My Triumphent Return
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I decided beforehand not to dwell on my previous 4acoDMT trip (the one where I thought I was dying), though I was aware of it when I took the stuff. First off, I remember seeing a black and white sphere of sharp, wiry visuals – the sphere was pulsating in time to the music. It was a little sinister, as the sharp visuals would periodically rush towards me and recede, then repeat the action and getting up in my face (though I had my eyes closed). I tried to smooth out the visuals, and add some color to them, but it would only work for a second and then revert to its original monochrome color and aggressive shape, despite how hard I tried to concentrate. Eventually I just let it all do what it wanted to, remember that it’s best to just go with it and accept the scenes as they are and not to try and control the trip – so I just watched. Eventually the pulsating calmed down, as I found my attention had shifted to the music (we were listening to Dub Side of the Moon, by Easy Star All Stars). We were listening to ‘Time’ and I heard the clock chimes in the intro, which I used to think of as discordant but I heard the clocks individually panning from ear to ear, and I imagined being in a room with the clocks, and saw that they had been carefully arranged and timed so that their sounds were pleasant and I appreciated just how much effort had been put into just recording these clocks.
When the real instruments came in, the guitar and the occasional drums, I concentrated on the guitar and on just how pitch-perfect it was, and just how absolutely perfect and wonderful the whole album was! When the song kicked in properly, shit got real. The spikey sphere instantly exploded into millions of fragments and I saw the band playing their song in a yellow American school bus, driving over a rainbow in space (the bus was just like the one in the South Park intro). The scene changed and I saw the universe as a self-replicating Ouroboros, eating itself in self-perpetuation. I saw a man made of fragmented rainbow light vomiting up another rainbow man. You know, the usual.
Time passed and I chatted with the others for a bit before heading back under the blanket. The music had changed, and we were listening to 1200 Micrograms, but I hadn’t realised that someone had put this on. I thought it was the soundtrack to the new universe. I imagined Hoffman taking LSD and being shot into outer space without his physical body, instantly transcending. I thought of the millions of people who have had a psychedelic experience like mine, and imagined that by taking whatever they took, they had reserved a place in the a new life after death, where we would all live on forever in the fabric of the universe and have a massive rave, and 1200 Micrograms would be the soundtrack! I heard voices amongst the music, saying “You are the universe experiencing itself” – this isn’t in the song but it’s something josikins has said to me before. I opened my eyes and the room was there, but my field of vision was being squashed down from above, and the word “Egodeath”, written in pink bubble writing, covered my vision. I closed my eyes and saw what I will try to describe as best I can now:
I was travelling very fast along an endless plain, moving forwards. On the plain were symbols, words, and sometimes just pure meaning representing everything from the Big Bang onwards, to the creation of Earth, the dinosaurs, the beginnings of man, how we got to where we are now (though I can’t remember what it was), where we were going (sorry, don’t remember), and I carried on until the end of time (no, forgotten it). I kept thinking, rather knowing instinctively, that where I was had been visited by Hindu mystics and Buddhist monks for millennia; this was Nirvana, this sort of place took many years of mediation, training, and very hard work, and I had got here with a pill, sitting on the sofa, stroking a dog. I didn’t feel like I was cheating, because I think that the more people who can be ‘enlightened’, the better. And God knows the West needs it. Certainly, people will take these substances for a laugh, just to get fucked up, just for the novelty, but a significant number also get the message and treat them with the respect they deserve. I like to treat them like a sacrament.
When I was coming down I was thinking that josikins who had given me the pill had accidentally created it (like, manufactured it), and that she had accidentally stumbled upon a gateway to a new dimension, and that this substance was going to change the course of mankind (for the better). I was, afterwards, convinced that when I eventually came down I was either going to transcend, or was at least going to have some incredible wisdom for the rest of my life. I was so convinced that it took a lot longer than normal for me to get completely sober. I was mildly disappointed that I was just me again.