I started the night in question with a light meal of some succulent ripe pineapple and grapes, chased with an emulsion of green apples, kiwi, spinach, banana, and mango. My energy levels were high, as were my spirits. I had decided to take a deep voyage into a psychedelic mind-state; something I enjoy very often and tend to look to for respite from my daily work-a-day life. Tonight was seemingly the perfect night. The day had been pleasant and unseasonably warm, my upstairs neighbours were necessarily absent, and I felt in a playful and jovial mood. Even my felines seemed to share in the same light-hearted energy and ambiance that danced in the air. There were some things that I was in need of putting to rest in my mind, and I have found that a good voyage into the unknown can help me immensely in that regard.

I sat in meditation for a half hour after putting on some light cotton rugby pants and my favorite Tool t-shirt. I burned some Nag Champa incense which permeated the room with it's sweet and dense aroma. The room was quiet apart from one of my feline companions who laid beside me on the floor, purring contentedly. I rose from my yoga/meditation mat and turned on my desk lamp for adequate lighting. I grabbed my milligram scale from my cedar stash box beneath my bed and strolled into the kitchen to fetch the psychedelic material from my freezer. I weighed out twenty-eight milligrams of 4-ACO-DMT, repeating the weighing procedure three times to make certain the dosage was accurately weighed out. I stirred the Psilly-Spice powder into a glass of orange juice I had juiced that morning, and drank it in two big gulps. I sat back down on my yoga mat, doing my best to assuage the anxiety that usually rears it's head immediately following a dosage of any psychedelic material. My feline friend had retired to his more comfortable bed in the other room, leaving me alone to meditate and prepare for the inevitable come-up that would soon follow.

After only five minutes, I had the first alert. A large wave of euphoria emanating from my core which washed over me, taking with it much of the anxiety that preceded it. This euphoria was somewhat unexpected, as I don't normally experience euphoria that early in the game. During the peak or on the comedown is often when I settle into a euphoric body and mind state. I enjoyed this wave for the brief time that it flowed through me, and was almost disappointed when it retreated. It's as if it was letting me know that this trip would not be par for the course; that this trip would be an entirely different sort of experience. That thought crossed my mind as I waited for the come-up effects to manifest themselves. Within fifteen minutes from my first alert I was besieged by what was uncharacteristically a very rough come-up. Usually this material is rather kind to me, and I rarely feel much body load during the experience at all. Even at this dosage, which is higher than I normally venture, I thought that I could easily dismiss any body load that might present itself. That was not the case, and I found that sitting on my mat and trying to meditate during this come-up was simply not possible. I rolled up the mat and put it into my closet, finding my feet were somewhat unsteady beneath me. I was being overcome with those deep soul-yawns every ten or fifteen seconds, and after a few minutes, I had a deluge of tears running down my face.

I decided that a distraction was needed to aid in getting me through the heavy come-up. I put on an album that I had recently purchased by a band called “Asking Alexandria”. Although I wasn't certain if it was the right music for the moment, I knew it would adequately distract me from some of the odd bodily quaverings that were worming their way through my being. As I sat on my couch listening to the music, the effects became more benign and I began climbing toward the peak of the experience. The lyrics quickly had me thinking of recent events in my life, and how fresh and raw those wounds still were. Particularly, one event that rattled me more than I might have thought it would. Two weeks beforehand, my fifteen year old cousin was hit by a passenger train, suffering massive injuries. He was airlifted to a local hospital, then transferred to a larger facility. He had some very serious head trauma, and we were unsure if he would survive. He managed to cling to life for about five days, and then he passed away.

I wasn't extremely close to this cousin, but I do have nothing but fond memories of him. Going to his house when he was eight or nine, throwing the rugby ball around with him and his older brother in the backyard. I remember him telling me that he was too little to become a rugby player and I told him, “Nonsense. There's room for all types of guys on a rugby team. It's all in how you play the game.” He never did take to rugby much, but he did excel at other sports like baseball. I hadn't been close to him in the few years leading up to his death because his mother and father had divorced (his father was my mother's brother) and he, like many young teens, had become involved with drugs and alcohol. I really felt for the kid, drawing some parallels between his upbringing and my own. Not having a real male role model, turning to drugs and alcohol to attempt to escape from emotions that were almost overwhelming. Before the funeral my aunt let me read some of the poetry he had written, and it drove me to tears more than once. During the funeral the rendition of the song “Hurt” by Johnny Cash was played. His older brother had picked out the song, and it had everyone in the church in tears, even the priest. The priest even remarked that he had never attended over a funeral for such a young child, and he genuinely seemed saddened by such a loss. My cousin was a very intellectual kid with a bright future, and it was all viciously taken away because of one tragic mistake. It made me realize how lucky I was to survive my teenage years unscathed. I made far more idiotic mistakes than he did. Why had I lived and he died? Questions that always surface when one is faced with the death of someone close to them. Your own mortality stares you in the face and you can do nothing but stare back at it with grim determination.

The two songs that set off these thoughts are entitled “Dedication” and “Someone, Somewhere”. The first is a spoken-word song. I suggest you listen to it Here's the lyrics for “Dedication” for those that don't want to listen.



This song prompted thoughts of my late cousin and moved me to tears. Also the second song “Someone, Somewhere” when he sings, “I'm okay, don't worry, I wish I'd been a better kid, I'm trying to slow down, I'm sorry for letting you down.” Those words set tears streaming down my cheeks for the wasted life of such a young boy. He may have been trudging through a dark period as of late, but there was so much ahead of him that it saddens me to the core to see all that potential squandered. I was able to really put him to rest in my mind, and as I write this, I feel much better for it. No one deserves to die at such a young age, but perhaps wherever he is now, he is at peace.

As the effects of the drug increased, I decided that music was most definitely a bad idea, taking into consideration the emotional turn that it was compelling me to take. The effects began as very Psilly, shroom-like, typical of my previous experiences. A marked mental shift along with some blurring of lines and colors, waviness and a playful attitude. Then they steadily rose into the Spice-like realm of a whole other plane. The wavy colorfulness began to form a grid, web-like pattern. When I unfocused my eyes the grid/web would become even more apparent, almost seeming to swallow me and dissolve my being. I closed my eyes and saw lovely fireworks like sparks flowing out of a spherical center. The more these fireworks flashed, the more I seemed to begin to dissolve along these lines of colorful energy. It was a fantastic and very pleasurable feeling. I spent some time having my being/ego dissolved until I felt almost completely removed from my physical body. I tried to open my eyes and could not. It was as if my body was on stand-by and I couldn't access it in my current state. That's when the lines of colorful energy began to form into buildings and structures. These multicolored buildings looked like ancient Greek temples, with many pillars of purple, green, red, and blue. I had no being with which to remark, “This is the farthest I've gone with this material.” That came to me after, and it is very much the truth.

There are bits that I can't recall or explain properly here, but I did enter one of these fantastical buildings and there was a pool of water which some rainbow fish were swimming in and jumping up out of the surface. I also remember a benign feeling of being embraced by someone/something. When I was able to open my eyes, the grid/web was still prevalent and I had a very Spice-like feeling. I had never previously experienced this feeling with what I call the Psilly-Spice, although I've read of others who have likened it more to Spice than mushrooms. I now concur with that statement wholeheartedly After a period of sitting cross-legged on my couch, watching the colors flow and amuse me, I decided to get up and get a drink of water. I don't know how long I was immersed in the Spice-like vision, but my mouth was surprisingly dry, and the cold water was very much welcomed by my parched taste buds. The bottle even felt nice in my hands, as they were somewhat warm and sweaty. The euphoria was still present, but at a lesser intensity than it was during the first rushing alert I had felt earlier.

I sat on the couch watching the movie “Battle: Los Angeles” for the remainder of the comedown. The theme of the movie had my thoughts returning to life and death periodically, and in general the importance and necessity of human relationships. My feline friend joined me for much of the movie, purring beside me while I pet him. I made another emulsion of oranges, grapes, kiwi, mango, and strawberries, which tasted orgasmic. This first part of the series is now concluded. The next part begins with my decision to grab my bong and Salvia 25x, attempting to see how the tapering end of such a beautiful trip would perhaps lend itself to a deep foray into the Salvinorin Seas.

Hope you enjoyed Part One. Link to Part Two.