LINK to PART 1


PART II

I was trembling now, from skin to the bone below. Oscillating twixt two extremes, with two incompatible ideas whetting my ware :

All across my skin the shivers of deep comfort,
And just under the thin, the slivers of discomfit ;
I am as I never was, and I never was as I never have been
While my bones tremor and slip the hell of bliss and forget my skin.

The shivers are electric - pleasant and unbearable, tingling to shock. I think of fear and submission and rapture and control and am unable to align the opposites : they are all equal.

I am emboldened and humbled :

Brought to my knees, I am invincible.

The ROOT (see part 1) is strong, eternal, and I feel its power inching through my body. I am stumbling amidst the building blocks of consciousness. It’s so strange. So Alien. So other than OTHER.

I thought of consciousness as indivisible from reality. The sum of all, and all sums. A big mandelbrot-like bubble, fractal versions of itself erupting from its body – nodes, groupings along its surface – we are all nodes, insofar as our consciousness is concerned. Nodes upon nodes upon nodes seated on the mandebubble itself. Mathematics is a language. And as such an incomplete picture of reality.

Data builds on data and shifts and bends in unto itself and forms a little node, a cluster called JBArk who is finally aware that he is a node : a nexus of information, a part that contains the whole, a hologram manifest in flesh, flesh that houses the node, a little knot in the woody surface of the REAL...

That’s a lot of metaphors, I know !! That’s the problem with language (and equally with mathematics and deductive logic) – we can only point vaguely towards, gesture awkwardly with inadequate symbols, find incongruous comparisons to explain these realizations. I have stated this elsewhere, but I feel our alphabet is missing at least twelve letters, our tongues several gutteral and linguistic sounds, mathematics a myriad of symbols and our minds, well – if only we could quantify all our minds are missing to fully understand the import of the scraps that fall from the table above… !

The skeptic in me must remind himself that these are all only fleeting, albeit profound, impressions. TRUTH ? Felt like it at the time… felt like the ONLY truth.

At this point, out of nowhere, nausea rose like froth at the confluence of two filthy streams. I was over 2 hours in, closing on 3, and was feeling an illness rise through my ribs, and simultaneously through my skull – my brain felt nausea ! But not poisoned ; just illness manifest… A mental purge. It lasted a few minutes which may have been hours, then subsided. In its awful wake surged a new fear. I was afraid.

My flesh feared.

I looked at a photo of my baby son, so small and new, yet conscious. I fought the fear with Love, and wielded Humour and laughed. It took tremendous concentration not to be consumed by the tide of fear the nausea had become. My son, in the photo, was radiating electric tendrils of white and aquamarine and crimson and the blackest of blacks and emerald and multitudes of colours unseen. All radiating from the image, the photochemical symbol of his small head. I would come back often to this photo during the remainder of the trip for reassurance and grounding.

The trip was unfolding, invading, overwhelming. Synapses firing faster than the processor processes. Senses galloping to keep up.

Then the REAL-EYES-A-SHONE :

THIS IS A GAME. WE ARE, I AM, YOU ARE - IN A GAME.

And I made the game. And I signed a contract. With myself. And all of you signed a contract - but when you were me and I was you and no divider existed. The contract was to never know until the game ends. And here I am, on 4 hits of acid, one of many keys I planted, we planted, as a test - breaking my own contract !!

What does a perfect being most desire ? God made a game to set himself limits so he could know imperfection. In all its imperfect forms. And resigned to live it out to its inevitable, flawed conclusion…

A sudden and annihilating sadness inhabits my soul. I sob inwardly.

I AM NO MORE THAN A GAME. I AM THE GAME AND THE PLAYER, NOTHING ELSE. A STORY. WHOSE END IS DETERMINED BY ME, AND WILLFULLY FORGOTTEN, BY ME.

But a story nonetheless.

Then I began to understand one potential consequence of breaking the contract : misery, illness, mental torment - schizophrenia… ? The game was designed with keys, keys that open portals to understanding the connections between certain fragments revealed. But the game wasn’t designed to accommodate the use of these keys. It seemed to me, in this most altered of states, that the keys are free will. The only free will in a predetermined story. A « joker » built into the game, a tempting way of cheating, of breaking the rules, of learning the mere shadow of the true face of reality, the consequence of which was the inevitable destruction of the feeble mind that plays the game, ignorant of the rules and of the game itself. So that the game ends the way it is designed to end.

So, these keys circumscribe the illusion of free will. Wow – so circular I’m dizzy…

If ignorance is bliss, is its corollary true? Is wisdom misery ?

No :

La sagesse n’est pas la misere, mais la misericorde.

A VERY rough translation :

Wisdom is not misery, but mercy.

All I know for certain is that reality is far, far stranger than the strangest thing imagined by the strangest individual to have ever lived this strange existence.

My humblest thanks for reading.

Stay tuned for PART III. It gets even stranger… !

JBArk

Link to PART 3



The culprit, the elucidator, the fiend, the KEY:

Again, beautiful jbark. You put it all so succinctly. Thank you.

Very very very great. You bring back the memories so well...

jbark, as I told you already, beautifully expressed, both part I and II. A lot I can relate to! The electric shivers, the 'contract' we signed before being born, the fractal bubbling of reality, the nodes in the matrix, the game analogy...

and just as all the truths and ideas appear as clear as crystal, they also melt away, always one step in front, like the dynamic jester/joker playing his tricks....

Acid is really special

I like these reports jbark.

Keep m coming..

Thanks everyone. There are at least 2 more coming; I am just finalizing them!! other than you guys, doesn't seem to be much interest though...

Oh well, i want more than anything to share them, but i am really writing them up for myself! I keep all my various trip reports in a folder for future perusal.

Cheers,
JBArk

JBark, perhaps some people just haven't been to this place. The contract and rules fit exactly with some of my own LSD experiences. Cheers.

Very articulate write up, Ill be interested to see where this leads.

that tab looks alot like your avatar as well.

As for relating to your post... well lets just say I will never be able to articulate the truths lsd has presented me, having eaten hundreds of doses in a few years, but you do come close to a few of them in this report. excellent work and I thank you.

SWIM's recent psychonauting journeys - after a very long hiatus - have confirmed to him and deepened the knowledge that even thoughts about "breaking the contract" are just, well, more thoughts....thoughts that are no different from every other possible thought. Thoughts can be distracting and can lead to things like pain and misery when seen as separate from oneself - as if the thinker and what is being thought about are two different things - but it becomes quite liberating to understand them as no different from one's own underlying consciousness. And that underlying consciousness is no different from everybody else's underlying consciouness.

SWIM's friend once suggested that if one could contemplate that for eight uninterrupted minutes, you'd make some terrific progress. Maybe switch your pineal gland into overdrive, or something!

Not yet having journeyed with spice or aya, SWIM suggests that San Pedro himself is a wonderful guide with which to contemplate this, easy to get along with and full of lessons that can be carried back to the next day and integrate into one's life.

I am loving the write ups! Wish I had checked here again sooner so I could tell you sooner, but ah well. You put the words down so well, so freaking well!!! I have felt the same way as you describe in many of my trips before. I always thought I was the only one with this memory of signing a contract of sorts.

I had this dream the other day related to that:





Yeah. Interesting. Some of the hardships I was born with have been directly implicated with this thought pattern/sensation. I also got feelings that some things were tricks played on us by (ourselves as) other beings before signing the contract as a sort of practical joke. It's all a big game, right? so on a larger scale, why not..play with yourself in such a way? It sort of makes sense, in a cruel way. If you view life as a balancing sheet that works on the scales of many lifetimes then it eerily begins to make too much sense hehe


Thank you so much for sharing!

[If it's relevant, I had this happen on both LSD and DMT on separate occasions (years apart)]

A little, yeah!! Mine's a Mandelbrot set, though, not to get too picky!

JBArk

Pau wrote:



Pau - thanks for reading. But are you suggesting that we disregard our thoughts? Or disregard some of them? Or that they are somehow invalid? They're all we've got, after all!

That last bit makes sense to me though - the thinker is the thought. And the thought the thinker.

And the stink the stinker? sorry couldn't resist...!

In part 4, the conclusion, I will elaborate my thoughts on all of this (not the stinker part though). Stay tuned!!

JBArk

Sounds as if SpiceGirl has written a 21st century update to the Tibetan Book of the Dead! Rebirth...death...rebirth...death...oh yeah ... rebirth...death again...etc etc...
Until we see it for what it is.

So are you Bardo Spice?

JBark...not that I have any answers, but if one pulls the plug on thinking and just lets things hang...understandings come in a very natural way....

pulling the plug on thinking is something I always wanted to do... but never could.

I have this unstoppable mind machine that doesn't let go until its last breath (and even this last breath can happen only if it is supported by its own understanding and consent).

I thought that this OCD is a pain in the ass (and it sometimes is, can be seen as destructive and quite inelegant sometimes) but now I feel it also has some worth (I learned to accept, perhaps even love it). I sometimes feel that with my thoughts I can solidify certain ideas in this reality. you know, by expressing something from the world of imagination (latent possibilities) it becomes tangible, ready to manifest. bringing down stuff, finding a form for it, express it, watch the waves it generates (as a stone thrown into water), then feel that it changes something over there also (feedback from this reality to that other one) and then wait for the next impulse.

this process feels like work, like digging or churning of reality.

No, thank YOU, spice girl, for taking the time to read my drivel! A pleasure to share. An even greater one to feel it connect with someone.

And, yes, it's VERY relevant - i am noticing increasing crossover effects myself. The substances are converging...

JBArk

Stay tuned for the conclusion!!

Hey Jbark, just read this and instantly thought of your series:


From Soul and Daimon

I once came to the same conclusion after a series of salvia experiences: this – everything – is a game. I didn’t experience “the game” directly during any of the experiences, but the thought occurred later, and I imagined this very literal scenario:

Imagine that at the end of your life, you open your “eyes” and suddenly, you remember. You’re a “teenager” at the local alien video arcade and you’ve just finished playing a game. As you remove the game apparatus, you see your alien friends around you, and they ask you, “How was it?”

After shaking off the disorientation, you tell them, “It was great! I was a human being living during the 21st Century. It was a little like ‘jbark’, and it reminded me a bit of ‘gibran’, but it was really unique!”

One of your friends says, “It was like ‘jbark’? I’ve never played ‘jbark’, let me go next.”

And then your friend puts his quarter in the slot, selects ‘jbark’ from the menu, and takes his turn…

Wow - this really freaked me out. Only a quarter? I had set my worth at at least a buck!

But seriously, you hit the nut on the bullseye's head! That is exactly what I intuited (with the exception of other teenage aliens having the option to play JBArk or Gibran2!), and what drove me to great sadness.

And reading it DID freak me out...

It is amazing, revelatory in fact, how utterly convinced we "feel" of these intuitions while different substances circle around our cortex, pierce the BB barrier and fiddle with various neurotransmitter receptor sites...

i went in looking for change, and found it! thanks for an interesting reading of my experience. Check out #3 and stay tuned for #4!

Cheers,
JBArk