timeframing: the dmt experience

8/12/2019 Timeframing: The DMT Experience

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Timeframing:

TheDMT

Experience-Lex

Trip: 4/12/14Documentation: 4/13/14


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I decided to move around after that. Balam Acab was playing and I felt like I wasin some sort of playground. I tried to compare what I was seeing to something Ipreviously encountered. I remember picturing Boo from Monsters Inc. (haha) andthinking that I was seeing through her giant green, glassy eyes. Giant circles, concave,full of penetrating emotion. My walking was rhythmic. I walked into Hunters room withmy notebook and started writing. At first I was trying to force myself to write something

interesting. I kept becoming aware of what I looked like outside of my world, beforecoming right back into it. I was moving and fluctuating between reality and a non-reality, and it took awhile for them to blend into one. I had anxiety about how stupid Ilooked, rocking around and moving my hands all over the place to touch things. I endedup on Hunters bed and I was still rocking and things moved slowly and gracefully andmy hand moved in sections like my elbow would move and the rest of my hand wouldfollow to conform to the new point in space where my elbow was. The paper became thefocal point in this otherworldly narrative. Everything else blurred around me until thenotebook pages had more clarity than anything I had ever seen before. (after my trip Iwas worried I didn't experience an alternate reality, only a modified version of what Inormally saw, until I came to the realization that the exploration of the paper became

my new reality and everything was melted into that. I created my own world with mypencil, it was brilliant). The notebook looked like a smooth-shaded, animated model. Iwas fascinated with the way the pencil seemed to affix itself to the surface of the paper,but like a layer under, as if it were a transparent covering over it that I couldnt actuallysee, a gate-way, I could feel it without touching it. I wanted to be alone, I remember.


4/17

Before this happened I remember walking to Atticus and lacing the tips of myfingers through the spaces in his outstretched fingers so they fit, and my fingers swirledaround his. I wasn't doing anything, I wasn't consciously moving my fingers, they weremagnetized to his. My fingers swirled around his like a Jacobs ladder with the blocksbending around each other. It was so smooth. I was fascinated, everything moved so

gracefully in that same fixed motion I was describing with my body as a rocking chair.Now that I think about it, literally everything was moving around in a course, as if itwere mechanically driven. Nothing strayed away from its fixed path even thought it wasactually creating a fixed path. It was random yet planned and predetermined. I realizedconsciously how strange I must have looked to everyone, and stopped. Thats when I hadwalked into Hunters room that first time. I remember in Hunters room my fountainpen ran out of ink and in that moment, it felt like the trip was over. I had no morepurpose anymore if I could not document things. My reality was my canvas, mynotebook, nothing existed without it. I still felt a burning between my ribs from smokingthrough the pipe.

I walked back out of the room and everyone was by the door. I thought they werewatching me and it made me nervous but I wanted to know what it felt like to touchthem so I did. We hugged, it was nice, a collective embrace, but I felt distanced. It wasnice until I felt like they were compressing me, I was being compressed, becoming

smaller, downwards like a shrink to the ground. I told them it was too tight and felt tooconstrained and I pulled away. Hunter suddenly looked terrifying and ugly and wickedin the eyes and when I looked into Atticuss eyes I felt a little more comfort. His red hairmatched his purple shirt and it blended together, I kept telling myself they werecomplimentary colors, they had to be.

Actually, now that I think about it, that happened later. Things keep rushing atme and Im suddenly remembering things piece by piece as I write.I actually walked out of the room and everyone was sitting down and I said, I think itsover, its fading and Hunter said wow, that was so short and I laughed and tried toexplain my experience.


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Next thing I know Im walking towards the kitchen with a pencil and thenotebook in hand and everything starts up again, and I tell them Wow, wait! Wait! Itisn't over! and start pacing and Im alone and I test my feet to see how they work. I startto notice the whole time Ive been standing Ive been bobbing my knees and I

contemplate letting myself melt so I get lower and my upper body starts dripping overmy knees until Im melting into them. My paper was bigger than ever and it was a partof my body, half melted inside of it. I was a cocoon. I inspected the papers clarity as Imelted more and more into the floor. I was mesmerized by my paper. I felt that it was sodeep, like a black void is deep, but this was white and the whiteness of this void went onforever. I put the tip of my fountain pen into one of the black holes where the paper ispunched through. I felt like I was peeling a flap of skin off of the void when I stuck mypen in there. I was peeling myself. I started writing what I felt and I was aware that mywords were getting bigger and they didnt want to be contained by the blue lines but theydidn't stray from them either. They looked so beautiful on paper, the graphite letters. Sosmooth, but so textured in a way that I cannot explain. I wanted to write forever. I

wrote, The whole trip is an exploration of this page.

I went back into the room. 5 people all lying down calmly but I didn't want to becalm. I sat down anyway. I closed my eyes and decided I wanted to draw what I saw inthe darkness of my eyelids. A strange night landscape, swirls of bismuth crystals

building on top of themselves. It all looked slightly like the cover of the Great Gatsby,but more digital. There was a half sun in it that was painted but it looked like the circleon the new Tycho album at the same time, like a defined vector. I drew it the best Icould, it kept moving around sort of like my granular dystrophy and the dots that followmy vision wherever I look. (granular dystrophy is a genetic condition where opaquedeposits inside of your cornea cause you to often see small, translucent spots in yourvision). I followed them and drew them. This is what I ultimately came up with:


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I opened my eyes. Atticus was meditating. I asked myself how he could be so calmand still when he must have felt as vibrant as I had. I explained to everyone how I felt,how thoughts were spreading out of me and how I had to keep writing down what I wassaying, thinking, and did. Hunter said he felt nothing, he saw nothing, only blackness,emptiness, dark voided space. I thought, how? HOW? He said he was jealous that I hadso many thoughts. Sergio said I was so lucky to be visualizing and thinking so much.Atticus walked over to Hunter who was lying on the couch. I watched Hunters bed arm.I watched its speed. It was slow yet moved like the elbow of mine earlier. I watched itmove way too much, I tried to stop it, I could slow it down just by concentrating on it. Isaid I can control speed right now! and tried to describe it. I told him to stop movingso much, it was annoying. In a flash I realized that he wasnt actually moving at all. Iforgot about this realization I nan instant and started altering the speed of his armagain. Atticus said something about me timeframing. I understood this concept butdidn't understand the concept. Everyone was so calm and collected and I was raging. Ikept saying my knees hurt from bobbing and my hip bones and lower back hurt frommoving like a rocking chair and I laughed and said I couldn't stop, and I laughed somemore as I rocked and rocked and rocked.


7/17

Im having trouble remembering specific things after that. I remember walkingback and forth and then walking into the mirror because I wanted to look at my face inthe mirror. I was afraid to. I waited a long time until I did, but I did. I remember staringat myself. Nothing. Nothing moved, not like the shrooms. All was blank. I think I

stopped moving too, but I cant remember or be too sure. I don't really know whathappened, I thought all would be vivid and morphing like the effect of the shrooms butit wasn't. There was a disconnect. I got bored with my face, I didn't identify with it. Ididn't care about it, it was nothing to me. If anything it was an inconvenience and Ihated putting myself through the tediousness of trying to search through it in themirror. I wanted to experience textures so I turned the sink water on and watched asbeads of water slowly morphed through my knuckles.

(As a side note, I just noticed something very strange. When recalling memories ingenerally, I usually remember them blankly in my head without a specific focus on animage etc. But to bring these memories of the trip into focus, to the surface, I have to

stare the void of white paper (originally I wrote this on paper before typing), and withinthe marks of my letters I see exactly how I felt and Im not even exposed to DMTanymore. But I can feel my hand and my pen and my paper become so much larger andI wonder...I wonder if Ive always had the chance to reach into my mind and my writinglike this before but wasnt aware of it until it forced itself upon me. If I can see right nowlike I did in the trip, or with a similar resemblance, what other extraordinary things canI see and do?)

Anyways, back to the water. I cupped water into my palm and the edges that metthe sides of my skin gleamed and in each gleam I saw a little land of welcoming people,like little spirits hovering on yellow-white ground. I let them spill and then did it again

and was reunited with them. I think I thought of them as synonymous to Iceland, butcant remember and Im not sure how or why that popped into my head just now.


8/17

After that endeavor I remember someone saying it was 3 am and I had an ohshit moment and said I had to sleep (was hiking at 8 am that morning). Atticus told meto assure my mind that I needed sleep and assure it that it was okay to slip away forever,it was okay to die. I said I understood and felt that it would be easy. It was okay to die. Itwas okay to die, I was already dead. There was no difference between life and death,

they were comprised of the same energies. I realized that my body was meant to die butmy Self, no that was not.

The lights went out, I laid down. I don't remember what the mattress felt like butI remember how my body felt in each position that I put it in. I didn't feel like I hadlimbs, they were just extensions of light radiating out in patterns around me. Closing myeyes was strange. I had all these racing images in my head that were like pixilated thingslayered over each other like cartoonish pixelated palm trees and then a layer of squaresand then more trees and more geometric patterns and I felt like I was in some sort ofethereal casino. There was no sound heard yet everything seemed so loud. The BalamAcab playing before was lost, it was quiet outside of my body.

When I was a child I used to focus on on the darkness in my eyelids and wouldalways see this tiny, microscopic shape that was comprised of so many small circles, in asort of hexagonal pattern that wasn't noticeably hexagonal. I used to think it was anatom and that maybe I could see atoms. I see this every time I focus on my on thedarkness in my closed eyes, and have ever since I was young. Nothing ever came of it, Icouldn't figure it out. I still see it. Well, when my eyes were closed during the trip it wasvisible, in this sort of blue, red, green color scheme its always in. And it startedexpanding, it started becoming these giant rings and not just small circles. There wasone for each color of the general rainbow and I knew they were each of my chakras fusedand swirling around each other. I think the rings were shaped like the egg of life, which

is a symbol from the flower of life that is said to resemble the shape of a multi-cellularembryo in its first hours of creation. Suddenly the whole thing felt like a burning yellow,and I felt it in my solar plexus (the solar plexus is coincidentally yellow which issomething I didn't readily register until after the trip ended). I knew in that momentthat everything came out of my solar plexus chakra, the Manipura, and I think thatswhere my consciousness resides, not in my head like I thought. Usually when I meditateI focus on my head, my third eye. I was so wrong, that is not the center of my being.When I meditate on my back, I always place a crystal below my belly button. Then Imove it up a chakra, up again, until it reaches my forehead over time. Every time I placeit there and let go with my hand I start to develop a headache, a pressure. Almostunbearable, but still pleasant. Multiple times Ive had to take this crystal off of my

forehead because it was just too much. I thought the reason for this was that myconsciousness was too powerful there but now I think its because my third eye chakra,the Ajna, is not where my center resides. It is in my solar pelxus. As a child and to thisday, Ive hated wearing yellow. I look awful in yellow. The solar plexus/Manipura isyellow. I think that maybe my body or perspective rejects yellow because in its materialform, it tries to hard to express my consciousness when my consciousness is meant toremain internally.


9/17

So after discovering where my center lies, I started to experience everything fromthere more vividly than before (or maybe just more noticeably). When I was trippingearlier on shrooms, there was a moment when we turned the music off for a full minuteto see hoe it would effect us. It was unbearable, I felt this pain in between my ribs and itfelt as if there was an entire imploding sun inside of my chest, literally sucking itself into

itself, and sucking me within it as well. I was doubled over trying to breathe but it tookeffort. I asked if Hunter and Atticus felt it too and Atticus said something like, wow,now that you mention it I feel it too and Hunter felt it strongly and I felt like I wasinducing it, like I was the center and their solar plexuses revolved around me likegaseous planets. It was too much.

I just touched my solar plexus now and I felt nauseas. I feel sick. I want to throw

up. I am going to cry. It is 6:11 PM on April 13th and Im not tripping and I feel myconsciousness even more strongly than I did while tripping. It is a swirling gaseous orb,completely penetrable. Disrupting it feels like pushing a finger into the slit of a largewound and exploring it until the pain alone induces death. Except you are actuallysticking your finger into your own wound.Oh god.

I feel like I have awakened myself.

It is brutally painful.


10/17

A few hours ago I said these things to Hunter in tweets:

On the drive home I literally started hallucinating, induced by overwhelming

stimuliMusic is an amalgamation of concentric spirals, it rushes through small spaces

nothing vibrates but everything shakes and finally I see the truth behind theessence of things

I went hiking to Pedernales State Park early this morning, about 6 hours after thetrip ended, and I felt like I was walking on a living, breathing, giant solar plexus, gaseous

planet, wow the earth. Rocks were soft, I soaked into them. Water was just a tissuepaper surface with nothing but air underneath, and it breathed. The ripples werebreaths through its surface.

Atticus said you have themes when you trip. I want to document mine from thetwo trips and see if they happen again:

1. Oceans2. The Solar Plexus3. Things spherical, circular, concave, moving at a fixed rate, revolving

Something really bizarre about that last one. In my trip notebook I have this one

drawing that was done during both the shroom trip and the DMT trip and the were bothabout separate things. It was this concave thing. I don't know why I spoke aboutconcaves during the shroom trip (we discussed them for a long time) but in the DMTtrip I used it to describe the motion I was feeling I had to conform to, like a rockingchair slowly moving back and forth at a fixed rate. The first two images are from theshroom trip, and the third was from the DMT trip. I feel like this must mean somethingbut I have not been able to figure it out yet.


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It is bizarre in ways I cannot explain. I also have many other drawings that depict things

that make sense somewhere beyond my own understanding. It is really beautiful whatstream of consciousness does. I feel these are expressions of my own consciousness butcould not fathom why.


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timeframing: the dmt experience

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