I was the Universe's prophet
|Name||Dosage||Route of Administration|
|Ayahuasca||3g mimosa / 2g syrian rue||Oral - ingested in a banana smoothie (2 bananas, quarter pint of milk, one teaspoon of honey)|
I was nauseous for the start of the trip, and the closed-eye-visuals looked like the inside of my brain, but black. I purged and thought that I’d be ill for the rest of the trip, but Ayahuasca reassured me, said that this kind of thing happens sometimes, etc. I felt my temperature rise, and felt every pore in my body secrete sweat, and it was pretty interesting feeling my bodily functions so sensitively. I also caught glimpses of myself in the mirror (which I know you shouldn’t do for fear of bad vibes) and I looked like utter shit, but hey.
I went back into my bedroom, turned on a fan (it was hot), and sat on the bed. Instantly Ayahuasca made me sit up straighter, and my CEVs instantly sparked up and became mesmerising. From then on the trip was incredible. Purging made me think of a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis; I had got rid of the superfluous stuff filling my body, and now my mind could explore the wilderness freely. I began to look at my hands and started to contemplate evolution; humans have become the perfect vessel to explore inner and outer space. We have our ape heritage on display (body hair, etc) and should be proud of where we came from, but our minds have developed to a point that our imaginations fuel our progress. I thought that was cool.
My poster fell off the wall, so I put it back up, and I appreciated the complexity of the process that comes so easily; with my ape hands I dextrously handled the delicate paper, used enough strength to make it stick to the wall, had to take into account the force of gravity acting against it, and I was absent mindedly using trigonometry to get the angle aesthetically correct in relation to the wall and ceiling; maths, physics and kinetics are all being exercised just by doing something as mundane as putting up a poster. Sound was altered that day, and everything sounded like it had a machine-like phaser effect. The hum of my fan throbbed and changed pitch, so it made the noise seem more natural than it really was.
I was again looking at my hands, flexing my fingers, making fists, and marvelling at my new-found dexterity. My hands were sweating, but that was a good thing, like it was lubricant for a complex machine. I stretched my toes, wiggled them individually (which I can’t normally do), and imagined being a lion lounging in the sun, stretching every muscle. I could even flex muscles individually, so I could focus on one muscle in my thigh and flex it. I really enjoyed being in command of my body like that. When I was smoking a joint I was nimbly playing with it, rolling it between my fingers with confidence. I felt more primal in this state, as I’m not normally as confident in what I can do with my body.
My hair felt incredible; it felt super-clean and fuller than normal, flopping over my face playfully. I felt I understood hippies’ aversions to products and to cutting hair, because at moments like that it feels so good and natural.
I thought about the universe and started to form pseudo-religion ideas about it. I imagined it to be the creator of all things, as it is everything; space, time, and matter. In order for it to reproduce asexually it creates galaxies, solar systems, planets and life. Eventually some of that life will evolve intelligence, and some of that intelligence will evolve into pure thought, to such a point where they will be able to create universes. The penalty for the original universe’s reproduction is that it has to adhere to the linear march of time, marching onwards, because that’s the only way intelligence will evolve. Eventually time will kill the universe, as it kills all things. In the meantime, like every mother, its children (including us) will live on and reproduce, creating more universes. I felt as though I was being told all of this from the universe itself, as its own reward for this process is enjoying the diverse beauty of all of its creations; art, music, and the inhabitants of the planets themselves. Everything we are and what we make is a mark of evolutionary genius.
The phrase ‘we are the masters of our own creation’ kept repeating itself, but I can’t fully remember the explanation. I was predicting man’s own transcendence into pure thought, so maybe that was a reference to the universe we will one day create.
I felt a lot of love for my friends on my peak, so I sent a few texts asking how everyone is. I thought up a long thank you message for my mum to hear when she becomes pure thought after death. I thanked her for her selfless love, and for creating me. I thanked my dad for the same and for giving my passion, absolute passion, for music. For my girlfriend I was thankful for looking after me while I was going through physical and mental ecstasy, and for being there all the time.
Everything I pondered came back to evolution. Everything we that we are has its own, self-repeating catalyst; there was once only one language, spoken by one group of early humans, and now there are hundreds, having been thousands, and they can understand each other. This was a metaphor for mankind, for intelligence. There will be a point, in the future, when all of the universe’s intelligent beings will understand each other. I thought about politics, and saw it as an evolutionary process. I thought of right-wing politics, trying to stem the tide of progress; as the world becomes more liberal we are marching onwards to greater ages of civil rights and more liberties, ultimately send out more love and good vibes.
I went outside and looked at the sky, and I could see properly that it was a canvass of gas, of chemical processes. The clouds started to form a single, swirling visual, and it was like the end of the Adventure Time episode ‘All The Little People’, when Finn speaks to the mini-Finn and mini-Finn sees clouds forming a shape to speak to him. The cloud I saw was the universe’s face, which was complex, geometric visuals. I looked at the floor and the paving slabs turned into an Aztec rug, so I thought about the ‘primitive’ people who had access to these kinds of psychedelics, and felt that I understood why they didn’t have the technology the ‘West’ had when they were conquered; because they didn’t need it. To them they could access the realm of the divine, and what’s better than that?
In all, I fully appreciate being what I am. As a human I have an incredibly adaptable body, carrying a complex brain capable of world-changing and life-altering ideas. I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, as my thoughts were still running at full-speed, but I wasn’t tired when I went to work the next day feeling great. My life is affirmed, my place in life is sweet, and I’m fully content.