DMT® Brand Mental Candy

Pure Fun! Nourishment Free!

Substances: DMT

When I sat down to use one of the public Macs in the user room this morning, I found a document containing the following interesting report on the desktop. I have no idea who the author is, but I am posting it unedited for general edification and amusement.

Ah, DMT, the holy grail of the serious drug fiend ... uh, I mean psychonaut. People rave about ketamine too, but that stuff's just skary: shooting up every day, raving about knowledge of the kosmos? No thanks. But those elusive orange crystals ... precious gems could hardly seem of greater worth, 'cause let's face it: nobody here wants to be caught dead smoking rocks.

But DMT ... yeah ... that's the shit. Smoke mothballs and see God ... or the elves anyway. So anyway, here I find myself with a few orange flakes and a glass vaporizer pipe. I know I have a lighter around here somewhere! Concentrate ... relax ... try to ignore what you're about to do to your brain and your reality. It's the only way, really ... it's pointless to talk about accepting something like this. Us mere mortals don't try to love and become one with the rocket ship when we're about to be suddenly flung into outer space ... you hang on and try to enjoy the ride. You just hope that God is your co-pilot, 'cause you're way too fucked up to navigate.

Relax ... relax ... now flick that bic. Inhale and try not to gag on the harsh, cloying, feculent aroma.

The buzzing starts almost immediately, before I can exhale. It resonates between a vibration in my body and an aural sensation until there seems to be no difference between the two. The flash from baseline consciousness to intense psychedelic state is similarly abrupt and quite impressive. The visuals manifest almost immediately and consist of abstract, rapidly morphing geometric shapes. The colors are very bright, but not completely saturated ... oranges and lime greens. At a finer level the visuals are fantastically pixellated and aligned along a well-defined horizontal and vertical axes. Are my eyes open or closed? It doesn't really seem to matter. My thoughts, however, are remarkably clear.

"So ... this is DMT. Cool. Too bad those visuals won't slow down a bit so I can appreciate them more. Hmm ... I still haven't exhaled. Better do that now. And breathe in ... and out ... and in ... and out ... deeply ... and while we're at it, let's try to deal with the phlegm your throat is producing in response to the crap you just coated your lungs with."

As I start to return, my face breaks out into a shit-eating grin. How utterly enjoyable. How utterly superficial. Candy for the mind. I discover my muscles have instinctively tensed up in response to the buzzing and the intense flash, so I relax them. The residuals visuals last a bit longer, but the trip ends very quickly.

Fascinating stuff, but not much of an entheogen, it seems to me, with this method of administration. I like the slow build of oral psychedelics, the plateau ... the feeling of slowly seeping into another reality, fixating on something ... seeing the glory of the universe reflected in a grain of sand. Trent Reznor said it well: "Just then a tiny little dot caught my eye. It was just about too small to see but I watched it waaaaay too long." DMT is loads of fun, just don't expect time to enjoy the scenery.

Created 8/14/2000 15:16:31
Modified 10/8/2000 16:05:15

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