thought, but there’s absolutely no way I am ever going to remember it. I better just enjoy it while it lasts at let it go.” This seemed to me the attitude that I should be taking toward every moment in life, and maybe it actually is. I have thought this many times before, on many different levels, but I have never actually done it so intensely.
My thought-scape was continually spiraling into itself, much like the tectonic plates that form the Earth's crust. I felt as though they were all the same basic material, the thoughts I was having, like the rocks on the surface of the earth are all finite but that they were being continually kneaded, milled, or perhaps inexplicably conjoined (although I do not mean to imply the “bad” connotations that these adjectives typically carry) that when the old rocks finally appeared once more, I could no longer recognize them. I must emphasis that this turmoil was swift beyond measure, and not at all like tectonic plates (not as we imagine them anyway) in relation to speed.
Once I realized this was happening, I also realized that I should just stop trying to explain what was going on to Ryan and Austin, since it was clearly not going to work. At the same time I acutely felt an urge to explain my sensations an urge: which persists so strongly, even now, that I have been typing for hours. I also frequently forgot that they had had the same drugs that I had had. Even now I feel that I was far, far, farther gone than they were, but I have no way of knowing if that is true or not. Either way, it doesn't really matter.
After my thoughts about possession ended for the time I moved on dwell on the feeling that I did not want any more drugs of any kind for awhile. I wanted to just relax, safe and sound, at home for a time in my own normal mind. I did not know what I was getting myself into when I dropped all that acid, and it honestly feels like a bit of a slap in the face reminding me like, “yeah, no kidding, stop taking drugs, when did you decide it was okay.” Of course, morally it is perfectly fine, but upon second glance my actions have been in total defiance of the culture I was raised in. Safe to say, I am in no danger from drugs any longer, because I have been shaken by how powerful they actually are. It’s like living with a goddamn Bengal tiger in your house.
Oh, yes, let me not forget, there was also a ridiculously large cat in the small house with us. This was odd, because although Austin stated clearly that it was in the house with us, we could not see it in the least, and it was a very small space. Nonetheless, the cat eventually appeared and was unduly astonishing.
After all this, and no doubt I am still forgetting much of it (although I am impressed with the amount that I have managed to sort out just now), we three travelers journeyed over to the couch and put on “Fearless” with Jet Li. I was very happy to be under covers (there was a nice blanket on the bed) because, what with feeling for what felt like a literal eternity that I was lost in another world, I was a bit shaken and felt subliminally reassured to be in a warmer place rather than a colder one.
Early on in the movie Austin left, and we saw no more of him that night, although we all remained awake for untold hours after that point.
“Fearless,” contains some deep and significant themes concerning violence, strife, and making your way forward in life. As I watched I discovered myself pondering the “essence” if you have any idea what I mean, of those concepts. I was aghast at the way violence finds its way into this world, and felt as though its very existence must just be a big misunderstanding by someone. I was then deeply sorry and unhappy for hours about violence: the fact that it existed.
At this point I felt as if I had been tossed in a roiling hurricane or river of emotion and thought, for eternity, and reconciled myself to dying in accordance with Jet Li’s character as he died upon the screen. I was trying as hard as possible to follow Lao Tzu’s advice (basically go with the flow), so that I would remain unharmed from the water, and I think that helped a bit.
It was time to sleep then, or so I thought, little did I know it was not going to work, for the insistent pulsing was ever-present, so Ryan and I made about transforming the couch into a bed to sleep upon. Earlier we’d failed at this task after being confounded by the simple mechanism of the bed. I was very slightly beginning to return to normal though, and to my satisfaction was able to conjure up the bed, as it seemed, merely by pushing on it harder in the way I saw fit. I said something to Ryan like, “What?! It’s not the way we want it!? Well we’ll just push on it till it is!” and as I said these words I felt that I was talking about existence itself, and that the “pushing” was the exertion of our wills upon the world around us. I was unsettled by this thought, because it was quickly accompanied by a yang to its yin, which was a thought that said, “but what if you can’t push hard enough?”
Thereafter, I lay down on the bed with Ryan. It was rather small and we had to share it. Rather than being unhappy with this I was exceptionally pleased that I wasn’t just lying in a ditch somewhere. I felt like my comfortable existence was in jeopardy, and that I had better just fucking enjoy it before all creature comforts up and vanished. Somehow, sometime, I fell asleep at what I estimate to have been about 3:00 in the morning. I felt like I had been tripping for days. The fact that Ryan was still near me made this thought difficult to believe, and yet I could not comprehend that it was otherwise.
In the morning we awoke at about 7:00, still with slightly bent minds (I am still out of it to a fairly high degree even now, which is 2:00 P.M. later, the same day). We found ourselves shuffling back and forth in the living room / kitchen area, which was emanating strong vibes of Asia and the sea, mindlessly trying to explain to each other how completely boggling and befuddling the whole ordeal had been.
Ryan had to go to work, and I do not envy him in the least right now, as I sit in my own bed marveling and tripping over the occurrences of the last twenty-four hours.
Austin and I left, and once I exited the house I was immersed once again in the sounds and sights of the rainforest outdoors, then Austin drove me back home to Douglas in his car.
At home I felt incredibly relieved to be there, as if I had doubted I would ever make it back at all. I was shaken to the point that I expect I would be were my life to be placed in serious danger. I did not, however, realize that precise sensation until just now, I was simply happy to be home.
I began to make pancakes. It took me awhile, but I was so happy to do it. I was marveling in the availability of the house, the ingredients, the utensils, the running water, the very air, in the house, and felt that by making the pancakes, which was fun in itself, I was doing a nice thing in repayment to my parents for what they had done for me. The interior designs of the house were amazing. I felt kind beyond measure. I recalled, at this point, the severe lack of towels and other conveniences back at Austin’s place, but rather than being annoyed I instead felt happy that I was no in a place where I did have things, such as food, and I could give them to Austin, and everyone else around me. I had no idea how it was happening, but I liked it. I found myself cleaning the dishes, the kitchen, and my room several times that day in truth, in a subconscious attempt to restore order to the world.
It is 11:00 PM now, 00:00 + 29 hours and at last my mind is beginning to quiet, I feel oddly refreshed, exhausted, and alive. I feel that I have come to peace with not knowing anything at all. My mind is still unraveling and reveling in the presence of my otherworldly cargo. It has definitely been a positive experience, and I feel that I’ve gained a lot. While earlier in my trip I had contemplated saying goodbye to all drugs forever, I think I will explore the other world again with Mescaline, but in my own home, and definitely alone. I feel like a time traveling shaman. I am tired, and yet not, and at a loss for what to do. Happy to be alive. Glad I took the time to write this all down. As I had hoped, writing it, re reading it, adding to it (this log), has helped me cope with what can only be classified as a permanently mind altering experience.
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