So before I try most things I do my research. After laughing at video after video of people smoking salvia on youtube along with plenty more serious discussions on what it is and what its effects are, I made my attempts here or there during my modern psychedelic experimentation stage which began somewhere around 2009.
I had tried it a few times but always very carefully since I live alone and should I do something like crash through a window, fall, or unwittingly dive into a pile of kitchen knives, it would likely be weeks before anyone found me. It was always small puffs of weak stuff but enough to take me somewhere I knew wasn’t quite home.
Now last night I was feeling restless and like a miracle a friend of mine from work called late and asked if I wanted to hang out, and being in one of my insomniac moods I said hell yes and called her an angel for rescuing me from the solitary night.
I got to her apartment and we were talking and as inevitably does when I let my mouth run wild the topic turned to psychedelics. We smoked some weed and that’s always fun to share and talk with trustworthy people, but to my surprise and delight she said she also happened to have some salvia.
I nodded, trying not to reveal my enthusiasm for further altering my mental state so that I might leave that torturous sobriety far behind.
Now my salvia experiences so far have surely been strange and interesting, and even rather intense, but I can say with certainty that I had not yet really ever “broken through” on salvia.
I approached this with my rational mind turned up to 11; I was in full scientist mode as I tend to be when approaching a risky situation. The idea was that I would periodically recite to her my name, birthdate, where I was and what I was doing so as to measure how far I had gone and also give myself a reference to help me remember the experience once I was back down.
So I take a small hit, #1: Feeling woosy, light-headed, inebriated. The world feels stretched, the distant corners of her hallways that were unlit seemed to start reaching out for me. No sooner had I begun contemplating this the sensation began fading and I had to try again.
Hit #2: Bigger. The contents of the glass pipe glowed in a small ember. I held it longer, and more densely did I a cloud exhale. I began speaking in German, but didn’t know this until she told me afterward. Things got quite weird. The room stretched deeply, and that thing down the end of the hall became a cheshire cat smile made entirely of the mental energy that IS a cheshire cat, smiling.
I didn’t feel particularly threatened by it, mostly curious as it seemed to be of me, though I recall still holding my marbles together enough that I could place my mental walls up to protect myself, and send a psychic message its direction that though I recognize its presence, it doesn’t mean that I give it permission to come to close or generally fuck with me. About this time, the feeling faded again, and the dimensions of the architecture around me began to resemble what they were before.
My friend and I had a rather long talk about this as she took her turns in turn. I observed her laughing and squirming on the floor, muttering incomprehensibles. I was very concerned she was going to hurt herself so I spent a lot of time rearranging things like the coffee table, and anything with corners or sharp objects. She had more difficulty than I relating the experience, and it seemed to me she was definitely taking stronger hits.
So after things calmed down it was my turn again and I intended to get serious.
Hit #3: Loaded the pipe with fresh stuff, and drew on it like I pull a hit of weed. Heavy smoke. Held long. Saw a brief flash of myself reflected in an infinite mirror.
There were 5-10 seconds of thought that went like this: “Oh. Oh… yea, I think this is gonna be stronger. Confirmed. Darci. Cu… My name? Born… oh god this is wei… shiiii…. !^!#%!$#[email protected]
My first seconds were a measure of struggle to retain my faculties and report my findings as I explored, but that plan quickly went out the window as I fell through the floor and was enveloped in a twisting tesseract of multidimensional refracting mental liquid prisms.
I was simultaneously glass, water, mirror, and mercury, and none of these things could hold their shape. Overlaid upon all of this was a sense that I had walked through the mirror to a world of bizarre Salvador Dali-esque strangeness.
If you’ve ever seen that old Arnold Schwarzenegger movie with the liquid metal robot, this is the best analogy I can think of to describe what happened. Unlike all my previous salvia experiences which might have been strong but not personality/identity/mind dissolutions, this experience gripped me with a sensation that was a wholesale dismembering of my mental faculties. Less than a minute went by I’m sure, but I became lost in an alien dimension of fractured funhouse mirrors made of mercury which was the essence of the very mind I had until then witnessed the world with whole. First I was Darci, immediately after I was very drunk Darci, then I was confused over who Darci was, then I tried to tell Darci to calm down and not be afraid, this would not last, but the person I was telling this to separated like a blob of quicksilver flowing on the ground away from the other half of itself, and before I could finish the thought, that part of me which generated the though then became fragmented, and soon I was twisting through a Dr. Strange netherworld not of strange imagery, but of strange mind unable to collect itself, to remember what it was doing only moments before, or remember who it was.
I vaguely recall squirming in panic, reaching for anything to hold on to and trying to find those pieces of my memory which anchored me in the middle of my scientific research. But everything was gone in the most disorienting kind of way. It wasn’t a world bent and stretched and disassembled before me, it wasn't the sensation that the warping was happening to the world, but rather it was happening to the very mind that perceives it.
Everyone who experiences psychedelics wants to communicate to others what it was like, but as always, words fail. Here is my best attempt: Merge the essence of these pictures together in your mind, and try to understand that this is not what you witness, but what you become.
Yet, as obviously strange as everything was, there was still an enormous sense of familiarity about it all. I had been to similar places on shrooms, though the equivalent would be a 10 gram dose, something I can’t say I’ve ever done.
Whirlpools of mental mercury swirled, twisted, splished and splashed around the cognitive universe like a lost dog looking for someone to grab its leash. Something finally did, and it was the voice of my friend calling me back. The drops came back to the floor, and began to reassemble as the T-1000 after it freezes, shatters, melts, and then comes together again like in that movie. I began to remember how to think again.
Just a few minutes later I was merely stoned.
We talked until dawn. Went for a walk. Fell asleep on the couch. Woke again, called work, drove home, had some coffee, wrote this.
What a night. Whew...
Edited by darci, 28 June 2018 - 01:27 PM.