I just awoke from a dream, it went as follows:
There I was awake in a lucid dream on the stove simmering chunks of pedro again.
Upon reduction, a little splash of decanted ayahuasca was added to the ceramic pot.
On medium heat, I was swirling the liquid around, down, down, until it was thick, syrupy, and audible.
In my dream, I went back to bed for a whopping two days, only to return to the place where I had left my pot two days before.
Something unusual had occurred. I began to scrape with a razor blade and was showered with white to off-white yellow/tan crystal powder. I collected over 5g of this and decided to stop, because even if there was more resiny stuff in there, I felt extremely content with this massive yield that somehow managed to rest on TOP of the resin.
I thought to myself, you've surely done it this time. This couldn't possibly all be alkaloids. No way. So I ate a couple grams and-
Found myself sitting in a theatre about to see Pandit Shivkumar Sharma and Zakir Hussein. The lights dimmed. The Pandit spoke of sound being God, and how he wanted the people of the audience not only to hear but to feel and see his music from the minds eye. That's where he plays from, he says. So he began his first raga solo and everyone in the audience disappeared. The stage disappeared. The only thing I could see was Shivkumar glowing in a flowing red void. I wept heavy tears which only added to the shimmering hallucinations I was experiencing. For a minute I wondered if I was going to explode- If I was going to have to be taken out of the theatre on a stretcher for violently erupting in some form of orgasmic laughter. I felt like he was igniting the wick to the bomb of my heart, and mind, as if I was a glass overflowing onto my lap, but succumbing to the black hole of the solar plexus, recycling.
I, of course, became the music in every possible synesthetic way. I also became the audience. The entity of the masters playing, displaying, and the entity of the observers, coming together in an infinite mirrored arena. For the entire duration of their concert I mostly only saw them in this reddish void slightly melted, slightly clay, slightly hyperspacial and completely beautiful. I've spent many days in my life tripping and listening to these guys and to see them, aged, just right over there- felt like an incredibly healing experience. Their music, I traveled.
The "Chills" or electricity crawling up my spine, curling at the top of my head as if I was a tesla coil, probably tenticlating it's way zapping everyone around me for all I electromagnetically know. Holding my girlfriends hand. Falling. Falling in love with everything. You could see their souls, so eternally young, underneath these space ships that accumulate the price. All these frequencies and patterns reflecting oh so much and everything we are universally and then some. The masters flow minimally, traditionally, even in the wake of an electronic storm.
//End Dream Sequence//
If you would like to know more about the theoretical water extraction of San Pedro, click here:
https://wiki.dmt-nexus.m...7s_cacti_preparation_tek