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Museum of Spectacles
DMT, Mushrooms & Alcohol
by Donovan
Citation:   Donovan. "Museum of Spectacles: An Experience with DMT, Mushrooms & Alcohol (exp93315)". Erowid.org. Jun 8, 2013. erowid.org/exp/93315

 
DOSE:
T+ 0:00
1 hit smoked DMT (ground / crushed)
  T+ 1:30 1 cig. smoked Tobacco  
  T+ 12:00 2 g oral Mushrooms  
  T+ 14:00 1 hit smoked DMT  
  T+ 17:00 1 hit smoked DMT  
  T+ 26:00 1 hit smoked DMT  

BODY WEIGHT: 140 lb


Hello, my name is Donovan and this will be my first report regarding experiences of a psychedelic nature. Just to provide a little background regarding myself and the circumstances surrounding my encounter I will tell you that I am what some would call a very “spiritual” personality. My brother, Boob we call him, and I have been on a rollercoaster ride of fantastical advancements since we read “The Celestine Prophecy” in 1999. He, Boob I mean, leans a little more toward the theoretical side of our sojourn while I like to dive right into the more practical areas, which of course includes the use of psychedelic substances for the exploration of the psychological aspects of our perception. I had always been primarily interested in altered states of consciousness due to their ability to so brazenly expose one to their deepest illusions and most precarious understandings, and I had experimented with LSD and psilocybin as well as many of the more conventional substances such as marijuana and alcohol for quite some time to little avail. I found that THC helped to enhance my attention span and enthusiasm towards hobbies such as writing and playing video games, while the relaxing effects of alcohol allowed for me to be much more outgoing in social environments and to stop hiding my true nature from others. Hallucinogens provided a much needed and awe-inspiring vacation from the monotony of everyday life but had never left me with any truly groundbreaking insights into the nature of reality aside from revealing how dynamic and “liquid” my perception of it could actually become. I had thought that my aforementioned forays into the lesser known world would have prepared me for some of the more powerful experiences available to the human psyche but upon testing salvia for the first time I was made briskly aware of how deeply wrong I was. What happened in that instance would change my life forever, but that is a story for another time. In this submission I would like to make an attempt at illustrating as best I can the sheer craziness that is the DMT trip.

After trying salvia a few times before reaching what I like to think of as the “bottom of the universal mystery” I became very frightened of that encounter with what seemed to be the “real world”, if such a place exists. However, I was still very enticed by the idea of returning, only under more manageable circumstances. With salvia I could not even ascertain a method of fighting to remain myself let alone negotiate the great void to which I been introduced, and I was hoping to find an “easier” way to get “out there”. Meditation works to some extent, but could never take me so far so fast or in such a tangible and observable manner. At the same time no other narcotics could compare to the all-consuming effects of that simple little plant. I was in a fix to be sure. After spending the past couple of years dealing with severe family-related financial problems, having little to no time or aspiration for uncovering deeper levels of understanding I felt stunted and stifled in my quest for personal evolution. When we stumbled upon accounts of DMT and Ayahuasca induced adventures relating encounters with entities existing in a realm that seems “realer” than this one I felt that we had encountered providence, as we just so happened to know someone who actually had some DMT for sale at the time. As soon as Boob and I got back from work with our pay in pocket I purchased myself a one way ticket to “elsewhere” thinking that if I could handle salvia at full force then surely I would be capable of piloting the DMT vehicle without difficulty. Yet again, I would find myself deeply humbled.

In order to relate my experience for what it truly was I must first elucidate my state of mind in regard to the occasion. Throughout the course of my spiritual and psychological training I have become deeply obsessed with the concept of an existing “God figure” in the universe. Now before you jump to any conclusions let me state that my fascination has absolutely nothing to do with any religious study or kinship, in fact, though I believe that some ideas related in the Bible and other such religious texts are especially relevant to my personal understanding, I do not, never have, and never will prescribe to any one religion and maintain my personal opinion that devotion to any religion destroys one’s ability to comprehend a true God to some extent if not completely. The God figure that I speak of is simply the infinite mystery of existence. Where did we come from? Where are we going? What is our absolute situation, our ultimate truth? What is really happening here? The God that I seek is simply an ultimate comprehension of who I really am beneath the manufactured illusions of an inescapably superficial reality. The self-proclaimed realizations that I had made during my encounters with salvia were particularly frightening to me and of course these would inevitably colour my experience with DMT. I intended only to maneuver deeper into this bizarre void of consciousness in the hope that some greater sanctity might be revealed thereat, and though I cannot be certain of the validity of my conclusions regarding the event, I do believe that just such an occurrence has transpired.

Anyways, when I went to pick up the brown sugar-like pebbles from my buddy down the street he offered me some magic mushrooms that he had left over from a little while back along with it and I figured that one couldn’t go wrong with a price as cheap as free, another friend of mine had left my brother and I a couple bottles of wine that he had procured from the warehouse in which he works as a celebratory gift for me having recently acquired employment involving restorative carpentry with Boob in an impossible economic environment, and we already had some extremely beautiful weed to smoke, so I was sure that this would be a weekend to remember. I have a severely addictive personality and tend to overdo things as often as is possible. I rarely ever really regret this behavior, but boy was I in for it this time. I decided that since we had just finished a long and arduous week of woodworking and we were already tuckered out for the night that I would save the mushrooms and wine for the next day when we were well-rested and did not have to work in the morning, but I just could not will myself to wait on the DMT. I had already been waiting long enough.

For the price of just ten dollars I obtained a plastic vial containing seven rocks resembling amber but smelling very similar to old dust in the attic of my childhood home, each of which would be sufficient to propel an individual into the cosmos. Of course, having no grasp for the gravity of the drug that I was about to abuse I asked Boob for a small nugget to pack as a filter and then proceeded to cover it with three stones smashed into powder. “Here we go!” I say confidently to my dear brother as I set the flame the pipe and pulled. I had intended to hold the hit in as long as possible for maximum effect but almost immediately found myself scrambling to get the smoke out before it all became too intense to endure.

As soon as the smoke entered my lungs I witnessed the objects around me tear apart from their halos, leaving neon streaks of electromagnetism hanging in the air around them which stuck in place and then shrank as though being pulled by expansion into the vastness of space. At this point I remembered it, not from any experiential account that I can recall per se, but more from a primal, instinctive perspective. I “knew” what was happening, and all I that could say before collapsing on the floor was, “Ohhhhh...” The sound of my voice droned out into the rapidly shuffling distance as a wave of electrical vapor swelled into a tsunami that came flooding in from the right of me, and all that I could do to keep from being swallowed was drop onto my back and close my eyes in an attempt to escape the chaos that was suddenly ensuing all around me. I witnessed then, without eyes to see, the ceiling and walls of the room transform and inflate with a weightless force into an enormous dome of prisms resembling diamond eyeballs peering in at me from the edge of the world while radiating rainbow coronas in every direction. It was as though the living room had become this great museum of spectacles that had always been there just beyond my ability to perceive and had now been revealed, ephemerally, for me to partake of. I felt that though I could observe the museum from a singular point within the museum that somehow I, at the same time, am the museum. I wanted ever so desperately to exacerbate how amazing it was in vivid detail but all that I could manage was, “I can’t fraking explain it... I don’t even know what to do with myself here...” That was when the shifting began.

Suddenly everything was tumbling and folding into itself, much like what I have experienced with salvia in the past, however, the difference is that this time I was still me and was able to see what was actually happening. The gravity was shifting, but not without deliberation. The very rules that make up the game of life were being rapidly changed ever so slightly by some alien persona very concisely, as though the function of the existential machine depended upon the shuffling of these values. When I use the term “alien” I do not mean extraterrestrial, I mean truly alien, inconceivable. Something entirely unknowable. Again, this conception is totally congruent with my experience of salvia, however, again, this time I can actually maneuver, and so I move toward the edge of the dome where I find a strange man standing in the corner manipulating pulleys and levers as though he was running the stage arrangement for some grand play. He works the mechanisms in the corner while turning his gaze around to me, smiling wildly. He looks eerily similar to Two-Face from Batman, and even appears two-dimensional, like a comic-book character. I think of him as being the museum’s curator. I can remember thinking, “This guy’s obnoxious.” before making my way back to the museum showroom in the center of the dome.

Upon reaching said area I found myself standing in the living room again, effervescent clouds of color streaming from the walls into the vastness surrounding like a cacophony of vacuums oscillating infinitely. I could then just begin to hear disjointed ramblings approaching. It was a myriad of sounds collecting into small bunches that made up little symphonies. Each one was a different genre of music entirely and sounded quite discordant uniquely, but altogether the differing music created a larger orchestra and I could just barely make out the melody. The song was beautiful beyond words, yet still, I could not stand the madness. The rules were continuing to shift, the gravity continuing to fold, and I feared, yet again, that I would be lost forever. Looking over towards the couch I see Boob sitting straight up with his eyes fixed on me, and for the first time since the initial puff I can feel my own eyes and how wide they are. I must have appeared positively frightening at the time. When I see him I get the feeling that I am viewing a mirror of some kind and I am relieved that he is present. My exact thoughts were, “I’m cool, that’s Boob right there. That’s Boob? I’m Boob! I’m Boob? I’m not Boob. Have I been Boob this whole time?” and all of a sudden I am someone else. I have been the entire time. “Then who is Donovan?” I wondered. The riddle was humongous and encompassing. Everyone that I knew was in the room at this point, all going about separate businesses, I just couldn’t see them if I tried to look. I could feel them though, because I was them! “Residual memory.” I told myself, but I was my brother, so who was me? The rules continued to fluctuate, not immensely, but just enough to keep us all confused. The curator continues to meddle obnoxiously, but not without reason. I reach to my left and feel the leg of the coffee table.

Suddenly I am back in the living room again. Boob notices the change in my demeanor and asks me if I’ve returned. “I think so” is all that I can honestly tell him. There is still a very conceivable current of electricity snaking its way throughout the room, but for all intents and purposes I am me again, and I am lucid. I tell Boob that I think I have to vomit and begin walking into the bathroom. Immediately upon entering I recognize a strong feeling of nostalgia sweeping over me like excessive déjà vu. I said to myself, “I’ve been here before” and for whatever reason it seemed so very sad and desperate, as if I’d been there forever. The area repeatedly assembled itself in patterns befitting its character and I felt as though I was standing backstage at the show of all things, alone. After attempting to gag myself into vomiting a few times in hopes of relieving myself somewhat I looked into the mirror and saw that I was me, truly, not some other person, and suddenly I sobered. I walk into the living room and smoke a cigarette while trying to accurately relate my experience to Boob.

The next morning we ate the mushrooms with the intention of playing a two-player role-playing game while tripping. No more than a half an hour in and I was no longer cognitive. I had absolutely no idea what we were doing or what in the hell the point of any of it was, so I stopped playing and we began to watch a television show. Immediately I recognized the embossed quality of the picture from the last time I had ingested psilocybin whereat myself and a good friend of mine sat here all night laughing hysterically at a British television show about survivors of an Earthly holocaust rebuilding humanity on a barren planet, and I suspected that I would experience the same type of trip as then, mild and unproductive. I was wrong. Within an hour or so the entire room had taken on this very distant quality, like the walls of an aquarium, right there, yet so far a way, and the objects in my environment were floating on a tide as though the ocean has swept into the room and overtaken things. The cat was being a grouch in the corner and I was finding this all very amusing and enthusing until...

I find myself awakening to the realization that Boob and I had been sitting here doing all of this together for ages, forever even. It was like we were the first two people in the Garden of Eden waiting throughout eternity for each other to wake up from this crazy dream that we’ve been having. I felt as though he knew every intimate detail of my life, and in this nakedness I felt ashamed and scared. I felt as though I needed to retreat. I couldn’t bring myself to embrace the extreme unity of this relationship. I could not face this reconciliation, yet. I had to run away and hide in waiting. I felt so stupid that I had been doing this for so long. The whole world knew as well. Everyone that had ever been was pointing and laughing at me because I created this insane illusion to hide myself from my closest friend. A voice is telling me to get up. At first it seems like a motivator telling me to get up and make a better life for myself, create a better me, but then it begins to twist and turn, seeming more like a first-responder finding my body on the ground and begging me to be alright. I begin to think that maybe I really have been in some horrible accident and this is someone trying to revive me. “Get up! You have to get up!” I open my eyes to find that it is indeed a person speaking to an unconscious body, on the television. “Damn, that was freaky.” I tell Boob who is hiding under a blanket on the couch. We both come to and decide to take another shot at playing the video game.

We run our characters in circles and stare at the clouds laughing and exclaiming how very awesome everything looks for about fifteen minutes before throwing our controllers to the floor and laughing at them as well. I feel as if I am at the peak of something now, just close enough to reach higher, and so I suggest taking another hit of the DMT. Of course my brother isn’t into it (I think he’s afraid), but I don’t let that deter me and I take a hit of what remains in the pipe from yesterday. It greatly enhances the trip but does little else, nothing worth mentioning here at least. Later on that night I take another hit with a very good friend of mine who cannot partake of other drugs due to enforced legal parameters, and we got high together, that was about the gist of it. It was a very fun night, but nothing exceptional beyond what I’ve already mentioned.

At any rate, disappointed with not having returned to the fantastic museum the night before I waited until early in the morning the next day to try one last time, as our resources had grown slim and my brother hadn’t taken his chance yet. I could remember distinctly having felt as though I were fighting the trip the first time and that I needed to relax in order to experience it fully. It just so happened that the wine had been left over from the first night and all seemed to be perfectly aligned. I drank the wine slowly as I watched videos on the internet of people relating their own experiences with the drug in order to build myself up to the moment. It was an extremely beautiful young lady that described, to the best of her abilities, having seen angels in her visions that finally pushed me over the edge, and I packed up probably a little more than I should have. I took a long, slow drag of the pipe and immediately I recognized having made the same mistake again.

Now, I cannot fully remember what happened here as of yet, but I can tell you that I was scared beyond my wits upon awakening from it. I recall having become a two-dimensional black and white zigzag pattern and remaining that way for quite some time. I felt as though others were watching from somewhere, though from where I could not tell, as I was existing in a two-dimensional universe. I remember a gigantic face, somewhere. A woman’s face, made of rainbow colors. She was watching me, and it seemed as though she had always been watching me but I simply had not noticed until now. Though she seemed complacent, I felt as though she was happy that I had recognized her. During the episode I lost consciousness at some point and had very vivid dreams wherein my brother failed to relate to me his experiences with DMT several times over the course of a full week’s worth of time, even though he had not even really tried it yet, after which I awakened to my brother getting up very early in the morning which led me to believe that I had skipped a day and that we had to go to work immediately, which scared me quite a bit. All in all, it was a seemingly eventless experience, but I feel that the insights are apparent, and I am extremely grateful to have been a part of it. Until next time...

Exp Year: 2011ExpID: 93315
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: 28 
Published: Jun 8, 2013Views: 40,634
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Alcohol - Beer/Wine (199), Mushrooms (39), DMT (18) : Small Group (2-9) (17), Glowing Experiences (4), First Times (2), General (1)

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