I am still on the substance. I can tell by the afterglow. But now is the best time to get this down.
I took a hit off my pipe, held in my breath, I knew this was gonna be a deep one. Perhaps because I've been smoking weed recently, felt the need to cough up some spittle after holding that dank spice smoke, and wanted to grab a kleenex for that purpose ... but I was already too far gone.
Then I was caught up in this complex and wonderful dance. There was a degree of ego-loss but not completely identity loss. I knew who I was, where I was, my overall situation.
All of my thoughts there were converted into THEIR language. I could not access the portion of my brain that thinks in English (the only language I speak) but it was perfectly clear what I meant by any concept I could think of or any concept they would relay. A few certain words, namely the word for "mucus" and "Kleenex™" were like visual objects in their world, and we would toss them back and forth in this elaborate beautiful dance. They would toss objects back and forth too, but what words? I can't recall. I'd like to say something trite like "love", but perhaps they can't be downloaded into English. I did however get a strong sense of love from them.
It was a timeless and beautiful dance that somehow folded all of reality into itself, like an ever collapsing origami constructed of language and facets of reality.
I knew what was going on, in some sense. I know who I was, where I was. I never did swallow my spittle: I waited until the dance was over so I could see the room again, and then safely deposited my mucus on a facial tissue. At this point I could remember the earthly names for such concepts.
I was rather excited to be "back", I wanted relay my experience to my friends and fellow Nexians. I felt like I understood something now that I could put into words.
So I sat on my couch and gathered my thoughts and realized, I was still tripping BALLS. Almost a bit too much to believe. I thought I might be trapped in some "netherworld" inside my DMT trip. I felt as if hours had gone by but in retrospect I ascribe that latter portion of the trip to an extremely dilated sense of time perception on the come-down. Or maybe not. I'm still a bit confused on that stage of the release.
TLDR: There is the first time I really felt like I was communicating to "them" in their own language, and it was a language of visual objects and beautiful dancing. We were tossing language around in circles like a game. You might think that the word "mucus" would put a bad twist to the experience, but it didn't matter at all. I knew I was OK. It was beautiful to the point of tears.
God bless us all who explore this sacred space.
Namaste,
Glossolalia
I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am large. I contain multitudes. — Walt Whitman