A while back I came across a report on a Datura Stramonium trip, and I think it was worth sharing. It's originally written in Norwegian so I took my chances at trying to translate it as best as I could as my first language is not english.As I personally don't know much about delieriants, but am aware that they can be dangerous, I encourage everyone interested in them to do alot of research about them.I only translated this report to english, the original report was written in norwegian. The orignal link is http://vgd.no/samfunn/vi...apport-datura-stramonium Here we go!On the way home from filling the angel in the center a late spring night, I take the shortcut through a not particularly well-tended garden on the fine edge of town. As I stop to take a leak at a rotten apple, I by chance noticed a striking plant I leave recognize - a half metre growth with large leaves, white trumpet-shaped flowers, and - perhaps most importantly - a big, spiky, egg-shaped seed capsule.
I have read about this plant and seen pictures of it online - it's a datura stramonium plant, one narcotic growth in Norwegian known as spike apple. It belongs to the night shade family, a family which also includes the much more famous potato, tomato, peppers-, aubergine and tobacco plants, to mention a few relatives. However datura contain larger amounts of the potent toxins delirious scopolamine and atropine than the other mentioned crops, and is therefore far more interesting for notorious psychonauts, including yours truly.
The plant tempts me; it seems so shiny and so welcoming where it is under the silvery moonlight, fair and humid fresh morning dew. "Come and get me," I mean to suspect that the whispers with his feminine seductive voice. I zipper up and using the sleeve of my black Diesel denim jacket kicks ass I resolutely away the appealing cookie, cramming the brash in your pocket and runs home.
Next day I call my friend - we may for convenience call him "Geir" - who previously served as trip sitter for me when I tested various psychedelic chemicals. He agrees to come over later in the day to assist me when I shall take this holy growth with a long and checkered history in traditional South and Central American Indian healing arts, European witchcraft and other occult and esoteric traditions.
That evening I sit in my Ikea couch and turn our attention towards the TV - Philips 50 inch HD Ready Plasma TV with Pixel Plus 2 HD, Ambilight and a number of other improvement techniques for best picture reproduction equipped including two HDMI inputs, component video, Scart and two USB inputs. Geir sitting otherwise absently next to me, puffing on a cigarette branded Lucky Strike, now and then sipping a shot glass of cognac branded Bache-Gabrielsen. Geir has all the 643 "friends" on Facebook, and since the degree of happiness and success increases proportionally with the number of Facebook friends, he is by far the happiest and most successful person I know, which as far as not saying much, since I myself only has 38 friends in there, and even fewer in real life.
I decisively start the procedure by cutting up the prickly, former green - now more brownish - seed capsule with a sharp fruit knife. Immediately uncovers lies a rectangular cavity with a hundred tiny black seeds, which is divided into several white meatish chambers. Conscientious remove Geir fruit knife with all other knives, scissors and other potential weapons that are in the kitchen, and locks them inside my bedroom after recommendation from me. The key to the room he also takes into the care of my order. It is recommended to remove all sharp objects within reach of the person who will take datura.
With a regular pepper grinder and associated encounter yesterday I then started to crush a handful of seeds - maybe 70-120 pieces. I will later come to experience the fatal error that number was. Having crushed seeds of a relatively fine powder touches I it out in a coffee cup with green tea as I have previously cooked up.
As I sit so and stir in the cup, eagerly waiting for the liquid to cool, I reflect a bit old Norwegian folklore, and how rural people in earlier times reportedly spent observing trolls and wood nymphs and other fabulous creatures, probably under the influence of various hallucinogenic drugs. This in turn gave rise to a rich oral storytelling tradition consisting of a number of persistent myths, legends and folktales. On the one type of psychedelics, they may have encountered trolls, on the other nymph, in the third Nix, etcetera. Each of these creatures may have been manifestations of archetypes that are embedded in the collective subconscious psyche, a phenomenon that was described in detail by Carl Gustav Jung, and the British 1900 (tallsokkultisten.. I have no idea what this means, sorry? :c) Austin Osman Spare - otherwise a very fascinating figure; greater extent than the herostratisk famous Aleister Crowley - had an almost scientific, biological perspective; he described it as "atavistic nostalgia" and attributed the phenomenon of collective memories of our evolutionary history, possibly some kind of latent memory is enshrined in the genetic material, waiting to be activated by specific psychotropic substances - perhaps in the parts of the genome that are currently designated as "junk- DNA". Such philosophical, quasi-scientific speculation engenders However, nothing concrete, so I turn again our attention to the cup, lean backwards convenience in the cream yellow velur sofa and begins gently sip the steaming tea.
Leisurely casually holding Geir supervise me while we get a very interesting tour of Ludacris' house on "MTV Cribs" and I at a leisurely pace consume fluid. The first sip leaves a bitter, metallic aftertaste is long and makes it hard to get down, and the vapor is weak be whiff, but after just over a quarter, I still emptied the cup, and already know that the tongue starts to become numb and dry, as well as a generally "weird" feeling occurs, a sort of vague, indefinable feeling that something is not as it should in my otherwise harmonious universe. I get up without significant effort and goes into the bathroom to pee. Having done my defecate in a normal way, I go over to the sink, and as I look in the mirror I catch sight of something behind me - a sort of dark "aura" or shade, but three-dimensional, slowly materializing into a childhood buddy I have not seen in many years. He stands perfectly still, frozen like a statue.
The strange thing is that I consider him without a hint of fear, without any surprise, as if it would be natural that he suddenly appears behind me in my bathroom after all these years. My eyes burn and start to become red and dry. Then he opens his mouth slowly, and the overturning the cascades of insects that crawl down his body, a pale body if nudity I only now becoming aware of. While spiders and bugs - centipedes, cockroaches, centipedes and ants - flows in large quantities, his eyes begin to melt and drain out of the eye sockets. At the same time the hair falls from his head. At this point I turn toward him, only to discover that he has disappeared.
Confused, I turn to the mirror again, but when I look at the mirror melts and flows down the drain, like liquid mercury, like Robert Patrick in Terminator 2 corollary mine is gone and I staggers unsteadily out of the bathroom again. I am greeted by a strange sight - all the furniture is suddenly in the ceiling, and Geir are gone. He is now replaced by a whole host of acquaintances - my mother and father, one of my sisters, some uncles and aunts and the people I went to school with. And everybody sits upside down in the furniture that is glued to the roof. Disoriented, I lose balance and fall to the floor in exhaustion, where I will remain and cling to the wall-to-wall carpet, until I know that I'm being pulled upwards, almost sucked up into the ceiling and turned completely around, so that I lie and look down at the floor while I rotate like a slow-moving ceiling fans. So everything becomes black.
I wake up to the fact that some douse my face with cold liquid. I gasp for breath, the choking, squinting with eyes in the bright light and see that Geir standing over me with a pitcher of water. Perseverence he empties water into my mouth, while I vainly trying to swallow. Suddenly, the water is no longer water, but fire. Geir stands and timber floating flames down my face, and quickly roll myself away from my former comrade, whose face has now become distorted and transformed into a kind of demon-like creature malevolent supervision; embodied Evil. I'm sure he comes after me, so I staggered me quick on their feet and runs everything I powers away from the diabolical apparitions and the door, which as luck turns out to be open.
Outside the walls, I see no longer the heavily trafficked road I know from before, but a forest, a dark and dense spruce forest with all sorts of tropical birdsong and a strong scent of pine needles, rotten moss and damp grass. I tentatively put one foot front of the other and start walking along a foggy trail into the forest darkness. I seem to sense a clearing deep inside, and I feel a strong pull towards the clearing, toward a warmth that seems to radiate from there. Then it begins to emerge from the people behind the tree trunks. Almost all of the living roof earlier turns, as well as several other old acquaintances. They strolled leisurely towards me, which makes me hesitate and halt. But they soon turns out to be benign, and that the most natural thing in the world I begin to lead an ordinary conversation with my uncle, "Ove", which after a few moments of small talk, telling his wife and all his children are dead, which puts me in a very depressed state of mind, actually encourages me to fall in despair against the forest floor and put me in the fetal position and throw up. All the people gather around me and being stared down at me where I crumpled lies and spew while I scowl on them. Pointing begin to laugh at me, which makes me shrink myself together even more, and so I notice even that I actually begin to shrink in the literal sense.
I'm tiny and disappear in the forest floor while men who fight looms over me and try to stomp on the puny my body. Dazed and confused I get up, run away from the aggressive feet, and begin to orient myself between blades of grass that sway as redwoodgraner high above me. A giant mouse comes suddenly up from the grass, beeps loudly and rams with the muzzle in a bid to get wind of me. Horrified, I try to run away from the hairy, huge beast, but I can hear the overgrown rodent tramping behind me, it almost gallops, and after a short time it has caught up with me. It grabs hold of my sweater and swallow me in one gulp, fortunately without me feeling any pain, and the next moment I find myself inside the mouth its on a wet tongue where I try to cling firmly, but in vain, since I soon lose grip and slide down the slippery digestive tract that is fiery and filled with a disgusting putrid stench. So everything becomes dark.
Here I must have lost consciousness, for the next thing I remember is that I wake up in the hospital with blurred vision, severe headaches, a tongue that scorched sand paper, a snake with intravenous nutrition stabbed in the arm, and surrounded by a couple of nurses. Geir is also there, but now in normal human and emotional modes. Almost in tears he tells me I ran out into traffic and barely avoided being run over after he tried to give me water, I tried to smoke illusory cigarettes, I talked to people who were not present, I said to have been observed while I tried to steal several cars - all of which thankfully was locked - I fell and passed out and was about to drown in my own vomit, but he eventually found me at night, lying almost lifeless inside a dark alley with a concussion and bloody forehead smeared in my own vomit, and now I've slept for nearly two hours after he called an ambulance and got me admitted and pumped at the hospital.
So, what have we learned? What is morality? Yes, datura stramonium must be one of the hottest hallucinogenic drugs that exist, and undoubtedly the best thing I've tried. It takes you on an indescribably intense psychotropic trip in scopolamine and atropine delirious world; a world beyond any other known world.
It takes you on an indescribably intense psychotropic trip in scopolamine and atropine delirious world; a world beyond any sober human imagination; a world which in many ways may seem like a watchful nightmare more real than reality itself; a universe not under any circumstances leave without in any way - in a positive or negative sense - be changed for life, and the chances of death or permanent damage is so great that it is not only risky, but even limits it irresponsible to experiment with this plant at all.
To advise on dosing is impossible, since the amount of venom, that alkaloids scopolamine and atropine, may vary greatly from plant to plant, seed to seed and leaf to leaf. Different people are also receiving individual experiences when consuming plant, like all other drugs. The seeds can be eaten either whole or powdered and taken orally in liquid or solid form; leaves can be smoked or boiled down to a very potent extract. There is room for creativity in terms input methods, but recommended that it be exercised great care and thorough research in advance, and has also been joined by a sober and understanding trip sitting - preferably with own psychedelic experiences. Datura stramonium grows wild and in gardens throughout the country; due to the warmer climate has in recent years been quite widely used.
Moral Sermons I leave to others to take care of, so there is no hypocritical to point fingers from the edge. Should I try this again? Well, maybe in a smaller dosage, but I'm initially keen to test other psychedelics. Among other INOXIA datura, brugmansia, belladonna, bulmeurt, mandragora, amanita muscaria and ayahuasca / DMT.
In the days and weeks that followed my Trippen I heard constantly voices in your head, yes, I do it even continued at irregular intervals. Anguished voices fairs suppressed incantations in a foreign language if that still seem like an insoluble mystery to me. I also have frequent visual flashbacks and nightmares; every night I experience very vivid hell visions, visions that often include bats, birds and insects that transform into humanoid or demonic characters, which means that I wake up sweaty every morning. It must also be noted that the plant has a reputation for being able to trigger latent schizophrenia and other mental disorders in inexperienced users, and that many who take this drug ends up being lifelong schizophrenic patients forcibly hospitalized in various psychiatric institutions. Besides, my vision has become noticeably worse; I'm more myopic than I was before, which meant that I now have to wear contact lenses, and I do not know if this will pass in time. But it was certainly a hell of a trip, educational as well as frightening, and I am genuinely pleased to have met with the Magic Plant Spirits which are housed in the Devil's sacred weed, and consecrated me in some of the esoteric secrets of her. Hell yeah!
The end.Learn to stop and smell the roses once in a while. You'll never know what you might miss.