I was recently introduced to DMT by an old friend the amount he gave us (100mg) my girlfriend and I split evenly.
As I work nights, it was about 2am when we all moved to my bedroom. There were five of us; two who did not think they would experience DMT, my friend who played the role of shaman, and of course my partner and myself. Our shaman went first and his experience was reassuring to say the least – 15 minutes of a grin that I didn't think would get any bigger. It did. But nothing could truly prepare me for the experience I was about to dive into. It should be noted that I have had my fair share of psychedelic experience, more than a nineteen year old needs. From extreme and unabashed LSD use to recent experimentation with mushrooms. Even Nbome (25i), which I suppose scarred me to a point. But there's no need to go into much detail yet.
Originally I had chosen to go in on “Shpongle – Divine Moments of Truth” but as I took my seat in the beanbag the building intensity of the music sort of, unnerved me, to a point. What I went in on (Charlie Chaplin's final speech – The Great Dictator) ended up being more intense than I thought it would but, by the end of that night I'd decided, it was just what I needed to hear.
Our beanbag sat against a wall with windows stretching from end to end and lace curtains hanging down from above. From this perspective, I was surrounded by the warm expressions of close friends – this was very reassuring. Our Shaman packed my first hit into our water-pipe, a little marijuana in the bottom of the conepiece, 22mg of DMT, a little marijuana on top.
“Gently roast the weed and pull.” he said with heavy vowels, like a bear's growl.
Seemed simple enough at the time, so away I went, and immediately I was hit by it. This sort of warm vibration at the core of every individual part of me. Through all of me. A full and yet completely hollow sensation entered my chest and permeated further up my throat, building behind my eyes. In the meantime our Shaman had packed my next 26 mg of DMT. This was far easier to hit, though I don't remember the piece leaving my hands. Perhaps because I was experiencing the onset of a sensory overload to the most radical, perception altering journey that I'd ever encountered. The taste was nothing that I had ever experienced either – like the stepping place between time and space. I'd say it tasted like Auburn. If you can imagine that, you'll have no trouble following me from here on in.
This is where the account gets tricky as my sense of everything that I'd ever known went, quickly. That in itself is rather confusing. Then there was the fact that I was two-dimensional. Very flat indeed. On the wall in front of me, symbols began to appear in fractal revolutions of light. Elongated strokes of a psychedelic brush, tracing a fractal flower. Seven circles oscillating sixfold over a single point. A point, its seemed, emanating a great deal of psychedelic power.
The image exploded beyond the reach of my earthly vision. Seven circles sixfold suddenly sixteen, seventy. My mind's eye traced this intricate ballet of psychedelic fractals, seeing in all directions, this cacophony of light as it continued with its infinite expansion.
My eyes had pinned themselves open, perhaps because I simply wasn't prepared to completely give over to the experience, or perhaps because I genuinely though these visions were coming out of the wall. The hum within hit higher and higher frequencies. The immense dread of what might happen next came over me. But, before I had time to think about that, I was drawn again, to the center of the wall. A transcendentally beautiful female form of such divinity that I had to verify with myselfthrice that I truly was seeing something of such transcendent beauty. Still though, persistently, the form came into the realm of perception through this flower, this psychedelic gateway.
Like the pure passion of a woman, uninhibited. She was the mother protecting her child, the wife satiating revenge, the woman of the wild. Thundering through the halls of my mind she came, standing above my planet outside all space and time. Clad from toe to tip in vibrant ruby, like pure and tangible emotions burning with a fire that was passion in its truest form. Fleeting that moment was until quickly she passed beyond the reach of my gaze and yet, for the remainder of my experience, present in some way.
Immediately these immense giants drew out of the distance. Starting small, they drew closer. Three of them, each as tall as three planets and each as blue as The Third Planet's Sea. Bluer. The only difference between them were the crowns atop their enormous countenances. Obelisks the size of asteroids, carved in the shape of animals. A smiling owl, a crying serpent and a laughing wolf. Such simple forms a blessing in the psychedelic dreamscape of complex geometry that I found myself. But first glances are as deceptive as politicians and hypnotist's trances. As my friend the Shaman turned to me, so did they. The owl, the serpent and the laughing wolf. Their eyes followed me as each of their jaws eclispsed the sun with a gaping yaw.
“Close your eyes man.” The Shaman said.
From the obelisks' gaping jaws came some uncomprehendingly immense frequency. A sound with such an intense vibrato and glowing intensity that it consumed me in my entirety. Within me there are trillions of cells and every single one of them applauded this chemical virtuoso. Each of them vibrating at the speed of light at the cusp of the creeping crescendo. I remember feeling as though I could feel each and every individual movement of every cell and interfering micro-organism that I was composed of. Each pulse of blood and breath I took a delicate chemical symphony. I was aware of everything occurring within me all at once and suddenly I was beyond my corporeal form.
Quickly then I was taken, with flashes like a fragmented film reel I saw upon the back of my now closed lids, embossed there so vividly I almost reached out to touch hit. A monolithic wall of Aztec imagery, auburn dust falling from the cracked and crumbling stone. Upon it I saw men in chains fall to a two headed beast with a single, massive jaw. Virgins cast upon foreign kings, and light falling upon a Seer's mind as it sings.
Before I could grasp the images before me, there was another, then another, fragmented echoes of an eerie unknown, deeper and deeper into the past. Thrown beyond everything I had never thought to imagine into a sensation that I can only describe as incredibly remarkable. It was as though suddenly, I was the universe itself, I could feel each and every individual movement of every sun and planet, every cluster of stars, and the burning cold oblivion of the black holes . Every atom within me. Each clashing titan, every star and every moon in a delicate chemical symphony.
Plummeting back through the ink of my dreamscape and with a cacophony of torturous images fought not to be thrown into the past. Inches away, echoes from moments long forgotten reached out with leathery black hands, clawing at the fear within. I could not dwell near this looking glass, I could not face the person I'd been. I had run from all my sins but still, they dwell, subconscious echoes consuming me like the shadows chained deep within. To silence, the room still, I returned. My eyes cracked open with vicious alacrity.
“How are you feeling man?” The Shaman asked?
“Yeah, good man. I smiled.” Not wanting to plant seeds of paranoia in my wake. When I'm ready, I'll seek the symphony of the mind, when I'm ready, in time.