SWIM spent most of yesterday afternoon on a good portion of psilocybe honey and actually recorded an album during that experience. Though his experiences with THH and DMT were still very much in line with the recurring themes of his prior experiences, much of the physical portion was exhausted fairly early in the day, with some heavy lifting in the morning and the violent drumming and throat-singing of the afternoon's psilocybe reveries. The evening began with a communion between SWIM and his band-mates--having had an incredibly successful recording session--involving, firstly, the construction of a couple new mini-machines.
We started out listening to Ravi Shankar to facilitate our journey then moved onto a couple films:
http://www.ubu.com/film/oursler_evol.html &
That second one's fairly incredible but has some rather...awkward scenes toward the last part.
It was after everyone left that SWIM's experiences went wild. A lot of the time was spent reviewing and editing the recording while smoking, especially one song in particular which drove SWIM incredibly wild (can't even begin to describe the pleasure of so thoroughly enjoying a song one has had such a strong contribution to).
SWIM should first mentioned that SWIM neglected to report a "jim-jam" (maybe?) experience in one of his last reports, but it was quite brief and caught SWIM off-guard. He was actually among company, watching "Apocalypse Now," so it was a bit inappropriate and had been a long time since SWIM has had such experience (at least a couple times from back in the early days of FASA, once while having sex
). The first time, SWIM was twiddling around with his mini-machine and noticed that it started to feel malleable, so he looked down and saw it somewhat melding with his hand. His hand itself looked quite odd...like a flipper hand or something. This last time, the hand was the first thing he noticed, as it began to take on a thin, alien appearance. Then everything became somewhat fatter, and SWIM's fingernails become strangely elongated. This was incredibly real for SWIM and was lasting for some time, so he decided to just play around with it. SWIM found it rather limited and a little annoying for lasting as long as it did (seeming like he would never come out of it), and so he decided that the only solution was to smoke more, which seemed to do the trick. SWIM has reached similar states with higher doses of psilocybe but found them to be more agreeable.
The rest of the night progressed as usual with DMT and THH, until the THH was starting to wear off and SWIM re-dosed but then smoked far too soon with a large dose (unmeasured, since with THH and waxy full-alk spice, SWIM just rolls up little balls and loads them) while kind of jamming out to the song mentioned earlier. SWIM bombarded by gold and silver foil (or something like that) and diced to pieces, but apart from the dicing, such an experience was familiar to SWIM, so he just enjoyed it and somehow reconcile the vision with the spirit of his bond with the song. Then the tears started flowing, and he went cold. He rubbed his arms and torso rapidly to try to keep warm, as he felt cold as death, then a familiar feeling and vision came upon him: He began to glow light blue and felt and incredible rush of information filling his head (similar to what happened a couple of nights prior with crystal spice and even more similar to some prior experiences from long ago, but MUCH more intense). He felt almost as if he had been encountered with the choice of transcendence, but he chose the Earth.
The THH had kicked in for the rest of the night after this experience, and SWIM was recording music from his recording medium to the computer while smoking. The best way SWIM could describe the feeling at this point between the various accomplishments and experiences from early in the day, the aforementioned experience, and listening to his album with DMT vapor and the sublingual THH in his system is to say he felt "hot-shit," like a fighter pilot (a recurring theme for SWIM) entering the fray or something. A few lines from "The Futurist Manifesto" come to mind:
Quote:# We intend to sing the love of danger, the habit of energy and fearlessness.
# Courage, audacity, and revolt will be essential elements of our poetry.
# Up to now literature has exalted a pensive immobility, ecstasy, and sleep. We intend to exalt aggresive action, a feverish insomnia, the racer’s stride, the mortal leap, the punch and the slap.
# We affirm that the world’s magnificence has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed. A racing car whose hood is adorned with great pipes, like serpents of explosive breath—a roaring car that seems to ride on grapeshot is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.
# We want to hymn the man at the wheel, who hurls the lance of his spirit across the Earth, along the circle of its orbit.
# The poet must spend himself with ardor, splendor, and generosity, to swell the enthusiastic fervor of the primordial elements.
# Except in struggle, there is no more beauty. No work without an aggressive character can be a masterpiece. Poetry must be conceived as a violent attack on unknown forces, to reduce and prostrate them before man.