SWIM is encountering a recurring motif in DMT experiences an is unsure what to make of it.
His first experience was a very strange ayahuasca trip, which was very DMT-like and not at all Huasca-like, even though SWIM had never taken DMT before taking the huasca brew. SWIM brewed two doses as per the suggestion that a backup dose is on hand if he purges too quickly. However, T+2:00 after ingestion there had been no purge; there were consistent tryptamine alarms but the effects were otherwise minimal. SWIM then ingested his second dose. After another hour, there was a strong DMT-like head rush that grew in intensity over a period of a few minutes and then dissipated completely. There were no effects of any other kind, and no CEVs.
It is worth pointing out here that SWIM takes a daily dose of Piracetam, and also of Stablon, a French antidepressant with the reverse action of SSRIs (I.e. an SSRE). The theory behind Stablon is that long term adaptation to SSRIs results in the brain shutting down serotonin receptors to which the psyschedelic tryptamines bind, whereas long term adaptation to SSREs results in the brain activating new serotonin receptor sites, and thus potentiating all of the psychedelic tryptamines that are active on those sites.
Anyway, feeling no effects, SWIM was very disappointed, but a few minutes afterward something very strange happened. SWIM was leaning on his kitchen counter trying to figure out what went wrong with his huasca trip (at this time he is completely sober, as though he had taken nothing at all) and inadvertently started rubbing on his eyeballs. This seemed to plug him straight into the DMT space, which consisted of a slowly rotating tunnel with strange clockwork machinery projecting from its sides. Dark and cool colors predominated, and there was an overwhelming sense of malice and sinister presence. There was a slow push through the tunnel. Eventually the tunnel opened into a wide space, in which SWIM was looking on something he has come to call "the grid". The grid was a kind of flat membranous sheet that filled the entire visual field, and it was covered everywhere with strange glyphs and symbols that looked somehow occult. The experience was that of looking at an alien alphabet clearly replete with meaning, and yet having no idea whatsoever what any of it meant. SWIM was unable to move any further in this space, or to figure out the significance of the grid.
A few weeks afterwards, SWIM extracted DMT from a new batch of the same M. Hostilis bark he had used in his ayahuasca admixture and smoked about 30mg through a machine. As soon as SWIM lit up the machine and started inhaling, SWIM's dog, who had been sleeping on the couch upstairs, went violently apeshit, barking and howling and whining and running all over the house. When SWIM closed his eyes and entered the DMT space, that space consisted of two huge glyphs or sigils that seemed to be cast out of iron, rotating slowly around both axes in a red/orange background with an undefined light source. The sigils had the same design, and the design looked extremely familiar. There was a distinct presence accompanying the sigils and the presence was very powerful and not at all friendly. It seemed to be annoyed at SWIM messing with things that he wasn't ready for. It grabbed SWIMs face and started jerking him around. SWIM had had similar experience with mushrooms, and his MO then was to basically firmly tell the presence to piss off and leave him alone. When SWIM did this now, the scene dissolved into a yellow haze and the trip ended instantly after only a couple of minutes. As soon as it was over, SWIM's dog upstairs stopped barking.
After doing some homework, SWIM has come to realize that the occult-looking glyphs and sigils that he encounters in the DMT space are the glyphs of the Hermetic Qabalah, which are supposed to represent the signatures of various entities. Although SWIM had never had any interest in the occult or mysticism or any of that sort of stuff, the glyphs and sigils that present themselves to him in the DMT space are distinctively the glyphs and sigils of the qabalah. SWIM finds this profoundly weird and seeks advice from fellow travelers.