In the bathroom...on psychedelics

ergonaut — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 21:48:25 GMT

It can be quite a nightmare when after a massive purge at the peak of a mushroom trip, to have the shitter get plugged and watch in horror as the water and shit level goes up and up and up seemingly with no end in sight! Just as it threatenes to cascade over the rim and down onto the carpet the churning, seething, boiling mess halts and slowly begins to recede. Then you flush the fucker again and this time you've done it! Shits & giggles and be thankful (hopefully) you are not at your house! Or let's say you are sitting there on the throne, watching the towels blowing in the imaginary wind, and the ceiling doing its Japanese wood-cut puzzle thing, and listening to the way the tiny room reverberates with each fart, gastrointestinal gurgle, or hissing vocalization...and after a half hour or so you get it together, somewhat, and decide that it's time to leave the bathroom and venture back out into the world. You get up, do your clothes up, and manage to get a few steps out the door before you realize that both of your legs are asleep and are quickly, and exponentially telling you that they had rather wished to remain that way! So you fall to the floor writhing in the agony of what normally would be described as the 'pins and needles,' however, in this case the description fails to entertain the true depths of sensation being experienced! Good fun!

My awakening

ergonaut — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 21:34:48 GMT

It was a cool fall afternoon as Paul, Robert, and I walked through the gates of Bear Creek Park in southwest Denver. We had walked down to the park as we had done so often to procure some pot for the approaching sunset. There were numerous cars lining the roadway beside the main field and as always there were many cars with lone occupants. As we would walk along the grass down the row of cars the occupants of those cars would quietly, slightly above a whisper, give inventory of what was available. "Snow?" One guy said. "Blonde Leb?" Said another. We were looking only for a couple of joints of brown Mexican so we'walked on down the hall,' so to speak and we came to a car and the dude inside smiled and said "Trips?" Well I had never tripped before and neither had Robert, but Paul had done so the summer before while in Austria. My interest had been peeked by Paul's musings so I slowed and approached the car window. The guy in the car showed me the Camel cigarette pack with about a two by three inch sheet of paper slipped in side the cellophane. On each perforated square was a blue line drawing of a dragon in flight. When he stated that they were three dollars a hit I nervously told him I would take three. I leaned in and we made the exchange. I walked quickly to catch up with the boys and we finished making out rounds of this open-air drug market. As we walked down the path towards the back of the park we began to take inventory of what all we had got. Paul had bought ten black beauties, Robert, a quarter gram of coke and a dime of seedy brown bud. And then there was me not quite sure what I was in possession of. The sunset was rather beautiful aided by the four or five joints we smoked. That sunset, however, paled in comparison to every sunset that has come since. Back at home, after dinner with my parents and my brother, I went up to my room to get high. I took the three hits of Blue Dragon and placed them on the desk in front of me. I took a few hits from my pipe and blew the smoke out the window. I settled down with a magnifying glass to have a closer look at the hits. I was excited to try them but wasn't sure about doing them with my family right downstairs. It didn't take long for me to talk myself into it by telling myself that if I got too high or conspicuous I would just say goodnight and retire for the evening. I picked up the tiny innocuous strip of three and placed them under my tongue. I turned off the light in my room and went downstairs to the family room to watch TV. Mum and Dad were in there watching an old movie with Humphrey Bogart and Fred Mac Murray called 'The Caine Mutiny.' I grabbed a blanket and snuggled down on the couch beside my mother. Twenty or thirty minutes or so went by and I was starting to get anxious that surely something must have been happening by now. I got up and went to the kitchen to get a Coke. My knees felt kind of tense and weak and I became aware that I really couldn't see myself actually drinking my drink. I never the less poured the soda and returned to my spot on the couch. By this point I was completely lost in regard to the movie. I was more taken by my strange reflection in the double paned window. I realised that this must be what I have been waiting for. I tried to watch the movie for a short eternity but it just looked too contrived. I was quickly beginning to wonder if perhaps I really should be 'getting off to bed!' I quickly said goodnight and made a b-line for the stairs. By the time I got to my room and closed the door behind me my heart was racing and I thought my brain was gonna explode! In a good way of course. I dragged the phone over to my bed and laid down and tried to dial Paul. No answer. I turned on the small portable TV that I had and tried to calm down. The acid was coming on in waves. Each wave felt more immersive than the one before. I found a show, picked most likely because of the colours of the background. I pulled the covers up under my chin and began to look around my room. On my walls were the usual posters of a teenaged boy. The familiar green Giza pyramid scene from The Dark Side of the Moon album, Cheryl Tiegs in the pink bikini, etc. Then I saw the ceiling! Oh my God! My everyday stippled ceiling swirled and whirled above me like a demonized Japanese woodcut puzzle. I must have watched that show go on for hours until I noticed the drapes. Let me tell you my friends the drapes were totally moving -flowing as if being blown by an imaginary breeze. Everything had three shadows from my three bulbed desk lamp. Three offset shadows that made it even more difficult to focus. I took the next couple of hours to quietly move around my room and really see what was there. I was looking with new eyes at things that were mundane in their normality and what I saw leaped out at me with amazing detail and newfound meaning. The wood grain on my desk deserved study, as did the carpet and the painted texture of the walls! I slowly opened my door and looked out into the hall -the house was completely dark. My God I thought what time is it? I crept down the hall to the bathroom and went inside, closed the door, and turned on the light. Bam! The brightness of the twenty or so light bulbs that line the top of the mirror screamed at me and I was sure they must have woken the whole house up. I took a few minutes to compose myself. What an amazing drug I had taken! I stood there in front of the mirror and looked at myself. I was shocked to see how big my pupils were. I swear I could see inside the whole volume of my eyeballs! Looking in the mirror at my face I could watch it changing into all manner of forms. I could convince myself I was looking at my brother or my father -or whoever I imagined I suppose -albeit a grotesque caricature of them. When I peed I was completely taken by the lyrical quality of the sounds made by my cascading torrent. When I was finished the bubbles in the bowl reflected a million prismatic colours and seemed to speak to me as each bubble, in turn, burst. When I flushed the toilet there was, of course, a rush of noise that had me scrambling, scurrying really, back to my hovel in fear of detection. I climbed back under the covers and tried to watch some more TV. I glanced at the clock it said 3:30. This little adventure had been going on for a little over eight hours! Good medicine indeed! I noticed that the movie 'Kelly's Heroes'was now winding up and watching the end of this old favourite put a smile on my face. Actually my cheeks were sore with fatigue, like I had been smiling all night. I suddenly had the urge to get a drink and was feeling like I was coming down a bit so I slowly made my way down the hall to the top of the stairs. Now I must tell you that our front living room was about twenty by twenty with a two storey vaulted ceiling and when I got to the end of the hall and it opened up into that great expanse I was caught by the size of it all. The sounds I made were echoed from the far corners and seemed to reach me all slightly out of phase. I was overcome by some vertigo and found myself holding onto the railing with it under my arm pit and sort of hand over handing it down to the ground floor. I moved quickly but softly to the kitchen and got a glass of orange juice pausing only long enough to enjoy the fine grain of the cupboard and the tile on the counter tops. As I stood there in the pale florescent light from the desk I heard a rather frightening sound -the door knob of my parents room turning! Their room was on the main floor right off the kitchen and the TV room where my journey had begun all those hours ago. I stood there unable to move as my dad entered the kitchen. He was still half asleep and wasn't aware of my presence. In his white JC Penny v-neck under shirt and his grey and white paisley boxer shorts, his hair tussled about and his arms up in front of his chest like feelers, he struck me as some kind of psychedelic gopher or groundhog coming out after a long winters nap. As I mused in this vision he noticed me standing of in the shadows at the other end of the room and he let out a startled little yelp. As if that was the funniest thing I had ever heard, I lightning quick put my hand over my mouth to stifle any laughter. I managed to apologise for startling him and high tailed it back up to safety. I got into bed and turned off the lights in case he decided to follow me up for an acceptable explanation of what I was up to. He didn't and I spent the next several hours laying there until sleep thankfully arrived. I did happen to catch the first of a lifetime of especially memorable sunrises that morning before drifting off to sleep. Ergonaut Fall 1980

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In the bathroom...on psychedelics

My awakening