DOSE:	20 g	oral	Mushrooms - P. cubensis	(fresh)
	2 joints/cigs	smoked	Cannabis	(plant material)

BODY WEIGHT:

140 lb

This was my first trip on mushrooms, I knew what could happen, I just wasn't prepared for it. I ate 20 g of fresh Psilocybe Cubensis, smoked two joints, no preparation was made for the experience.

What to say about an experience that forces me to break all of my sensual conceptions of the world? When I tried to write about it in the middle of my trip, all I could get out of my mind and my hands was the sentence 'flowers eating... and writing' and I'm not to sure that I will be able to write something about it now, even after the storm.

Flowers actually do have a life of their own. They eat their cookies in the middle of the night, hidden in a bush, take a sip out of their coffee mug, inhale deeply, adjust their bodies position and start taking punches at their typewriters. I saw this and thought 'What the fuck are they writing about?' I goddamn saw the whole thing happen. And that was just the beginning.

Laying there in my tent, with my girlfriend laying next to the side (she was exactly where I was – on a trip of her lifetime), I was observing the bushes that surrounded our tent. I was getting all funny and tried to roll a joint. It was hilarious, me not being able to find anything that I needed at all, the love of my life laughing at my face, me laughing at myself, still remotely trying not to look so goddamn stupid. Every piece that I found was a victory, opening the bag of skunk was a triumph and when I lit the joint up, it was as an orgasm. I made it and really felt proud about it. Now, I am beginning to suspect that the second joint was probably too much. After a healthy dose of Ecuadorian mushrooms (Psylocibe Cubensis) even one joint could be too much. The second joint of that Amsterdam skunk was way off the edge there, and we payed for it. We payed for it good.

Well, we didn't know that then, so we went back to bush observing. I never quite got the feedback my girlfriend was getting from those, so I'll just write about mine. Staying still, looking at the green leaves all faintly shimmering in those night-lights lit around our camp. The play of light began, everything was twirling, spreading light in all directions. Very interesting light spots formed and I spent some time just enjoying the view. My thoughts right there were going through pure bliss. Thinking about my girlfriend, imagining her being older, in maturity still retaining that beauty of hers. She was my autumn princess, and I will love her until I die. Beautiful.

About then I noticed the leaves of the bush all formed in a battle position, color on their face, spears in their hands, ready to spread the massacre. I wasn't scared at all, still knowing in the back of my mind, those were just leaves, they can't possibly hurt me. Sticking my head out a little bit, looking further into the dark, I saw two alligators in their proud pose, lifting their head and just enjoying the scenery. I thought of them as very nice. Suddenly something there moved and a real life rabbit squirmed in the dark. At least I am strongly convinced that it was a real rabbit, because his presence hit me with such a force, that I really believe that I could cry wild with joy right there, right then. It passed shortly after however. And I turned my head back to those bushes in front of me.

Here, I saw it, clearly. A bright green light shone out of those leaves and the flower was there, slightly obscured by them, doing it's thing. The question popped and I was squirming with the want to know what is going on in her mind that seems so important to put it down on paper. I told it to my princess and she just smiled. No doubt she saw things too, and just didn't seem pleased with my disturbance. I backed off, began to form my thoughts in a foreign language and stared out of the tent some more.

I clearly saw a man sitting on a bench, hidden, behind the bush, listening to what is going on in our tent. I felt deeply ashamed, I looked like a junkie, snickering at non-existent things, and told this to my girlfriend. She reassured me, we're just high, it's normal here in Amsterdam. I was pleased, and then so confident of my appearance, that I decided it was time to go to the bathroom. I should have just peed in the bush next to me, but I went to the bathroom on camping grounds.

It was 11pm, not so many people, but still not few enough. I began smiling, trying to surpress hard laughter, feeling as if floating through space towards my destination. I don't think anyone even bothered to throw me a look, but I felt all of their eyes directly on me, thinking, look at him, stoned out of his mind. I sped up my walk, my float and quickly locked myself into the bathroom, sighing out a breath of relief. The blue lights, which prevent junkies to find their veins in those bathrooms made me feel like an alien. I looked directly up at them, and they must have done something to my vision – from that point onward, all I saw was a different color. Peeing was normal, nothing special at that point down there. I went back as quickly and as silently as I could. Again I interupted on my girlfriend's blank stare and she smiled at me a little. I did not bother her. I positioned myself on the blanket and again, checked out what was going on outside.

This was the breaking point for me, I think. I saw a beautiful thing, a spider net, made of steel, very thin, spread across my field of vision. It reflected fluorescent colors – purple, green, orange, blue in a cold color-warm color exchange. I marvelled over the sight for over a minute, then turned my attention to what was behind the net again. Just grass, brush, all painted in blue, making miniature signposts out of them. I saw what those tangles were trying to say, I saw it all, in some extinct nature language, they were all trying to tell me something. I wish I could have understood the language. Alas, I was not able to, and began to think.

Why do I trust my senses so much, as they clearly seem to be inadequant to the tasks at hand. With my normal sight, I could not see those things in nature, the life in those leaves, the markings with which they sought my interest, trying to tell me something very, very important (what I don't know). Why can't we see that very so important message in the real world? We were made blind by what we deeply treasure – sight, sound, smell, touch and taste.

By then, my mind was getting distorted. I could not longer think the way I wanted to. Everything I saw was in sepia – you know, those brown, orange tones filter, already built in some cameras and mobiles nowadays. I pulled myself on my knees and hands, digging my palms into the sleeping bag, just staring at it for a moment. I started to feel all powerful, being able to mold the earth with my hands, just like I molded my sleeping bag. Grand Canyon was there to be remade by me. I could shape it anyway I wanted to, make a hole, make a mountain. I looked up at my girlfriend and try to tell her so. My mouth became full of water, saliva splashed my inner cheeks in gusts, I could not stutter out a word without drenching myself with water. I didn't speak.

I began to closely inspect my own hands, they were of a purplish tint, without knuckles, pores, hair or veins. Completely featureless. I began to wonder, were these my hands? They sure did not feel like my hands. They did not go precisely where I wanted them to go, they were wavering and quivering. They sure could not be my hands. But if those were not my hands, where were mine? Where was my nose? Was it gone? I touched it. It was so small, as were my mouth, my chin, all shrunken into a pea-size clump of skin, and I felt horrifyed. My eyes were starting to bulge in and out of their sockets, spilling blue color all over the place. I didn't even dare to look at my girlfriend, convinced that she would surely notice my face being all messed up. Where were my eyelids, my eyes felt so cold, so dry without them, and I couldn't close my eyes.

I turned to the candle, which was lighting our tent a little. It began to melt, not just the wax, even the box in which it stood, and spilled all over my rucksack, my clothes, my sleeping bag, it came to my knees, and I could feel the hot air that the burning wax extruded from itself. I didn't want to burn my knees and I quickly blew the candle out, and threw the box outside. We started to get cold and I motioned to close the tent opening. She agreed and I began the completely impossible task for me at that time. I told her, I'm not going to make it, and she began badgering me that she was cold and wanted it closed. I did my best, and not even knowing how, I managed to do that. I laid down. My love looked at me and asked me, whether only good things are still happening to me. I knew she went through the same shit as I have, but I didn't want her to feel as scared as I have felt, and braved her with words, that everything will be all right, nothing is out of the ordinary, we must go through all of it.

At first, I greeted the complete dark, since it didn't imply on anything my brain could distort, but my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I could see the shapes of things around me. I felt scared, and closed my eyes, hoping to achieve the same lack of thought this way. I made a mistake, even though visions are sometimes horrid, the thing that happened to me next was way out of my ''I'm still not afraid, it's just a drug, it will pass'' range. The same hallucinations my brain played on my sight were going on with my very own thoughts. I could see the beginning of my thought clearly, the more it progressed, the more tangled it became, the less sense it made. I could not think. Without my thinking, I am not a person, and I became a body with a dumb look on it's face, just wondering what the fuck is this now? Where am I? What am I doing here? And the scariest of them all. Who the fuck am I? I saw an amazingly high file cabinet, and began to dig through with utmost haste, trying to find myself. My thoughts. They were all gone, and I couldn't make them back out.

Everything became black, and red, and purple, and nightmarish green. Strange objects danced around me, as a deep headache set in my head. My body was out of control. My touch was gone, I was drenched in water, my fingers spilled across the tent, I tried to lift up my hands, only to find them very far away. I had to go to the bathroom, full well knowing I had no chance to do so, but my dick was very displeased at me, and started to blow hot air in my pants. I pannicked, thought that I had pissed myself there in that tent with my girlfriend, and the next moment forgot about it. The hot air was nice, it made me feel warm.

Then I got a weird feeling that I am a cartoon character, killed off in some dark stretch of road, holding it's head and wailing (as you know, cartoon characters rarely die for good), waiting for the van to come. For a quick moment, I completely understood I am the walrus lyrics and felt blessed about it. Next second, I was wondering why do I not throw up. It seemed like a really, really drunken state, only much, much worse. I could not think. My thoughts dancing through my brains, having a party and making me very psyched out because of it. It felt like being in a cheesy eighties movie scene, trying to depict the effect of a bad trip.

I wanted to go to sleep, then thought better of it. What if I forget to breathe in my sleep? Everything went dark and very, very wrong. I was just hoping that my girlfriend is in a better mood (she ate half the amount I ate), I didn't want something to be wrong with her. I imagined being this way forever. Totally wasted, totally gone. No sights, no sounds, no thougths, save for some that were definetly not mine, no touch, and completely unable to do anything about it. I focused on my breathing. That saved me. When my mind fell apart, I just breathed, and breathed some more. I kept myself alive, knowing it will pass. They wouldn't sell suicide kits in the stores of Amsterdam now, would they? I just had to bite my way through this. In a last vision, I saw a bright cross appear on the tent and in the middle, a god's eye looking at me. I didn't think much of it then, and I do not think of it much now, it was simply my minds own concoction, trying to bring that last scare out of me. It didn't work, and I snapped out, looked at my girlfriend and saw her smile.

Are you ok, she said. I said 'finally', even though I still felt a little woozy. I picked up her cellphone, turned it on, and marvelled at the screen. Finaly, I uttered the words – it's all normal. Thank you, god. We both got our thoughts and senses back. After we went to the bathroom, I could still feel the surroundings shaking a little bit, as the dimensions in my head were being re-established. But I could think and my hands were yet again my own, and I felt grateful for it. In the morning, everything was as it was supposed to be, and the joy of seeing sun again was enormous. My girlfriend felt exactly the same, and when we discussed our trip, we have come to the following conclusion.

I did not regret eating them, and having an experience like this (even if at times I felt scared about my own sanity), it was the thing I wanted to get. Hallucinations. If I would know what would happen, I would not take them. Thus, I will never eat a hallucinogenic mushroom again.

Exp Year: 2005	ExpID: 46153
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Sep 7, 2007	Views: 7,982
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Mushrooms - P. cubensis (66) : First Times (2), Difficult Experiences (5), Nature / Outdoors (23), Entities / Beings (37), Relationships (44), Bad Trips (6), Small Group (2-9) (17)