By Nobleman Nash Hollowhill – January 4, 2010
The contents of this experience cannot possibly be expressed in prose. Here is a somewhat accurate portrayal of the trip in poetry.
That Which is and Always Was
Again and again
The same feeling
Opening, Brightening, Widening, Lengthening
Stretching, my hands…
My branches, I am infinite
There is no me
There is only now
But I am now and now is me
The Hands of Time.
Albanixyuwaryunay… Albanixyuwaryunay… Albanixyuwaryunay…
What? I heard it so clearly…
My time has come.
I am being asked to do something.
I am vanishing
I am being trampled by the galaxy inside me
Again and again
Branches of thought and colors of sound
Folding and walking across my body
The gravity of fear at the back of my head.
We are all communication.
This can’t be possible.
It was just the brightest space
In my own head
Now the ceiling fan imparts to me my mission
I must eat, or drink, or piss, or smoke
I am alone.
My account is as follows. I loaded the pipe up with 25X salvia, held it to my mouth, lit it, inhaled and held the smoke in for 30 seconds, handed the pipe to my friend and started staring at my hand, at which point, time and gravity were obliterated. My ego was a tiny leaf falling off of an enormous fractal family tree, made of flesh and resembling a hand. A great arm formed the trunk, and fingers were the branches, and they extended to infinity in all directions. Colors were brighter, shadows were darker, everything was at once flat and rounded beyond comparison with ordinary reality. My body was a huge hand too, with my arms and legs resembling fingers (knees/ankles, elbows/wrists, shoulders/hips all became knuckles) and my head, being intelligent or opposable, took on the role of the thumb. Two of these enormous, timeless, fractal hand trees, which I interpreted to be my two parents’ family trees, came together and fell in sync with the sounds that were coming out of my friend and I, which created a rhythmic, visual song made of a repeating nonsense alien alphabet (Albanixyuwaryunay…) It asked me to perform a task and in the split second it took me to understand that I must be insane and therefore could not perform said task, I was flung toward the stars to contemplate my inadequacy. Again, time was nonexistent, but at exactly the same moment I realized all sound and movement occurring right now was the speech of an omnipotent being who only spoke in fractal language and thus was ordinarily unintelligible. A mouth and cat-like face was deeply embedded in the webbing of my own hands as they interlocked with each other, opening my mind to greater and greater realizations about the parallels between my immediate reality and that buried in my unconscious, and at the same time, when these were separated, my ego dissolved. Primal fear gripped my body but at the same time I was still convinced I had yet to start hallucinating. In the end I decided I had seen nothing unusual and stumbled inside where I waited on my friend’s couch and stared at the ceiling fan, trying to grasp the strangeness of what had just happened to me, and the familiarity of it all as it resembled a circus from the future. I looked at the ceiling fan as fear pulled at the back of my head, the sight of the fan made me extremely uncomfortable and I felt as if I still needed to do something, like eat, or drink, or smoke some pot, or piss. In the end I tried each of these, did none of them successfully and flailed my arms around in discomfort. Finally I was sober enough to drive to the nearby cemetery, where I sat aghast at my own experience, alone, helpless, and without a fucking clue as to what had just happened.
Here’s what my friend says I did. I smoked the pipe, held it in for 30 seconds, dropped the pipe, which spilled so he couldn’t get anything out of it. He then asked me repeatedly if I wanted to go inside, to which I responded simply, “Wwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?” I was unable to establish eye contact, I kept looking around blankly, and stumbling. He then guided me inside where I tripped over a stool, landed on the couch, and began to move my arms around. I asked if we could smoke some weed, he reminded me we didn’t have any, which was the reason we had smoked salvia in the first place. I went to the bathroom, and soon he told me to go.