I got back from the lab at around 11pm, folded some laundry, scooped out the cat litter, took out the trash, put a bag of frozen salmon in a bowl of warm water to thaw, and brewed some Caapi (Andy has never used Caapi before). By brew, I mean that I put 2 tablespoons of Caapi powder in a coffee mug, half-filled the cup with water, and put it in the microwave for 2 minutes. After cleaning up the resulting mess in the microwave, pouring brown liquid from the microwave tray back into my cup, I tried straining my dark-brown Caapi liquid with a coffee filter, and then with a napkin, and then I gave up. I settled for decanting the dark brown liquid into another coffee mug, rinsing the wet powder, and re-decanting several times. I drank the dark-brown liquid. It was bitter, like a stout, and it was grainy like a liquid that would refuse to strain through a coffee filter. I waited 40 minutes, listening to music and otherwise dicking around on the internet whilst trying not to think about the significance of what I was about to do.
10 minutes or so after I started feeling [presumably] Caapi-related effects. I closed my laptop and put it aside. I pulled The Machine and a lighter out of the drawer. I took a minute to subdue pre-flight jitters before emptying the machine. It was not enough. I reloaded the machine (Andy has been saving his freebase for a session involving an MAOI), and took a big hit. The room immediately became cell-shaded and beyond. I thought I might encounter "aliens", but my body became alien. My legs and arms were not my own. Even my face seemed like a mask. I looked up toward the ceiling where I saw what could only be a subconscious psychosomatic imagination of what hyperspace should look like. Unconvinced, I looked up again into hyperspace. It was a sea of roads or ribbons. Ribbon roads and drawer rooms. I wanted to understand what I was seeing and how I was seeing it. I looked back down and down again, and then back up and up again. I could see it all at once. I explored it thoroughly: Twisted tubes, broken flasks, liquid spilling everywhere, etc. etc. The creatures started to recede into their respective realms, slowly closing the hatches behind them. I could tell that the experience was coming to a close as well. Hyperspace remodeled itself as my living room. It transformed as though I was watching the come-up in reverse. (Andy expected the experience to last longer. He suspected that he had not vaped enough DMT)
I took another big hit from The Machine, and was immediately immersed in the same hyperspace. It was an impressive show of mind-fuckery. I wanted it to stop. I wanted to get past it. I wanted to get to the meaningful part. (Andy was not able to form these thoughts because every word he attempted to grasp exploded before he could use it. Meaning fell apart in a chain reaction leading to an avalanche of ego-death. His self-consciousness crystallized and shattered into a million pieces. He merged with hyperspace. He wanted to revert, to go back, but there was no backward or forward, nor was their a sense of desire; only a strong feeling of discomfort.) I don't remember hyperspace being so uncomfortable. I wanted to get to the meaningful part of the experience, but all I was getting was the inconceivably complex part. For 10 minutes or so as I was coming down, I experienced a surge of energy in the form of a massive tremor wave that bounced around inside my body. At one point the wave channeled into my neck, causing my head to oscillate side to side. I stopped this after a few cycles for fear that my neck would break. Otherwise, the tremors were a pleasant sensation. (Andy thought that the erratic nature of hyperspace may have been caused by the [hypothetical] fact that he had kept his eyes open the entire time. He decided to trip once more with his eyes closed.)
I took a big hit from The Machine and closed my eyes, hoping I would be taken to more familiar pastures. As I started to fall into hyperspace, I started to regret my taking another hit. I thought to myself "Why did I choose to do this instead of just listening to music, petting the cats, and eating salmon? If I wanted to be happy, why didn't I just stay where I was?" I had planned to take another hit in an attempt to break through this hyper-hell... (...but it was too late. Andy had again reached the singularity. He knew that there was nothing past this because he was already nothing. Beyond meaning there is no justification, and thus no motivation, and thus no action. Andy has always been fascinated by the beauty of consciousness...) ...but in this place, consciousness was not beautiful. After seeing it disintegrate so easily, I realized the fragility and futility of consciousness. I wanted to eat and work and play and go about my meaningless existence in peace. I wanted to be alive without knowing death. I felt that I was in some sort of purgatory between life and death. I was conscious but devoid of humanity or meaning.
I understood why a person would rip their own eyes out. (Meanwhile, Andy was having a pretty morbid experience: Envisioning killing himself and stuff) There were rivers of blood, dirt, and broken glass. There was death in my veins; death standing over me. I was submerged with a shark. It was consuming me. I was insane and alone. I was psychologically damaged. I wanted to interact with someone or something; anything really. I reached out desperately, but to no avail. (During this time, Andy would begin an interaction with another being, only to have his perception of the interaction transition from 1st to 3rd person such that he was alone again. This cycle repeated many times). The end of the experience was bittersweet. I was emotionally drained, but had also discovered that running my fingers through my hair felt good.
So all-in-all it was a good experience. (Shut up Andy. you know you're confused and traumatized.) I mean, it was certainly very interesting, and even beautiful in a dark way. (Andy clearly does not remember the experience in any measure of detail.)
Thanks for reading.
Hixidom
Every day I am thankful that I was introduced to psychedelic drugs.