Unbelievable. Strong. Forcing. Almost on the verge of too much. Alien so alien. A smell or a taste electrical and artificial. A room with jagged sharp edged colorful electric clear and close drawings, impossible sharp clear zig zags lots of zig zags. Like an angry montezuma. Kept verging on the very edge of nausea and unpleasant, seemed to be traveling along looking at neon colored but razor precise drawings. Pain pain pain. Me in the background saying be calm, be calm, relax, you'll be fine, let go let go. Alien alien alien impossible, a random chemical taking such order under a bright bright sky and sun. Aztec Aztec Aztec . Had to fight to stay calm, was always in the background through almost all of it. Started with a gathering drawing feeling of an infinite number of colored particles all rising rising rising to a sunlike point, gold and pink and yellow, yellow body, dangling languid thin pink tentacles, just one like the sun, breathing became metallic and flat, or exhort and one dimensional. Breathing like fading away, very strong, so close to unpleasant, but impossibly real and ordered. Jagged saw toothed Aztec one dimensional line designs on the wall, sounds in real faded almost away, some kind of fast tinny music started sounding towards end, looked at hand, looked small and weird and pale like an albino gila monster, lying in sand, really small and meaty and baggy and lumpy lumpy lumpy, room darkened though still lit, very close to feeling nauseous, I don't no what to say....so not human, like salvia but nothing like it, too much order everywhere, way more directed and pushed than salvia, overripe cantaloupe, after first hit, an ineffable, indescribable, sweet candy like smell or taste, then the strong pulling, first the yellow golden sky above, with pink lavender strings drawing to a point, then inside with the simple and too intricate line drawings, like being pulled into a neon Aztec pyramid disco , that faint crazy tinny, speeded up music . Tried to give in, scared overpowering, could feel myself fading away, thought my heart would stop, was breathing a million miles away, not getting air, me behind, saying relax, go with it, don't worry, it's ok, it'll stop in some minutes...I'm better now im ok. Was holding a stick of caapi vine...going to sit now and rest...I'm old and out of shape

sorry, used New gvg, just got my scale today, but weighed 50 mg calibration flake, scale read .038 g , weighed out .028 g of spice can't think to do that math right now...maybe that's 35 mg?

Spice was on top of a bed of mullein, don't recall any harsh plastic taste/ smell...

It would 36.84mg.
I liked your experience report, well if you can call it that. It's more like an abstract poem that's crazily detailed,, that has to be my favorite part, I wish to visit this place someday and I feel it will come very soon.

I can relate to your description . That distant voice in the backround telling your self you'll be o.k. stay calm stay calm . breath breath ...
the vividness and realness almost too much to handle . Definitely takes practice .

that calming voice is really important to maintaining through the storm of weirdness.
I remember using the analogy of being strapped to the radiator of a 18 wheel truck speeding down the highway . the power is indescribable

bravo to you. thats the zone

Thank you. Forgot to mention, tried to keep my eyes open until what I saw was too much, then closed them. Closed eyes was hard, but easier to handle then open; room was lit, but darkened, and thickened like a foggy yellow old lens, felt really small and compact and light, arms started growing golf ball sized lumps everywhere, then started becoming like tentacles weird and yellow. Very much like roller coaster ride, where it's fast and pressed, and there is no choice, and certain are kind of uncomfortable , and maybe you're not feeling that great possibly, and all the while there is that torrent of diagrammatic alien transmissions screeching under everything, it's so strong, like we're not good listeners and have to be yelled at....

You know, I've been thinking about the intense diagrammatic designs on the walls I saw; like colored sharp edged zig zaggy symbols, from a cryptological standpoint the design itself could have meaning, and the colors a whole different more specific or augmentory meaning, like sentences in paragraphs, or like the vowel sounds dots and dashes in Hebrew or Arabic. Each single symbol in the rapid horizontal line was composed of bright continuous segments of color, I saw dark blue and red in the lettering at least, like as if a "k" had four color segments of red, blue, yellow and gold, sentences in paragraphs of instructions, like the words adenine, guanine, cytosine, thymine in a DNA helical sentence. Redundant, but more specific words in a sentence in a paragraph, each level reinforcing and modifying meaning in the next level to contain and store in an uber efficient and economic way, core information and instructions and nuances keyed on codexes, or stored info in the receiving host.

Starting to feel really floaty again : ( never mind...

and then with that tinny, distant, wild music too it was like 5 senses sentences, piled together into meaning. Or maybe the "music" was the spoken version of the designs...? Talk about psychotic; I'm taking a break... : p

SWIM feels the same way in the sense that his experiences have been much more connected to a seemingly ancient beings, as opposed to aliens. Do you have any connection to Aztec culture irl?

No. Have travelled widely including south America, took anthro at university for Mayan culture, but ethnically am Basque and English (Irish and Scottish ). I'm familiar with beliefs in racial memory, collective unconscious, archetypes et al. These work well with the dmt hive mind. I'm glad that you are connecting with, or have an affinity to your heritage through dmt. That resonance would palliate the experience by operating as an organizing principle in accommodating the paradigmatic aspects of the headspace. Apologies, my stream of consciousness trip report is highly interpretative, a tendency which seems inversely proportional to decreasing proximity to the actual experience.

Actually, SWIM's ancient beings seemed heavily connected to eastern archetypes. He has dabbled in eastern philosophy but has not direct ethnic connection. Your notion of the interpretative report condescending the objective report is very interesting. Why do you think that happens?

Because the objective report is difficult to understand and retain? As a coping mechanism? Peoples tendency to be slaves to causality? The tendency to seek meaning, order, organization, stability, and rationality? An inability to remember an intense psychedelic experience, makes attempting to try and store the memory, having nothing but fragments and feelings and impressions, would the mind and imagination fill things in with psychologically relevant personal data to augment and retain and store the subjectively important experience by relating the objective to the subjective and the personal? Remember by relating the unknown to the known, to map out and integrate the novel on the topography of the mundane? Maybe people are wired for paradigms...

You sir, are an excellent writer/philosopher. It seems like attempt to seek cosmos out of chaos.

And you sir, are an ardent flatterer ; )

I love the way that was written. You describe it in single words used very effectively to describe what you were seeing/feeling during the experience, Nice read, thank you

This made me smile.

Congratulations on your Vaporgenie purchase. Welcome to true vaporization. DMT only tastes like burning plastic when you burn it.