Let me start by saying that I know this post will be censored into oblivion and I will undoubtedly be banned from this forum, but I don’t give a shit. I’ve just emerged from the most hellish 5 hours of my existence, and I need to get these fucking demons out of my head.

Here’s the first part of my story if you give a shit to read it:
https://www.dmt-nexus.me...aspx?g=posts&t=67052

For my second and so-called “successful” experience, I did mostly the same things, except I used 5 mg. Syrian Rue seeds for the MAOI and I didn’t do the egg tek for tannin removal. Only hours later would I realize the peril of this fuck up. Other than that, it means that my research was thorough and my theories about preparation were correct, so FUCK YOU to all the condescending assholes who spoke to me as though I am a two-year-old child.

For “Round 2,” I consumed the 5 mg. seeds and an amount of “brew” equivalent to 10 grams ACRB powder, and I lay in bed in eager anticipation. I glanced at my alarm clock - 10:29 PM. “Oh! SNL is about to start.” That would be my last pleasant thought of the night.

I’ll skip the rest of the bullshit and get to what all the arrogant “psychonaut” asshole wannabes on this site want to read. “It was the most beautiful, transcendent experience of my life...”

Except it wasn’t. FUCK YOU, Terrence McKenna! You lying sack of shit! Sure, it starts that way - geometric shapes, rainbow colors, blah, blah, cliche', cliche'. It’s beautiful until I begin to feel the nausea. I don’t know if it’s because of the brew, or because I’m getting dizzy from all the flashing, dancing geometric shapes filling my vision.

I lean over the edge of the bed and try to vomit, but because I’ve had nothing to eat for 10 hours, I can only dry-heave. After a few moments of this, the nausea passes. I lay back in bed hoping the worst is over, but my nightmare is only beginning.

What I recall most clearly are the people, the so-called “helpful spirits.” There are hundreds, thousands of them. The walk past me in the opposite direction as though I am walking the wrong way on a one-way sidewalk. Their eyes are closed and they don’t speak to me, don’t acknowledge me. “Hello? Can you see me? Can you hear me? Why won’t you talk to me? You’re supposed to be here to help me. You’re supposed to welcome me.”

Then, it begins. As if in response, they all turn to me at once and start screaming. There are so many of them that I can’t make out what any of them are saying, but the sound is deafening. They aren’t touching me, not hitting me, but their words - the words, they burn like lashes against my flesh. The pain is like nothing that can be described in simple words. God, now I sound like McKenna preaching his “language barrier” bullshit.

Finally, the people go quiet and disappear like ghosts vanishing into the ether. What comes now is a flood of memories - childhood memories, school memories, family memories, painful memories. NO! They’re gone! They’re forgotten! They’re buried! But here they are again - the stepfather, the school bully, the girl who stood me up for prom. The high school dropout parents lecturing me to study hard and get good grades. Oh SHIT, a fucking “B” on my report card. Now I’m in trouble. Make it fucking STOP!

I begin to feel sick again, but the brew has worked its way through my stomach and into my intestines. I stumble into the bathroom feeling more drunk than I’ve ever felt in my life, and make it to the toilet just in time for my bowels to explode.

After several explosions, the nausea passes, and I collapse off the toilet onto the bathroom floor. Beside me, in the water closet, I see the litter box for my two feline companions - presently banished to the living room for the night, lest they interrupt this transcendent fucking experience. I speak to the turds in the bottom of the litter box, beseeching them, “Please let me die and be finished with this. Please let it end!”

I become aware of a dryness in my mouth like I’ve never experienced before. My tongue fills my mouth and feels like a thick terrycloth towel desperately wanting to absorb moisture. Only, there is none. No matter how much I try, I cannot muster a single drop of saliva.

A thought enters my head. My salvation! A bottle of glacially-harvested Artesian water presently perched upon the kitchen table. God, what kind of snob am I to buy that shit? I long for it, but the few steps walk from my current prostrate location to the kitchen feels like the distance from one edge of the universe to the other.

After what feels like an eternity, as I’ve done many times in the past after a night of binge drinking, I pick myself up off the bathroom floor and manage to stumble back into bed. After a while, it seems the worst part is over. My cognition slowly returns. I glance at the clock - 1:24 AM. I’ve been in Hell 4 hours less 5 minutes.

A while longer, and I feel noticeably better. I stumble out of the bedroom into the living area. My existence still feels surreal. I see my two furry friends, at least I think I see them. Is this real, or am I still in the Nexus? I greet them by name, and they come to me purring and doing figure 8’s around my ankles. Finally, some semblance of normalcy. Comfort.

Ah! My water. A take it and drink half he bottle in a single gulp. The giant terrycloth towel on my mouth is at least partially quenched.

I clamber to my makeshift computer room. I need to purge, to get the demons out of my head. If I don’t do it now, I’ll forget. But they won’t really be forgotten. They will just be buried - buried but always lurking just beneath the surface.

I begin to type when another wave of nausea hits me. SHIT! It’s still not over. The water has given my stomach something to expel. I make it to the tile surface of the hallway and retch. Hmm, I hope the stomach acid doesn’t fuck up the shiny finish on the tile. I retch again, and again, and again.

The cats are now glaring at me. I’m reminded of all the times I’ve gotten angry and yelled at them for eating their food too quickly and regurgitating it. “See? Now you know how it feels, you fucker!”

Finally, I begin to feel normal again. It’s 2:38 AM - 5 hours plus 9 minutes in Hell. I need to type. I need to purge. La Purga. This is it. Not the vomiting. This is La Purga.

Finally, I am finished. I feel as though a tremendous weight has been lifted. As though I’ve been to confession and been absolved of all my sins.

The events of the night are already a fading memory. Only now, does a final thought come to mind. Was this mind-shattering, reality-altering experience the death of my ego? Was it some sort of initiation or trial by fire that now allows me to enter the Nexus? I will never know. I promised the cat turds I would never do this again, and I will keep that promise.

Farewell.

I gonna quote myself from your other thread

U mean 5 grams syrian rue. I would be so happy if something like that happens to me
I tried 5.5 acacia and didn't get much 10 is gonna be my next try

Sounds like you didn't take everyone's advice and they were right.


Btw, you need to check your attitude because that's not how we operate: https://wiki.dmt-nexus.me/Attitude_Page

Sounds like a pretty good trip to me. You got exactally what you needed.

I don't think he cares. It sounds like he's not coming back to this site anyways.

OP sounds like he has a lot of negative energy just swirling around inside his soul. The trip was trying to tell him that, but it just made him angry. Go figure.

And he should have been ready for some gastro-intestinal distress.

I take you you ran out of this room and slammed the door to all of us condescending whatevers, but really man, what did you expect/want? Pretty colors, giggling and telling yourself how f###ed up the brew got you? Well it showed you how f###ed up you ARE... seems like it worked pretty well to me.

I think the lesson here is, the tool is as good as the carpenter. You can build a house with a hammer, or you can break a bunch of crap with it. It isn't a bad hammer.

This really is an illustration of how NOT to do things. I mean, really? Now he's going to run around telling everyone how horrible aya is, hopefully some of his victims will see through the bs

Well... there certainly seems to be some built up animosity that needed to be addressed. I bet you will come to find that the "arrogant 'psychonaut' asshole wannabes" are probably not so different from yourself .

All in good time, man. Take some time to consider some of the things that you saw/felt. I bet you will find something that was worth while during that experience. If i had to guess, i'd say that the experience made it clear that you have had a difficult past, and that there is a lot of resentment towards yourself and others that you might want to confront and forgive.

It may have seemed difficult, but there is some good stuff in there, too. Some lessons are later learned.

This child is crying, it drapes this place and everyone full with snotty snot.
It thought: I can do this sh*t those guys talk about.
Now it cries and its ego swanks the drama queen.
A soul in full panic because it looked in a mirror, for real.
Entering the gentleman's room there it whipped itself with its own dirt, a foul sight.

We can only feel much and true compassion for such,
it represents part of humanity, in need of love,
and we know that any tide can turn given a chance.
There is hope:

This sounds like base material for a great learning curve if you ask me...

Probably a bit overdone in dosage so it got rough.

Like AcaciaConfusedYah said...

But no harm done and experience gained, some fruits taste bitter but do you good.

This is the aftermath of what happens when you ignore people's advice on dosage, man. You wanted the trip so you got the trip. Why are you mad at the people of the Nexus? You have about four posts and each one was responded to kindly by a member. No one said, "hey look at this guy, everyone...he can't even brew Aya! Lets point and laugh and talk down to him." You came to the Nexus asking for advice and you received it. DMT (especially Aya) is a transformative experience and can be very overwhelming. Now you know.

DMT is not a joke.

DMT is not for everyone.

DMT will show you what you need to know, not what you want to know.

Always start low and build your way up when it comes to dosage. ALWAYS.

What were you looking for, anyway? Because I think you found it (the answer) based on your trip report.

Whether you ever come back or not, I wish you the best.

I read your report - and if your research were thorough, there would of been no surprises.
I am sure you have read dozens of times - respect the spice? What you did was the exact opposite.

Your dosage was massive and you seem to have little knowledge of 'the purge'. Having properly prepared for these two matters would of made a vast improvement to your trip.

You seem to also be surprised of repressed memories being brought up - you are delving into the deepest pits of your consciousness, this will bring up anything lurking down there.

It seems as if you were expecting an LSD or Shrooms type trip. This is not what DMT is about.

"so FUCK YOU to all the condescending assholes who spoke to me as though I am a two-year-old child."
I read through your other thread - I cannot find anyone being condescending or even to be misconstrued as condescending. I believe you maybe be looking for someone to point the finger at and blame for your lack of preparation resulting in an undesirable trip.

It can. But it also can give you the most f'd up trip of your life. Welcome to the club. That's why you always want to have Benzos at reach.

Ron_Jeremy, I have no idea what you were expecting - it sounds to me like you took a look in the proverbial mirror and didn't like what you saw; your post is full of psychedelic insight and yet these are the very things you are trying to reject. Psychedelics are not all pretty colours and geometric shapes; you should listen to to what your experience was trying to tell you, even if you don't like what you hear.

If I were you, instead of rejecting your experience because it was traumatic, I would try and reflect on it a great deal, because it appears to me that your experience was full of poignancy. You are privileged to of have received such a powerful and insightful experience - you might not have liked what you experienced, but take a deep breath and start learning from it.

Well first off, I'm glad you made it through.

Maybe try to assess the cause of this situation from a perspective other than "Terence McKenna & Ayahuasca fucked me!" (Which would indicate your ego is alive and well.)

Your first post stated that you were a newbie to psychedelics of all sorts, which is no better or worse place to be than any other human being. That being said, jumping to the grandaddy of all psychedelics (and not an easy one for many experienced travelers at that) for your first foray into psychedelics may have been too much too fast.

Handing a bottle of grain alcohol to someone who's never tried alcohol before might provide a horrible experience and just as horrible opinion of the substance. Giving the same person a glass or two of nice wine, may provide an opposite experience and opinion.

Perhaps you got what you needed/deserved.

Perhaps having the demeanor to tell a whole site full of folks that are trying to help you to "fuck off" because of YOUR poor judgement says it all?

I would give the OP time to integrate a little bit, and think on the experience (which they certainly will). The days after a powerful trip can be disorienting, and profound insights don't always come all at once, packaged in a neat bow.

They very may well be back in two weeks saying: "oh, now I get it!" You never know. Let's not rush to judgement on these things.

Blessings
~ND

was the original post intended to provide comedic relief? if so, well done, because I literally laughed out loud for at least ten minutes reading through this.


"I hope the stomach acid doesn’t fuck up the shiny finish on the tile"



the thought of some angry punk kid on some fucked up aya analogue brew shouting obscenities at terence mckenna and nexus members while simultaneously expressing concern over mommy's shiny new tiles.... fantastic.

You read my mind.