Sunday, February 11, 2018

DMT, the Somnambulist

The following notes were taken during an experience with several years old DMT. The substance still maintained a 'powdered Parmesan cheese with a hint of mushroom' smell, but the effect felt much shorter lived due to the presumed number of half-lives that have passed.

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DMT is related to and like dreaming - even once the sojourn is over, you continue to live there, meditatively and observe from afar.

The trip is the coming on and coming back, like traveling. What people call a "trip" is really a short stay somewhere else, a sojourn.

It feels logical, acute. You can see science up close, or the intimations of it, like distant fireworks in the electrical circuits of a bulb. It's not sexual in any way. Those organs become numb and shrink and you become ambiguous.

The body doesn't realize discomfort; the body becomes paralyzed in whatever position is last.

The eyes in drug-drooped state must be manually forced open to take in maximal light! Our organic cameras. Leave the mouth open, but swallow every few seconds. The body forgets to take in enough oxygen and swallow collecting saliva. The body remembers before the moment you would choke, but it's good to take the initiative. An open mouth will take in more oxygen than the nose.

The edges of things becomes more distinct. You realize how much blank space is between things, as if our sober eyes tries to stitch everything together into a single patchwork. You feel like you can see the subtle differences in a clay pot, as if seeing where a finger or palm may have pressed its creation.

You are the stretched ecstasy of tiredness.

Popcorn-textured ceilings are the best way to tell when the active experience is over. In the beginning, it appears to be organic and alive, like the filaments of jellyfish or coral, or the stretching of plant roots. Patterns may appear. In the end, it slowly swirls and churns like clouds on a windy or stormy day.
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