DOSE: T+ 0:00	45 mg	oral	AMT
T+ 0:00	50 mg	oral	Pharms - Quetiapine
T+ 24:00		smoked	Cannabis
T+ 24:00		smoked	Tobacco - Cigarettes
T+ 24:00	4 g	oral	Syrian Rue	(tea)
T+ 24:30	14 g	oral	Mimosa tenuiflora	(tea)
T+ 0:00	repeated	smoked	Cannabis
T+ 0:00	50 mg	oral	Hydroxyzine

BODY WEIGHT:

168 lb

I'm both a bit of a chemist and a chef-- so I couldn't resist toying around with the standard decoction despite this being my first time. My Aya analogue 'recipe' went as follows:

NOTE: This makes four mid-level doses.

56 g Mimosa hostilis (powder)
16 g Syrian rue (crushed seeds)
Distilled white vinegar
Metal coffee filter w/ micro perforations

The entire extraction process was performed in two sessions: once for the mimosa, and once for the rue. I extracted from the mimosa three times as normal, but only twice for the syrian rue (I didn't see the point after the second run; it was highly concentrated by that time). Each time I added approximately 2 liters of water (give or take a couple ounces) and two tablespoons of vinegar, which was reduced by 85%. I strained the plant material through the coffee filter and used it for the next extraction. After I had collected all the liquid, I reduced the prepared solution until I had about 16 oz of each. Final dosage: 4 oz MAOI extract, 4 oz DMT extract.

This entire process took me about 6-8 hours for each, but I could do it in a short amount of time. This being my first attempt, I took special care to ensure quality.

My final dosage would be the equivalent of 14 g Mimosa, 4 g Syrian Rue.

Prior to the trip: The day before, I ingested 45 mg aMT and 50 mg Seroquel IR. I had fasted for two days prior to the trip. My cannabis use is usually daily, but I hadn't smoked for about three days before.

Friday, (two days ago) I asked my friend Patch to sit for me during the trip. He agreed, and we decided to do it at my house. I have a huge yard with a big patch of forest and plenty of open space... plus my house is far out from the road or any town. Perfect.

The day before I purchased a small amount of serious DANK from a friend in San Diego. Every nugget was a soft sunburnt orange with flecks of light green. In other words, excellent bud. I also had in my possession about an 1/8 of schwag (mids).

My friend J decided he wanted to join in as well, so with the promise of top-quality smoke, we gathered the materials and convened at my place. Patch began rolling the schwag into joints, and I prepared my dosage. I was feeling pretty anxious and my stomach was already bracing itself.

I decided I'd be able to keep it down better if we smoked first, so J and I headed into the garage to light up. It was raining outside, and we leaned out the garage door while trails of smoke dissipated among the drops. I felt calmer.

Patch came out with the second joint, which we smoked after a cigarette. We went back in the house at about 4:00 PM. We gathered around my kitchen table and I poured 4 oz of the Syrian Rue drink into the Beatles' Abbey Road commemorative pub glass. Classy.

The taste was awful, but I managed to down it in about 4 or 5 gulps over the next 10 minutes. Patch stayed in the kitchen and J went to start up my Wii in the other room. He couldn't find the remotes, so I considered getting up...

And it was still possible. I felt nauseous, but I could hold it down. I got the two of them started on Mario Party 8 and returned to the kitchen. Neither Patch nor J are regular smokers like I am, so they were both considerably higher than me (though still totally functional-- not newbies).

I played the Wii for about 20 minutes and decided it was time to finish. I poured out 4 oz of the Mimosa drink and sat down at the table. My guts were churning in terror. Patch brought in the bucket, saying, 'I'm not trying to make it worse-- you might need this, though.'

This was worse. Much worse. I recall saying this to J halfway through the glass: 'This is literally like trying to drink hell itself.' The liquid tasted like rusty copper.

After downing two solid gulps, I sat for about five minutes. I vomited once into the bucket, waited some more, poured the bucket into the toilet, and drank the rest. About 10 minutes later, the second portion came up in two spurts. The retching continued, but my stomach was empty.

I sat in the kitchen, waiting to recover. Patch and J had a solid sightline to me, so I stayed put. About 20-30 minutes later, I told Patch it was starting. My body began to fill with resonating, undulating warmth.

I sat with my friends and watched them play table tennis on the Wii. By this time, the feeling became more intense. I began describing my sensations to J:

'This is incredible,' I said, flexing and gripping my hands, 'I just feel-- GOOD. I feel full. It feels perfect just to raise my arms.'

The rain had long since subsided, so I let Patch know I'd be in the yard, and I stepped out onto my patio. The trees were smiling at me. At the far end of my yard, a bush was yawning and swaying in the wind. I decided I should go see how it was doing, so I began slowly gliding across the yard. My feet tingled in the wet grass.

When I got there, I brushed a hand over its leaves and laughed. This was so perfect, I thought. Why would anyone want to do something else? Why did I ever think cocaine was worthwhile? Who even cares about 'drugs'? Where do I need to go to be me?

I turned around and my dog, a Siberian Husky, was strolling around the patio. A ring of sidewalk curves around the house in the back, and she strutted her way to the middle. I called out to her and she turned toward me.

'Come,' I said to her, 'Come here, pup.'

She sat on her hind legs and lowered her head. Piercing blue eyes struck me in the heart-place. I was being studied. She was putting a microscope over my soul.

I knew I should go to her. She didn't call me, but she wanted me to see something. My dog stayed frozen, unmoving. Her eyes were fixed on my spirit. I began to glide toward her, and the feeling rose inside my chest. My toes dangled nimbly above the ground.

I approached her cautiously. Her face was morphing, wild. She became a spirit before my very eyes. With great hesitation, I reached out to her.

Suddenly, her head jerked to the side and I saw a flash of BRIGHT red blood on her white fur. Is she hurt? How can this be?

She sneezed, pranced off, and left me dumbfounded. Then I saw her shiny red registration tags. Oh.

From that point on, I referred to my dog as 'Spirit of the Wolf,' because that was all I could see. She began following me around the house, sitting at my feet. I believe I spoke to her somehow.

Other highlights:

J's face becoming a gargoyle

A poster of John Lennon, which I carried around and intermittently asked for instructions (jokingly, but still very sincerely)

I informed Patch he should be careful when he looked at me.
'Why?' he asked.
'Because I can see you,' I replied.
'See us?' queried J.
'He means he can see your soul,' responded Patch casually.

My dark side grinned at me in an upstairs mirror. I also saw myself grow old in about 10 seconds.

I explained to the others how this was the same feeling that people get when they go to church, or worship. I was in a state of extreme spiritual sensitivity; meditation wasn't 'easier,' but it was natural. I could close my eyes, focus, and be there. Be. There.

I spent the rest of the night modifying the trip with the addition of cannabis. With a few hits from a bowl of dank, I could increase psychedelic activity-- I didn't even feel 'high.' The marijuana simply shook hands with the Aya, and the two marched happily through my soul.

At one point, I felt like my heart rate had increased. I popped about 50 mg hydroxyzine (ie, Vistaril) and it lowered to a comfortable rhythm about 15 minutes later.

The energy I picked up from J and Patch was incredible. I had never been more thankful to feed off of someone's positive energy. While I plan on immersing myself further into the spiritual nature of the trip, their presence helped me control and dictate my experience. Without J and Patch, it wouldn't have been the same.

Overall, I believe Ayahuasca and its analogues are not only worthwhile, but edifying. I still feel the glow even now.

Now I have to go feed the Spirit of the Wolf. Looking forward to next time.

Exp Year: 2010	ExpID: 87279
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 21
Published: Nov 2, 2021	Views: 769
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Huasca Combo (269), Syrian Rue (45), Mimosa tenuiflora (74) : Preparation / Recipes (30), Combinations (3), Small Group (2-9) (17)