Hi. Been away for awhile. I heard the call and went home to hyperspace this morning. In the last year I have taken mushrooms once, truffles once, and on Sunday, I had my first LSD in 20 years. I was snowed in at a house sitting job with my favorite dog on the planet, in a house that radiates love and happiness. I felt comfortable, so I swallowed the Altoid down like an aspirin and proceeded to have a perfect day. My ipod was doing a psychic shuffle. Teasing me by playing songs in funny groupings. At one point an ambient piece by Brian Eno and a song by the easy listening vocal group The Free Design bracketed a totally crazy Mars Volta song which was beautifully hilarious. Then there was this tapestry hanging on the wall...
I forgot how much I love LSD. It was a perfect day in every way. Strangely, when I paused my shuffle to play with my modular synth and then went back to continue the shuffle, which was paused on a Squarepusher song (does Squarepusher mean acid dealer? Or is it a reference to audio gear?) my iPod rebooted as soon as reached out to press play. That's when I knew the shuffle was done. Technology teases me when I'm tripping, as you will see.

So, after the wonderful, but long day, the tryptamine call was resonating in my head. The last time I took spice in a sufficient dosage was during a snowstorm two years ago. Seeing the snow on the ground must have amplified the call. Last night, q2121 on MHRB. Woke at 4 a.m. to perfect white crystals. Emptied the snow globe, cleaned the kitchen and living room which is always part of my preparation, turned off my phone and sat down with my GVG. My wife was still asleep, since I woke up so early. It felt like the perfect time. Oh boy, was it ever!

Melted 23mg onto a scrubby, and after some breathing, I put the pipe to my mouth and inhaled the whole dose in one breath. I chose that dosage based on my love for the 23 Enigma (Burroughs/R.A. Wilson) and a post I remembered by Gibran2. I have broken through on 23mg before. My technique must have been rusty, because I didn't go as deep as I had before on that dosage. I was listening to music, which I never do with straight spice. Changa, yes. Changa entities have particularly enjoyed and even requested the album As Falls Wichita. So Falls Wichita Falls by Pat Metheny & Lyle Mays. A few years ago I was bemoaning the lack of music change/enhancement with spice, and the entities (little sparks who spoke in caveman English) said: "You not think? Listen this." Then they proceeded to take the song apart and reconstruct it in impossible and wonderful ways. The same thing happened this time, soon after I inhaled. This time it was disconcerting. Anxiety and worry flooded over me as piano notes shattered into frantic nails that pierced my limbs painfully, tearing my flesh and psychologically poking me in very unpleasant ways.

Then a voice spoke up. "Pleasure and pain. Worry and contentment. All the same." He was one of the little doctors who have probed my brain with long green fingers in the past, but he was on vacation. This was more of a friendly informal consult, than a hyperspace surgery. He spoke with a Spanish accent, and I could see him in my peripheral vision. A man, with dark hair and mustache, wearing mirrored sunglasses and a hawaiian shirt. "You don't have to feel the pain unless you want to." So I stopped feeling the pain. I stopped worrying and relaxed into the fractal machinery overlaying what looked like a postcard Florida sunrise. "I have real pain in my back and neck. Bulging discs from the car accident." I said. "I know" he sighed. "I can't even take a vacation. I will help."
At this point the tension and pain in my neck got more intense and then melted away. "That doctor you heard about is right. You have trauma from childhood that is causing a lot of your pain. You still need to see your doctors, but this should help." Then she arrived. She was part of him. A beautiful and tough, brash woman. She said: "You need more. 14mg. We will be waiting."

I was indeed coming down. I opened my eyes to a slightly warped living room, sat there for a minute and went to load 14mg. On my way downstairs I said to myself. "She was kind of rude."
"I can still hear you, stupid man." I heard, in a small distant voice. "We are always here, but you apes always forget. You are forgetting machines! Just as much as you are pattern recognition machines."
I pulled out my scale and heard the man say. "14" I began to load the dish, pouring a little from my vial. Exactly 14mg on the first try. I laughed. "Did you do that?" "Yes, now come back he/she said" impatiently.
I did. It was wonderful and beautiful, but not very deep. We talked. It was nice. There were pretty things to look at. The woman said: "Your friend Dawn will call today." I said: "Dawn says I'm a shaman. It's embarrassing. I'm not a shaman. Am I?" She said "YES! All are shaman sometimes." Her resounding yes seemed to trigger activity in my cats. They always flip out when I do spice. From behind my closed eyes, it sounded like they were doing gymnastics in the living room. I asked: "Even kitties?" She laughed: "Yes stupid! Kitties are BIG SHAMAN. How can you forget?" I was coming down. Her brash sexiness was making me slightly aroused. She said: "Why don't you go jerk off now?"
"I don't want to." (I sort of did)
"Sure you do. Go to your porno machine that can also be a calculator and tape recorder. You like looking at pussy."
"That's kind of an ugly word."
In her spanish accented English, she asked: "Do you prefer buhgyna? Vuhgyna." She tried again. "That's a stupid word. Pussy is a better word. Pussy is BIG SHAMAN! Pussy brings life. Pussy is the universe."
Seeing that I was uncomfortable, he pushed her away and said: "You still need to see your scientists, but your back should be a little better now." I said, out loud: "Thank you. I love you." I opened my eyes and laughed. Ready to face the day after that interesting exchange.
Then I remembered the other snow globe. I pulled it out of the freezer, to find yellowish crystals. I dried them and in the tiniest squeak of a voice, in the back of my mind, I heard the brash female say: "37mg of the yellow"
"Well, um, I don't know. I thought I was done and that's a deep breakthrough for me." I replied in my head.
At this point I would like to point out that although I do tend to talk to myself, I am not psychotic nor have I ever had an issue with hearing voices. I do indulge entities, whatever they are. It's fun and interesting. So, I said: "Okay, let's go"
I was feeling the afterglow but was pretty close to baseline, even though I was still talking to the entities/myself. Like I said, I indulge them.
I got my scale out. "Are you going to do your little trick again?" I asked the man. "Sure." he sighed. I could hear him roll his eyes. I started pouring onto the dish. One pour, 37mg, on the dot! Here's where it gets strange. I am not making this up or embellishing in any way. The numbers started jumping around as they sometimes do. It's a cheap scale. They went from 37 to 39 to 32 and then... They went to zero and quickly scrolled to 9.999, blinked back to 37, and the scale shut down.
Oh boy. That was impressive and weird, or just a shitty scale, but it felt like he was showing off. I knew I was in for quite a ride. I had no idea.

I had NO idea!
I HAD NO IDEA.
I've been to hyperspace before. Many times. I've had nested breakthroughs. I've time traveled. I've seen all of my possible lives branch off and play out. I've become the cosmos. I once found myself in the body of a Vietnamese fisherman for fucks sake!

I had no idea.

I sat down and got ready. Lit the torch and got the whole thing in one hit. Or enough, for sure. I was swallowed by impossible, purple, fractal matrices of turning flowers that meshed with each other, making the machinery of the universe. Then onto a slick mirrored surface, bright with rays of laughing light beings who caressed my brain and tickled my feet. Then I started to lose my body. My feet were up on the coffee table, and my butt was on the couch. My head, my knees and shins disappeared first. Then I was gone.
Terror. I heard my mother before her dementia put her in a nursing home, calling my name. "Are you okay?" My wife doing the same. My son. I was dying. I was being born. I was trying to put the lighter under the elastic strap in my Ax case while in full breakthrough. My wife and the nurse tried to still my frantic hands that HAD to complete this task. "He's dying" the nurse said. "It's okay honey." Said my wife. "What is he doing with his hands? Just relax sweetie. Oh my god. He's really dying." "He's coming, said the nurse. Keep pushing. Your son is almost here"
"Dad, what are you doing, are you okay? I think he smoked DMT." My mother calling my name with fear in her voice. My hands still fumbling with the strap. I'm dead, I'm alive. Everyone was there, because: I AM GOD! WE ARE ALL GOD!
Then, I glided along a purple chrome edge of an intergalactic spaceship the size of our solar system. Octarine glint of stars on engines, on a blade of grass on blanket in earth tones, soft shapes and folds. Impossibly fine tracery. Impossible colors. Thank you Thank you Thank you. I love you I love you I love you. There is no difference between life and death. There is no difference between me and you and everything else. Something is coming! It's coming, no matter how often people manage to forget what we are and push the knowledge away, keeping themselves preoccupied with fear. It's coming! I've seen it. Thank you. I love you! Holy SHIT! I love being me. I love being you. I love being everyone and everything and nothing at all.

Then, I said wow, a lot, after I opened my eyes. I had managed to get the lighter under the strap,AND zip up the case. Impressive.
I walked around the still sleeping house, occasionally laughing out loud, or putting my hand over my mouth and uttering: "Oh My God! I had no idea."
Now I understand religious ecstasy. I can see why people might dedicate their life to a religion. If they feel anything like what I felt... Holy shit. It's a shame they need to name that god and put that god in a box and surround it with rules. I guess I can see why. Maybe it's to keep people from really touching/becoming god, like I did.
Okay... I'm done.
I had no idea it could go that deep and I'm pretty sure I haven't even scratched the surface.
Thanks for reading this long post. I love you all. I AM you all. I love being you. I love...

Mister Niles,

That was one of the most incredible trip reports I have ever read! That's crazy how the entities were telling you how much spice (and what kind) to load up! My favorite part was this: "Go to your porno machine that can also be a calculator and tape recorder. You like looking at pussy!"

You should keep writing! Your style is very engaging and I would love to read more.

Hortwizard

..Yeah, that was a most amazing report ...man. The way you worded things and strung together sentences, mixed with alot of the ways in which you described things ..truly awesome and very well articulated my friend. Incedible. Speechless.

Definitely one of the best reports i've read in a long long time..



Yes indeed..

Wow what an experience!
The part about hearing your Dad say he thinks you smoked DMT -- what a mindfuck once you came out of it. the whole thing was a mindfuck. Its all a mindfuck.. But Isn't it funny how you come out of something like that feeling Love and Unity with the universe?

Its stuff like this that really makes you think about our purpose and how interconnected we all are. Thankyou for sharing, I enjoyed reading.

One of the greatest/scariest things I have learned about dmt and changa is that no matter how far you go, you can always go further.

That was an awesome read! Thank you for sharing!