Citation: Styrofoam Jones. "In The Embrace of The Blue Goddess: An Experience with 2C-E & DMT (exp92499)". Erowid.org. Sep 27, 2011. erowid.org/exp/92499
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My friend (who we'll call D) and I were spending the day together. I had just gotten a shipment of 2C-E from an online vendor and the two of us were already tripping fairly hard on that, but we were feeling great and thought some DMT might mix really well.
Just as a heads up, I will not be talking much, if at all, about the effects of the 2C-E by itself in this report. The DMT breakthrough described below was easily my most profound and life-changing psychedelic experience to date, and as a result, the 2C-E trip seemed rather dwarfed and mundane in comparison, so I don’t really remember many of the specifics of it. I only mention it because it was a fairly high dose of 2C-E and it most certainly played into what I experienced during the DMT breakthrough, at least somewhat. But, for the most part, this is a DMT trip report. I can tell you that the DMT session took place during the 2C-E's peak, 3-5 hours after ingesting a 15-20mg dose and roughly an hour after snorting a couple of 2-5mg bumps.
Anyway, D had already smoked some of the DMT, broken through, and come back with a rave review, so I was up next. We usually liked to play music whenever we took DMT, as it always seemed to make the whole experience flow much more smoothly as well as drown out any external distractions. Not to mention that music just sounds amazing in hyperspace. D recommended a fun techno song that he had just tripped along to (I believe it was 'Face to Face' by Future Trance), so I figured I'd give it a shot.
(I will be writing in present tense from this point on, as that is my preferred writing style.)
I'm feeling anxious, and after 10-20 minutes of psyching myself up, I put my earphones in, lean back against the mountain of pillows we had set up to prop ourselves up along the journey, and inhale the first hit. As I hold the hit in, I gaze at the TV screen in front of me, at the Adventure Time marathon that D is watching, hoping to catch some final, whimsical frames of the show before the drug hits to ensure good vibes and a pleasant trip. I hold the hit in for as long as I can. My heart begins to beat slightly harder and faster, and I know there's no turning back now. After exhaling, I take a few cycles of deep breath to ready myself for the next hit. My body begins to feel light and airy, as if it's turning to smoke, and a faint red orb with bluish black tendrils sprouting and twisting from it appears in the very center of my vision. I've not yet reached the point of overwhelming euphoria that I've come to know and love from DMT, instead my anxiety seems to have doubled. But, I've broken through on DMT once before, so I know that that's just how it goes. 'Pre-flight anxiety', my friend calls it. I keep my cool and press on.
As I hold the second hit, a sleek, wet, hyper-smooth feeling falls over the world, a feeling that I've noticed with all of my DMT experiences. I think it's partly to do with the smell of the smoke, which is kind of synthetic and plasticy, but not unpleasant. I think that once that smell gets in the air it kind of colors the experience. Synesthesia, I suppose. The plasticy smell makes me and the world feel smooth and shiny and malleable, just like plastic. It's nice.
A massive shift in consciousness begins to settle in, and what happens around this point is what I can only describe as the world 'unfolding'. Objects begin to loosen and unhinge, breathe and dissolve, no longer held together by the physical limitations of reality. As this happens, a beautiful, utterly alien dimension seeps in from all angles to take the place of matter no longer there. A connectedness begins to fall over everything, like a strange energy matrix that hovers just outside of normal perception. I begin to feel a strong sense of belonging to the universe, like the mental barriers that once separated myself from everything around me are beginning to weaken and crumble.
Sound starts to vibrate off of itself, shaking the air and creating a steady, visible 'hum' throughout the atmosphere. Things start to become impossibly angled. What was once known as 'the other side of the room' is now no longer. Everything exists on a single plane. The music, myself, my surroundings, everything. It reminds me of one of those paper dragon optical illusions, where the face looks three-dimensional from the front, but the more extreme the view angle, the closer I get to realizing it's just a flat, craftily folded piece of paper. Smoking DMT is kind of like taking an impossible step away from reality, and altering my viewpoint in such a way that reveals the “3D illusion” of the world. This brings about an odd kind of revelation, as my brain tends to react just as it would to something like the paper dragon. 'Haha, I can't believe I've been fooled this entire time! It was only an illusion!'
The body high intensifies and I'm starting to feel incredibly strange and hollow. Every breath feels like it reverberates through my entire being, ricocheting throughout my empty shell of a body before coming back out. It's getting harder to think and focus, and the pipe in my hand is becoming more and more alien to me by the second. I'm beginning to lose grasp of its function, its relation to me, and I know that I have to work fast and get at least one more hit in. I inhale again, making the hit as large as I possibly can.
As I hold the hit, I watch gorgeous, intricate geometric patterns emerge and sharpen all over the room, flowing and weaving along the 'matrix' that connects us all. My vision takes on a bluish-green hue, and its peripherals begin to bend, as if I’m now seeing the world through a camera equipped with a cyan-tinted fisheye lens. I exhale and catch my breath. My heart is going faster than I've ever felt it go before (I'm sure I'm just hallucinating at this point). Simultaneous euphoria and anxiety well up inside of me. I feel a few brief moments of panic, but I stuff them away and embrace the experience.
I decide to try and squeeze in one last hit. With every bit of focus that I can muster, I figure out how to work the strange device in my hands (the pipe), and I take one small, final inhalation. The DMT hits me full force as soon as I take the hit and I let the smoke go almost instantly while falling back against the pillows behind me. My heartbeat is a steady hum at this point, a constant vibration in my chest. The bodily sensations are no longer light and misty, but oddly rigid and angular. It's as if I can feel my being conforming to the endless geometric patterns shifting before me. Not quite completely detached from reality at this point, I look down at my chest to investigate the humming sensation. As I do so, I watch my heart burst from my chest and shoot forwards at an impossible speed. It reaches the wall and somehow just keeps rocketing off into the distance. I see my arms flail around like wet noodles before me, as if I have no skeleton.
My thoughts race to the point of being nothing but a frantic, jumbled, incomprehensible mish-mash of words and memories and commands. It was like somebody had stuck an immersion blender in my ear and continued to puree the contents of my head until I couldn't possibly tell what was going on inside of it. This effect continues to build before finally reaching a crescendo, a place where all thoughts merge, a kind of hectic, fast-paced trance. I can no longer keep my eyes open, and I sink even further back into the pillows as they close.
The frantic jumbling of my brain ceases, just enough to allow some modicum of coherent thought, but not enough to keep my brain from buzzing like an angry beehive for the duration of the trip. There is a brief moment of blackness, and a fierce hurtling sensation takes hold, like being shot from a cannon. A purple glow appears off in the distance, small at first, but growing larger by the second, until I’m completely engulfed in a tunnel of purple and black designs that look like an odd mix of ancient Egyptian or Mayan art and something completely and utterly alien and other-dimensional. I'm reminded of the walls of ancient Egyptian tombs. My consciousness flies through this strange tunnel for a few brief, uninterrupted moments before two figures appear off in the distance, one on either side. They're bluish-purple, and just barely distinguishable from the designs on the walls in terms of appearance. They're both kneeling on one knee, yet still approaching rapidly, just sliding along the floor. Their eyes are closed, and each one holds some kind of container above their bent heads, as if offering something to a higher power.
In retrospect, this was all very odd and unexpected to me. I had broken through on DMT once before and the experience was very bright and positive. I was engulfed by the warmest, most beautiful shades of yellow and green, and the majority of the trip was spent riding waves of color in complete euphoric bliss while all kinds of pristine, oracle-esque shapes and figures presented themselves among incredibly intricate geometric patterns. Or at least, that’s all I remember. It was intense, astonishing, and mind-blowing, I don't think a DMT trip can come in any other flavor. But, there was a simplicity to it that was already missing from this trip. Things this time around had started off with a somewhat dark tone, and an ominous, powerful, almost shamanistic feel.
I began to feel a little frightened, at least as frightened as one can feel in the mind-numbingly frantic throes of a DMT breakthrough. The two figures on their knees continue their advance. I get the overwhelming feeling that I may be experiencing death. A slight but deep sense of dread surfaces for a moment, before being washed away by the “trance”. The figures pass by me rapidly, and as they pass, everything goes black. It was as if the speed of their passing had blown out the world like a candle. A large, purple, shamanistic face, full of lined patterns similar to those on the surface of a microchip, presents itself for a brief moment in the center of my vision before fading away, leaving me completely alone in darkness. A feeling grips me, like being hurled into a world of static and dissolving amongst it, integrating with it, and then nothing. My memory holds but a fleeting frame or two of what came next, which wasn’t much at all. I was nothing more than particles and static among leagues of countless other particles and bits of static, stretched upon an endless, velvety black plane, forever in size, forever in time.
And then, as quickly as the darkness had engulfed me, it recedes with an explosion of color. Familiar colors and colors I had never seen before. Colors that I'm not even sure are possible, ones that I can't even begin to remember. It was like one of those flashing, obnoxious, seizure-inducing web pages, only amazing and euphoric. I feel like I’m materializing, like a swarm of lost atoms, my atoms, have finally found their way home after being gone for centuries. I am myself, yet somehow outside of myself, simultaneously witnessing and experiencing this “reassembly”. Bone, then nervous system, then organs, flesh, and finally soul. A soul that floods with relief as I’m bombarded from all sides with pure indescribable bliss. Like every single cell of my body, every last fiber of every piece of what makes me alive was having the greatest orgasm known to man. My racing mind tries to grasp a word from its feeble human vocabulary, something, anything that could possibly even come close to describing this moment. 'Jesus. Hallelujah.' A feeling, an experience so utterly and viscerally spiritual, that the only words my mind could connect it with were Jesus and hallelujah. And this is coming from a bitter, lifelong atheist.
The flashing colors fade, giving way to a beautiful pink sky. I'm flying over amazing architecture, with designs similar to those on the tunnel walls from before. Like the ancient Egyptian and Mayan ruins clashing with Doctor Manhattan's glass castle on Mars.
I notice a presence behind me. I can't see it, but I feel it. It's blue and female and wonderful. Holding on to me from behind, she is the force that keeps me afloat over this beautiful new world. She speaks to me without words, she tells me everything is okay, that I'm not dead. With her very presence comes more mind-blowing euphoria. I feel as if my soul is being massaged by god himself. The feeling that something incredibly enlightening, that some kind of powerful “secret” lies with this presence is overwhelming, and I am immensely humbled. She is a grand celestial mother and guardian, magnificent and all-knowing, and I am not worthy of her care or comfort, but she gives it to me anyways, as if it is her purpose.
I try to learn from her, ask her something, but the harder I try to think and reason and grasp at petty words, the more my head spins and the more intense the entire situation becomes, leaving my train of thought in ruins. I know this is something I can't question, something I just have to let happen. I fly with her for what feels like an eternity, but at the same time not nearly long enough. As we travel through the sky and over the beautiful buildings and scenery, she communicates with me wordlessly, in a way that seems very alien, but at the same time very “right”, like the long lost but never quite forgotten language of all that is conscious. I would like to call her expressions a song, but they were more like… a pseudo-vocal “energy dance”, or something to that effect. I feel all of my troubles melt away amidst her caring embrace. Every last bit of doubt and depression and anxiety. This is the closest thing to death and rebirth that I have ever felt, or believe I ever will feel. This WAS death and rebirth.
I feel the trancey, dumbfounding grip of the breakthrough loosening, and I gradually begin to feel the presence slipping away, the “song” fading and myself, my awareness of the world around me returning. The effects of the drug are still strongly present as I open my eyes. The world is still in its glorious, 'unfolded' form. I look down at my body, and I can 'see' glowing, pulsing veins and waves of light dancing beneath my skin. This is an effect that I have always gotten on the comedown of DMT, and I’ve always entertained the notion that this was some kind of visual spirit or spirit-energy coursing through me. I feel amazing. Like I have just emerged from the most vivid, wonderful, life-changing dream. I close my eyes again and watch light geometric patterns dance around me. When they fade, I get up and just rub my body all over, feeling frisky and awesome and full of life, like I’ve just had my spirit brought back to the manufacturer and completely refurbished. The intense positivity of the DMT trip pushed the remainder of the 2C-E trip in a perfect direction, and D and I spent the rest of the day just enjoying life. Walking in the rain, listening to good music, and doing childish, silly things.
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