mrs. johnson wrote:

Four days ago I dabbled in my third (and final) hallucinogen. It comes in the form of seeds from a flower called Morning Glory. The seeds are tiny and contain LSA, which is a distant relative of LSD, and hallucinogenic. Now for those of you who have never tried hallucinogenic drugs, there is only one that will really show you complete and total visual transformation: salvia. It is legal and available online. It is NOT a recreational drug. Do NOT do it alone. Anyway, Morning Glory seeds are also legal and pretty cheap, so my friends and I said: why not? Ordered, delivered and split up.

At around 9pm we are sitting around a fire, in a backyard. Each man takes a dose of 10g, or 400 seeds. That is the heaviest dose recommended by something I read online on a drug website. The seeds at first don’t really taste that bad. But the more you eat, the more bitter they become. One of my buds didn’t even finish his and he’s the heaviest drug user of us all. All the experiences I had read about warned about nausea. I thought, “Ha! It’s worth the CRAZINESS!” Well three of us (including me) begin to experience nausea. For three hours. No good effects, nothing. Just severe nausea. I vomit, feel better, and become hungry. We take a trip to a local food distribution facility and buy two quarts of seasoned rice. We eat it all and become nauseous again. Fuck. After another thirty minutes, I start to feel a lot better. Euphoria comes over me. I become really relaxed. An hour into this magnificent peace, I realize that I have lost all ego and stopped caring about everybody else. I sat watching the flames as time passed extremely slowly for three hours, not caring about a fucking human being on the planet, including myself. Looking back, it seems that I also lost the ability to conceptualize a solid world view during those three hours. Even the thought of meta-analysis could not have come into my head during that time. I was a fully sentient being, but unable to analyze myself. This whacky experience showed me first hand how arbitrary most belief and categorization systems are.

Regardless, dawn arrived. We sleepily drive home, full of wonderful post-drug self examination. I got home, surrendered to my bed and closed my eyes. Here the hellish nightmare begins. Up until this point I forgot that they called this a “hallucinogenic” drug. My eyelids became theatres of the absurd. Scenes of fractal robots creating smaller versions of themselves and flowing ribbons of light assaulted my senses. At first, I enjoyed this. But sleepiness overtook that and paranoia set in. I had to go work the next day. What if I wasn’t off the drug? What if they found out? Unreasonable fears and sensory overload kept me up until 9 am. When I woke up the next day at 1 pm, I was informed that I didn’t have to go to work. When I stood up, I realized I still was stoned. The vision throbbed, my thoughts were twisted. This lasted until the following day (my friends had similar experiences, with one having a much worse of a time than I did). After tripping for 24 hours, I had finally come down. All this lesson cost me was a $100 handicapped parking zone ticket and a little slice of my sanity.

the mrs.