DOSE:

2.2 g

smoked

Salvia divinorum

(extract - 5x)

BODY WEIGHT:

149 lb

The time-marked material is what I wrote in a email to myself while coming down from Salvia. The material following that is what I wrote about the experience two days later. Before I took the Salvia I prepared the computer so I could write if I wished, but I consumed the Salvia on my bed a few meters away.

This was my most physically intense experience with Salvia. One of the last things I saw of this world was my pillow lighting on fire and me summoning all my physical calm to gracefully place the bong on the floor while extinguishing the flame before I lit the place on fire and died in there. That was one of my last thoughts before dissolving, and I couldn't remember why it was disturbing with fire and that got me paranoid. I think this was expounded in the type of wave the experience became.

There are a few misspellings (I want to keep them); there are also a few strange words (the only options). Those words were correct/suitable/accorded in Salvia realm just then. Unfortunately they had (still have for me somewhat) entirely different stone-block-depth-metallic-choir dimensions to them at that time.

The prose is unusual because of the Salvia, because of my writing style, and because I tried to communicate as accurately as possible and not use prepared phrases. If you can bear reading this (I'm honored if you do) you will see how the language becomes more clear, systematic. Utlimately it becomes obvious as I move back into fabricated, unthoughtful linguistic structures.

Dronze Zone played in the background at a low volume.

I smoked 2.2 grams of Salvia extract (5x) at 17:40 on the 28th of November. I was alone in my apartment. Candles, curtains closed, dark outside.



(17:59) salvia broekn work wave gathering spilled dkdrink ganglt dead into

speaking dreet meadl3 mank rangke ganke the weather not weatherd, bu size waved ghost world, almost they know, brain damaged? get dead neighbor, go in to the ones loved, the speak to you, range of wave mjuasönjölsdf mufd range music dark, wasty watery, speak, beels suck ,salvia around corner, still around coerner arms from under table writing, as i look writing what i wöothiu think i kthink speak, breathe soft iwht the havey music, mbells of chruch swallow rean, rean, one,
lj
ik' was gone for ever, for ever
why go armms? time rest, thing think, go, world, changed

(18:00-18:15) I was afraid to speak, afraid to be taken away, awfrain to be found, afraid not to find, afraid to sleep, whamperd away, weld, kalding, kalding, seeked, somper somper drine, drine, wreling, wreling, denou, denou.

goosebumps, jitter tingles, tangles, big this world, was that world not, damn speach doesn't speak, doesn't fit it. never, the knowing can't be fit! this knowing, whole creeped knowing, only shown, they'd bluntly hauntedly beat you with a wragget, a wracket and drown y ou in water and show the other life, as if the music were the water not playing into the drench realm of fire prevention, crawling, crying, shouting out, but hard, swinning,
, floating, seeking...was i looking for help from the consipators whaling, whaling about? did the neighbors here now, did they know how. feels as if i screamed too loud and was quiet to short. quiet, sweat, almost breath, here in darkness. i blew out the candle at some point, enflamed the pillow, fought to recognize, the people upstairs came to retrieve me, the real reality was much freakier, truer, more dissolving of me and making me a new one, one of them. but i see who i trust now, thought the lighter brain-killed, music made spook realm, after, but first sunshine blather and bodiless, sandwhiched sand-wave chime. just went to check the door. this splace is mine. trust is all i have for it, in this darkness. was it not mine, but another's. do they know i saw them, do they know i know? their silence and lack to acknowledge me, except the one, the other one when i was smoke, the between goer, but was it he that was supposed to fetch me (the other me) and yet didn't? they'd all know and it was the end of it, primal control, pushed to pukey limits of forging, undammed survival love drain spilled and struggle, crawling to get out and down and laughed not, but not sad, but desperate, demolished with a wrecking ball of choirs that i no know are synths. can things ever be normal again? these words are starting to seem more accurate, i'm being eaten by them, eaten away as a grasp back to reality and as a force back to reality. but over there, can i ever go over there again, dare i peak, fearsome, freaksome, soft destroyer, ljummen ptang, sickening break and mellow death blast, i tried to put out pillowcase on fire, i tried to put bong down. i crawled to get out, my shirts are off now, i was layed ont he floor by the door, crawling to get out, to get help, then on the bed, pushed in, warmed, but hiding from this world, and that, and hiding from the dark sleep and breathing and hands reaching round to square light shaft. i must pause and piss and see if i can ever be connect to this reality, to this world and feel secure in it with the against vortex, upstaris around knowers, caretakers. i have people that love me. i have people i trust. i must trust myself? i have no choice. that is this, that is always there. endowed with sapping, weightless, cauldron consciousness flaking, melted like fondu brain-flow.

(18:16) feeling normaler. my word part felt dissected.

(18:54) just a bit of soft feeling and lack of critical thought

(18:58) overwhelmed by word reality, here, but not. time for shower and then going out to meet some ladies



After this I sat in the dim light with the candles on and Drone Zone still going. My two t-shirts were thrown on the floor. Dirty bong water was also on the floor making a moat for an upright bong. My pillow-case had a hole singed in it. After the pillowcase caught on fire I had some vague impulse to get up and then hide in the bed (I think, but I didn't actually see this world). Then I crawled to the hall and layed myself on the floor and then went to lie in bed. The people upstairs are probably my neighbors, but it's a bit crude to reduce it to that.

During the peak I was lying in the bed, hiding in joy and fear. After my first hit there was another me in the room, brooding and walking back and forth. I took the second. I was sucked through the sheath of this world and drifted quickly past a paranoid fantasy. My best friends were experiments from another realm keeping me entertained and locked in this one. Then when I saw the fire I thought something had gone wrong with an experiment in the room and I had gotten brain damage. I was certain three liver-shaped non-material sections of my brain had been removed. One was the part of speech (whatever that is; it didn't correspond to any actual neurological structures).

That passed and then I drifted off to a universe that was one-dimensional in my field of vision and 2-dimensional in all my other senses. It was light out and felt olden or retro, like a memory of my childhood, but there were people (but not humans) that were supposed to come and get me, I knew them, but they didn't know I was in that realm. Another guy was standing by me was supposed to retrieve me. I didn't feel any fear for these people, but I felt fear that I was where I was. That anyone should know, as if the universe would collapse if anyone knew. After long years of this, and similar visions of how they'd come get me and we'd go to an area of being free, I had more visions. Fast and infinite, slow and dull and lagging.

Like many salvia experiences it was a combination of the oldest reptilian fear and cozy, negligent, opioidal, fascinated glee. Coming down I was disturbed, afraid to be back in this small realm, glad to be out of that new one, wanting both at once and neither would satisfy me. I decided to write in case I wasn't coming back. Arms came out from under the table and wrote as I dictated.

The material of the universe (what an incompetent word!) I visited was like: a substance of rolling and wavering expanses of congruous splices of mind, not ejaculated by spasmic forming, seeking, guiding, but emitted by deafness in a underwater-music-gel-non-material world. Music was time, in a universe with no time. Also part of the substance were extensive plays of understandings, time was fabric of universe with comprehension quales apparitioning. The universe was a memory's scream stretched in warpish travel.

Then I called my friend and talked to him. He said it snowed outside. I thought I was in the wrong world. I opened my curtains and there was snow covering the ground which 40 minutes before was only dark and wet.

Exp Year: 2005	ExpID: 48448
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Jan 22, 2008	Views: 6,393
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Salvia divinorum (44) : Difficult Experiences (5), Music Discussion (22), General (1), Alone (16)