The God Drug

Yeah, fucking with your perception of time is rather like dreaming just before you wake up.

Agree with all the above precautions. Does orange juice pull you down, like it does for acid?

Getting to that state without chemical assistance, would, of course, be ideal.

Apparently bad trips are really uncommon, but the Vice description of the guy who was pinned down while being anally raped by two crocodiles terrifies me.

Please, please let us know how it is if you try it.

Gary Sax wrote: the guy who was pinned down while being anally raped by two crocodiles terrifies me.

Now that's a sentence you just don't see every day. I'm going to have to read this vice article when I get a chance. I've mainly read scientific journals and listened to podcasts but my research is slowly expanding as I get more curious.

So I've posted this question a few different places and this is the best response I've had yet... before I copy paste it I will say that I was asked to leave the persons name out of it and told I could copy paste if I wanted to.

Let's say maybe I know someone who happens to identify with various nature and rhythm based religions and decided to learn a little more about shamanism on a trip to South America.

DMT there is available as the main active ingredient in a natural steamed drink called Yage. Some places call it Ayahusca, but I believe they're the same thing in different dialects.

So let's take a purely fictionalized journey that happens to take place several years ago, coincidentally around the time I went to Mexico.

So you get to the place, of course it's a complex of huts and shacks in the woods, but not far off the beaten track. There's a few English speakers to help. Money exchanges hands. You are taken to a spartan little room that may actually have been made of clay.

For 30 minutes or so, you are told to relax, get to a gentle meditative state, which you are used to due to other spiritual beliefs, and wait while the concoction is brought to steam. The shaman is not some old wizened man with face paint, as you hoped, but a gentle middle aged man in a button down shirt who reminds you vaguely of Steve Irwin.

You get a cloak. It is clearly animal bits of some sort. Furs and patchwork. It is draped over your head, and you look like a South American Indian Jedi.

The instruction comes. Drape the cloak over the bowl with the concoction on the little fire stove in the middle of the floor. Close your eyes and inhale deeply.

The roaring buzz of reality amplified shows up fairly quickly. Hands on your shoulders move you to a seated position. It is loud, dear lord, it is terrifyingly loud.

Her name is Arial. She is not human. She appears some 100 yards away walking towards you. The room is maybe 15 feet across, but she is in the room, 100s of feet away. Brownish, reddish, small, and seen somehow through the wall, as if it were a window where she was, but the wall is still solid everywhere else.

The roaring sound is deafening and hot. The sound is clearly hot. Arial gets closer, or perhaps larger, as perspective seems not to apply to her. How do you know her name? She has never spoken.

She is constructed of hundreds of shifting triangles, like a low polygon computer wire frame, but she is clearly organic. Somewhat squirrel like in the face. She reaches to touch you and you take her hand.

You spend several years with her. You have memories of being in the diner with her, when she cut her hand with a butter knife to display the fact that she is made of a solid clay like material that does not bleed. You have memories of her playing pool with you - maybe not memories, maybe it's now, and she cannot miss a shot because her understanding of geometry and physics is dimensions beyond our own. Its a montage of events that have either happened, or are happening. Maybe they will happen. Waiting for the bus makes her impatient - she has no understanding of why you are tied to that spot in time and cannot step from it.

She changes shape to someone else. Small, but more human. Maybe she was always this. She explains that this form for her is a puppet, a shadow, and she can change it at will. She explains time is a flexible medium and time dilation is controllable. She explains that while we feel free will and make our choices, that at each infinitely small juncture, we are merely gears and the choice that gets made is the one that absolutely must be the one we made.

After 3 or 4 years, she explains she really has to go. You ask to see her. The real her. The otherdimensional self.

The sky is gone and you are cowering before an infinitely large organic clockwork structure that dwarfs the solar system. Almost eye-like due to having a central rotation place, it is a dark brown mechanical organism of rotating parts and cylinders larger than the moon. A giant brown screaming wailing non blinking everything staring at you. The sounds tears through everything and you are alone on a plane staring at what can be nothing less than the actual clockwork of the universe.

Cowering in a fetal position, Arial puts her hand on your shoulder. You feel her apology. She apologizes for letting you know the truth.

Probably less than an hour after it started, they give you some water and let you go after making sure you can stand up straight.

Vice is a definite proprietor of nonsense that someone pretending to be a rockstar said. I would take anything printed on its pages or website with a fist full of salt.

If it's anything like shrooms plus 1.5g of vitamin C, it will be an epic journey of realization. Without naming names of the source of this sage wisom, allow me to pass along the five commandments of hallucinogens:
1. Thou Shalt Not Look In Mirrors. You may see yourself through the veil of a lifetime's worth of predispositions and not like what you see.
2. Thou Shalt Cage All Animals. If you've ever seen someone fighting a panther that was actually a 20 pound lab-terrier mix, you'll see the wisdom here.
3. Thou Shalt Not Have Sex. It's just too freaky when you look down and your cock tells you to stay away from the giant clam monster, moving its lips and all.
4. Thou Shalt Not Keep Any More Around Than You Plan To Take. This is obvious. If you took 5 hits of white blotter and have the big idea that taking "the rest" (read: half sheet) is a good idea, you will end up in a psych ward or morgue.
5. Thou Shalt Avoid The Public, Especially In Enclosed Or Congested Areas: This is the surest way to freak the fuck out and start hitting people with lampshades. No parties. No big crowds. Think more things like walking a neighborhood during Christmas and enjoying the lights.

Just saying.

www.erowid.org/experiences/?hc_location=ufi

A friend linked this to me when I talked about DMT with them.

Joe Rogan talks about DMT so much he has me wanting to try it. Same with THC. I guess I'm a bit of a drug noob and my job DEFINITELY tests for this stuff, so it'll have to wait for retirement.

I no longer dabble in entheogenics. But as an introspective type, I have a lot of experience with them and am not ashamed to admit it. From manufacture through extraction of acacia bark, to growing cubensis on brown rice cakes through the popular PFtek.

You're going into it with the right intentions anyways. Not "Wooo let's get high, fuckers!". Those types of folk shouldn't touch this. For the right reasons, its a tool, like any succesful drug.

I'm not sure if the site is still.around, but in the mid nineties, a site called The Lycaeum was a very good entheogenic resource. Terrence McKenna was an occasional contributor.

We used to call DMT, "business mans trip" since you could literally dose as you left for lunch and be sober by the time lunch hour was over. Though with most mind altering things, your perspective drastically changes. You're presented with a choice once sober. Either keep doing the same bullshit you've been doing, or change. The usual outcome of introspection, whether with the benefit of drugs, or sober.

Just make sure you have a baby sitter. Never trip without one, no matter how short.
Leary's mention of "set and setting" should also not be ignored. The environment of your mind and physical surroundings are important to glean positive trip and outcome. Very important.
Give yourself time afterwards to absorb what your mind has just been through. Dealing with drama/negativity in that calm state is nearly as bad as having a nightmarish trip.
Don't bother being Mr. Wizard with the chemistry by dabbling in SSRI's to enhance the experience with syrian rue extract or what seems to be in vogue today. The interactions between SSRIs and MAOIs can be threatening to your health simply by the choice to eat an overly ripe banana or fishy fish for example.

Some legal alternatives which have stood the test of time through investigations by scientists (Wasson, Hoffmann, etc.) like salvia divinorum might not be a bad thing to investigate either if your research into dmt turns you away.

Disclaimer, I do not advocate drug use to "get high". But I do advocate introspection. A lost art nowadays with the huge egos are.western society cultivates. If drugs can help facilitate this, then so be it.

There is a segment at the beginning of the very underrated movie "Enter the void" that gives the best impression a sober mind can fathom of what the cathedral of the mind looks like, that I have ever seen. All that is missing is the urgent, even forceful, inner monologue and the warm 'organic' music in your ears, in my experience.

When I can't shoplift mouthwash, I prefer to huff paint and hairspray. When I can't find those, I sip Robitussin or purple drank. It really opens the mind. The street corner shaman says that I'm making great spiritual progress--my third eye is wide open.

One time I drank not one but two of these quad-shot espresso drinks at this coffee shop. I sat there for a while with my heart racing, got up, peed, and sat back down thinking "man, shit is fucked up in the world". Does this qualify for a psychonautical experience?

Paging Philip K. Dick.

Michael Barnes wrote: One time I drank not one but two of these quad-shot espresso drinks at this coffee shop. I sat there for a while with my heart racing, got up, peed, and sat back down thinking "man, shit is fucked up in the world". Does this qualify for a psychonautical experience?

Are you sure you got up before you peed? If yes, then no it wasn't.

Jon Jacob, a lot has been said about the mental effect. What is the physical effect? How mobile will you be? Will your friend stop you if you try to leave?