By flowboy,
Trip Report 30g Golden Teacher truffles
What do I want to create? What do you mean, create?! There is already everything! I am already everything!
I AM THE COFFEE!
It's the next morning. I'm slightly bothered by people addressing me with my name (let's say Flowboy). As a separate person. I have to remember how to play that character.
I want to be alone. Or at least not be talked to. It's exhausting to be put back into the Flowboy role. This is a report of a trip with what ended up being 30 grams of Golden Teacher sclerotia (psilocybe cubensis truffles). According to the internet, this is roughly equivalent to between 5 and 8 grams of shrooms. I bought two packs of 15 grams. B, A and me sit down on the floor around a candle, in a triangle, holding hands. We each say a prayer. Then A and me start consuming the shrooms. I took a "full" dose of 15 grams, then portioned out another dose of 10 grams for later, and set a timer for an hour, to decide whether we want to go deeper. Spoiler alert: I take all of it. T + 1:00
As soon as we're both feeling it, and are feeling sort of stable, I suggest taking a walk. We want to see some nature. Our sitter B is on board. This is right around the 1 hour mark, I discover, and I'm sure I want to kick it up a notch. I eat most of the 10 grams and leave some for after the walk. This is just what felt right. There's a hair in my mouth. This is a persistent sensation I keep having and remarking about throughout the night. Also happened to me on acid. I briefly wonder whether it is a good idea to up the dose and go outside at the same time, but I decide that the concept of good and bad idea doesn't make sense and I should just trust. I'm sitting at the lake, marvelling at the WILD nature visuals. Branches, trees are growing before my eyes. The other side of the lake is alive with growth. Everywhere I look is life sprouting. I am a part of nature. A. is standing right behind me and stroking the sides of my head with her fingers. But they are not her fingers. They are the tentacles of the organic Universe nature entity that is connecting through her and me. Tickling her tentacles through my consciousness, inviting me, sucking me up, penetrating my identity. I let go. "Take me" I think. With my eyes closed I see morphing green octopus arms / plant branches / tree roots, crawling and grasping at me. I can feel the energy running through A, her hands, me, and the ground. "This is just foreplay", I think.
[A had the exact same experience of connectedness, her hands connecting to me but not JUST me, but Everything.] It's not personal. It's not about little me and little her. Source showed us that we are the same. I wouldn't describe it as loving, because even though we were connecting to something infinitely good, it is very different from the egoic feeling of personal love. Like the universe loves Flowboy, but could also kill him or make him suffer, and then that is good. We're leaving the lake. I remark that "you" and "I" and places to go are concepts, and how I would like to let go of them. But, "I can't completely let go, because I need them to go somewhere. You need your ego to move places and make things happen." A understands.
Several bushes stick their leaves out at my face and say hi to me. I have wordless conversations with them. Their structure seems infinitely deep. I talk to several tree branches like that and say "Bye!" to them as we walk on. "Is it me or is it getting kind of dark! B, is it dark? I have no idea! HAHAHAHA" I laugh maniacally and start skipping through the street. The street is now overgrown with magical flowers the size of me almost. The size of the street is exploding with fast growing magical-feeling bushes, plants and flowers. I'm skipping through Wonderland. I remark: "I could worry about people looking at this guy, acting weird, but I'm gonna let that go!! It feels so much better to just let that go!" I laugh a deep rumbling laugh. I am no longer Flowboy. I am an expression of infinite love. Periodically throughout the evening, I jump up and down and clap my hands like a happy child. The questions I wrote down instantly lost all significance. What do I want to create? "I"?? That's so silly. There is already everything! I am everything. Nothing is needed. There is nothing to be done. Everything is already perfect as it is. It doesn't matter what I think! I fall back into the carpet in surrender. A trust fall into nothingness. Ecstatically shouting: "It doesn't matter what I think. IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I THINK!! :D" I'm standing in the kitchen with a tea bag in my hand. And a cup. Puzzled, I attempt to put one into the other. "I" am putting "the tea bag". I start explaining to B how you need these concepts to do things. The concept of tea and the concept of I. Separateness. But I would rather let go of concepts for now. Concepts create the illusion of separateness. But you need them for tea. I have always existed, and will always exist. Infinity. It's infinite. It's perfect. EVERYTHING IS ALREADY PERFECT AS IT IS I created it perfectly. I did good. It's impossible to worry. Who is worrying about what? Fear needs to be relative to something. There is nothing to fear. I am supposed to take it all. To see. If there is nothing to fear, why not go see? TRUST!! I state that I will be back and walk to the table where I left the remaining 5 grams. Smiling, I start eating them, alternating them with strawberries. Let's see.
The term "ego death" comes to mind. I start contemplating this. Is that what's supposed to happen? There is nothing to fear baby. Nothing to fear. Everything is an expression of love
Laying on the floor. Flowboy is drawing his last breaths. I put his hands together in front of his chest. Stretch his body out. Symmetric body posture. His breath is extremely slow now. Throat is partially closed. [Later I draw a parallel to what I think yogic breathing is] I could stop it, it wouldn't matter. There is the sensation that A is trying to prevent me from dying. Holding my hand, touching me, trying to interact with my body. She doesn't understand. But that's fine. I feel like not cuddling anymore and focus on putting my arms and legs in a symmetrical position. "Just let me die", I think. "It's okay." The sensation of his teeth in his skull are all that's left of Flowboy now. His hands have melted into the carpet. His body and the carpet and the room, it's all one thing. All made of the same stuff. I created it perfectly. It's all an expression of love. The vague, rudimentary, blurry, cartoonish shapes that make up the corner of the window. They expand. The corner of the window are now all there is. I AM the corner of the window. How could I forget. The corner of the window is ME!!! I dreamt all this up. The last place Flowboy looked (corner of the window) now zooms in and it is everything. I am the corner of the window. No more separateness. No more me. [ Later I wonder whether this is what is meant by satori ] A deep laugh rumbles from Flowboy's lifeless body. I remember feeling vaguely like: "The Flowboy would find this freaky and cool. Right now there is no one here to have an opinion, so no room for judgment, but he would." The infinite expression of love needs to pee. The thought arises to comfort A, laying beside me. Should I leave her alone? I chuckle at that ridiculousness. She is an expression of me. She feels what I'm doing and thinking. No need to use words and pretend we're separate. Stumbling through a world of blurry cartoonish shapes, I dream my Flowboy to the bathroom. I've been there before. I've been there all along. I lean against the wall and instantly melt into it. I stick Flowboy's arm through the wall. It doesn't exist. Whether Flowboy is actually in the bathroom is the wrong question to ask.
I feel A. I am her. Still on the carpet. Right. I was playing a game. The "Flowboy has to pee" game. Seems unnecessary, because everything is already complete, there is nothing to do. But let's amuse myself. The colourful blurry cartoon hands take Flowboys dick out. It's glistening and shimmering like it just sparkled into existence. Surrender. All there ever was, and ever will be, is this infinite moment, of trust, and surrender, surrender, surrender. There is no bad, just infinite flavours of good. There is no no, just infinite yes'es. I realize I'm alone. I've always been alone. This doesn't feel lonely, just surprising. I forgot that this has always been me, playing with puppets. Entertaining and playing a cosmic joke on myself. I am pretending to be A, and B. And Flowboy. And there is no time. I created this universe, made out of me, to tell myself stories with. The ending of one of the stories was Flowboy taking 30 grams of truffles. That was always going to be it. The closing of the book. Desert Dwellers is playing. [Which is now my absolute favourite trip music.] At this point it is so loopy and repetitive and trance inducing that I become really convinced that time is either standing still, or never existed, and it's one of the jokes I made to myself I'm sitting at the table filled with food, but I don't have a body. It has dissolved. The chair is empty, in a way. I'm transparent. I put my hand through the table. Wave it through the strawberries. If I concentrate, I can will a hand into existence, to pick up the strawberries and the orange juice. Distraction. Who is distracted by what? Separateness. Illusion. I look back into A's eyes at the same time that she also looks up. Her hand mirrors my hand movement. I'm fully convinced now that we are one. Expressions of the same. Using language to pretend we're different characters with separate minds is a fun, but unnecessary game. We're remembering that we're the same. There is a conversation going on. With me. And me. Since always. And forever. I have always existed. There is only One. There is only Love. That's the answer. I dreamed all this up to entertain myself. To experience myself. And I suppose I also forgot about it to kid myself, for fun. I look at A's blurry cartoon face and I AM her face. She/I looks at me. She/I remember. She/I were kidding ourselves/myself for awhile, but now we/I know. There is tea in front of me. SEE!! I NEVER NEEDED TEA. I AM THE TEA. MY CUP WAS FULL TO BEGIN WITH. I am the tea. I dream up a hand and start eating curry with it from the bowl. That's so funny. Curry eating itself. A made it. I don't personally remember it, but that means I made it.
Looking at A, I confirm: "We did good. We made it perfectly. I love you." Even that seems so unnecessary to say. I'm talking to myself. A says: "Now I have that sensation of a hair in my mouth!" It makes sense to me because I am her. I look in her eyes, at her face and again this zooming-in happens. They're my eyes. My face. There is only One here. We know it. [She experienced this oneness and connectedness similarly. We had to get used to being separate people later ] A asks to make preparations for bed. I smile. There is nothing to do. It's already done.
A asks to get naked and feel skin contact. I'm already here. It is unnecessary.
A asks to give her a massage and stand/walk on her back. I'm puzzled: why would I walk on my own back? But why not. Let's humor myself and play something with the A and Flowboy characters.
I massage A's back with Flowboy, and put Flowboy on top of her. Then I let A ask him to lie down on her back, and make Flowboy do it.
Our hands connect and I honestly don't know which of the arms/bodies I am. We've always been one. Just consciousness playing with itself. A is coming out of it and starts thanking me for bringing her along in this experience, saying it was part of my purpose. This deeply puzzles me. I'm so wrapped up in believing that we are one mind, that her calling upon the separate Flowboy confuses me. Slight paranoid thoughts come up that there was once a Flowboy but he is destroyed because he took shrooms and permanently merged his mind with his tripping partner. I'm not worried though. I let her lead me upstairs to my bed, of which the shape is still sizzling and half-materializing, but getting more and more solid. A book is on the night stand: Conversations with God. This strikes me as a synchronicity because I just remembered that I'm God. But that means I put it there. ====== Next morning, A suggests to listen together to an audio recording of some spiritual guy channeling Bashar, talking about the same stuff that we experienced. Could help us ground it. I hesitantly agree, but it turns out well. One insight from that really made so much sense to me that I had to write it down:
Source is creating different characters to experience itself. The sense of separateness, the egos, is what create self awareness. The first reflection.
====== That really feels true as being the purpose of egos. It intuitively made sense to me, because "as Everything" I at one point felt, well, bored? Not quite. But yes to differentiate into separate people would be a good thing. I've heard some guy say, or read somewhere, that after experiencing satori, you realize that what you want isn't satori. D arrives and greets us with hugs. There is this nice calm presence and trust. I can feel the Flowboy having preferences, but that's just what they are. They have no bearing on the present moment and are not to be taken too seriously. There is trust that whatever comes is good. When D is looking at me, and gesturing, I feel myself making those gestures. When A looks at me and talks, I feel her mouth moving. I feel like I've seen the fabric of reality unweave and put back together. I wonder what is beneath the skin of my beautiful talking partner. I imagine her transparent, an infinitely thin layer. She's describing an Ayahuasca trip in color and detail. Interestingly, she mentions that she's not sure whether I'm real, in front of her, or whether she's dreaming me. I know what she means. In the train station. In between a mass of people moving their legs. I am moving all of my legs. What a freaky, and pleasant sensation! I am a gigantic creature with infinite legs crawling through the train station. The sense of identity just expanded.
Standing across from strangers, I have a newfound empathy. Flowboy is worried about the stranger being freaked out by too much eye contact. But I also have apprecation for the stranger, experiencing an impression of Flowboy. A sense of impartiality. Arriving home, I run into 3 people I know at the train station. A guy I know from improv class, a girl I dated a week ago, and a girl I dated 13 years ago. This strikes me as a synchronicity. The number of lost acquiaintances contacting me/spontaneously running into me has been ramping up noticably in the past week.
I want to be alone. Or at least not be talked to. It's exhausting to be put back into the Flowboy role. This is a report of a trip with what ended up being 30 grams of Golden Teacher sclerotia (psilocybe cubensis truffles). According to the internet, this is roughly equivalent to between 5 and 8 grams of shrooms. I bought two packs of 15 grams. B, A and me sit down on the floor around a candle, in a triangle, holding hands. We each say a prayer. Then A and me start consuming the shrooms. I took a "full" dose of 15 grams, then portioned out another dose of 10 grams for later, and set a timer for an hour, to decide whether we want to go deeper. Spoiler alert: I take all of it. T + 1:00
As soon as we're both feeling it, and are feeling sort of stable, I suggest taking a walk. We want to see some nature. Our sitter B is on board. This is right around the 1 hour mark, I discover, and I'm sure I want to kick it up a notch. I eat most of the 10 grams and leave some for after the walk. This is just what felt right. There's a hair in my mouth. This is a persistent sensation I keep having and remarking about throughout the night. Also happened to me on acid. I briefly wonder whether it is a good idea to up the dose and go outside at the same time, but I decide that the concept of good and bad idea doesn't make sense and I should just trust. I'm sitting at the lake, marvelling at the WILD nature visuals. Branches, trees are growing before my eyes. The other side of the lake is alive with growth. Everywhere I look is life sprouting. I am a part of nature. A. is standing right behind me and stroking the sides of my head with her fingers. But they are not her fingers. They are the tentacles of the organic Universe nature entity that is connecting through her and me. Tickling her tentacles through my consciousness, inviting me, sucking me up, penetrating my identity. I let go. "Take me" I think. With my eyes closed I see morphing green octopus arms / plant branches / tree roots, crawling and grasping at me. I can feel the energy running through A, her hands, me, and the ground. "This is just foreplay", I think.
[A had the exact same experience of connectedness, her hands connecting to me but not JUST me, but Everything.] It's not personal. It's not about little me and little her. Source showed us that we are the same. I wouldn't describe it as loving, because even though we were connecting to something infinitely good, it is very different from the egoic feeling of personal love. Like the universe loves Flowboy, but could also kill him or make him suffer, and then that is good. We're leaving the lake. I remark that "you" and "I" and places to go are concepts, and how I would like to let go of them. But, "I can't completely let go, because I need them to go somewhere. You need your ego to move places and make things happen." A understands.
Several bushes stick their leaves out at my face and say hi to me. I have wordless conversations with them. Their structure seems infinitely deep. I talk to several tree branches like that and say "Bye!" to them as we walk on. "Is it me or is it getting kind of dark! B, is it dark? I have no idea! HAHAHAHA" I laugh maniacally and start skipping through the street. The street is now overgrown with magical flowers the size of me almost. The size of the street is exploding with fast growing magical-feeling bushes, plants and flowers. I'm skipping through Wonderland. I remark: "I could worry about people looking at this guy, acting weird, but I'm gonna let that go!! It feels so much better to just let that go!" I laugh a deep rumbling laugh. I am no longer Flowboy. I am an expression of infinite love. Periodically throughout the evening, I jump up and down and clap my hands like a happy child. The questions I wrote down instantly lost all significance. What do I want to create? "I"?? That's so silly. There is already everything! I am everything. Nothing is needed. There is nothing to be done. Everything is already perfect as it is. It doesn't matter what I think! I fall back into the carpet in surrender. A trust fall into nothingness. Ecstatically shouting: "It doesn't matter what I think. IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I THINK!! :D" I'm standing in the kitchen with a tea bag in my hand. And a cup. Puzzled, I attempt to put one into the other. "I" am putting "the tea bag". I start explaining to B how you need these concepts to do things. The concept of tea and the concept of I. Separateness. But I would rather let go of concepts for now. Concepts create the illusion of separateness. But you need them for tea. I have always existed, and will always exist. Infinity. It's infinite. It's perfect. EVERYTHING IS ALREADY PERFECT AS IT IS I created it perfectly. I did good. It's impossible to worry. Who is worrying about what? Fear needs to be relative to something. There is nothing to fear. I am supposed to take it all. To see. If there is nothing to fear, why not go see? TRUST!! I state that I will be back and walk to the table where I left the remaining 5 grams. Smiling, I start eating them, alternating them with strawberries. Let's see.
The term "ego death" comes to mind. I start contemplating this. Is that what's supposed to happen? There is nothing to fear baby. Nothing to fear. Everything is an expression of love
Laying on the floor. Flowboy is drawing his last breaths. I put his hands together in front of his chest. Stretch his body out. Symmetric body posture. His breath is extremely slow now. Throat is partially closed. [Later I draw a parallel to what I think yogic breathing is] I could stop it, it wouldn't matter. There is the sensation that A is trying to prevent me from dying. Holding my hand, touching me, trying to interact with my body. She doesn't understand. But that's fine. I feel like not cuddling anymore and focus on putting my arms and legs in a symmetrical position. "Just let me die", I think. "It's okay." The sensation of his teeth in his skull are all that's left of Flowboy now. His hands have melted into the carpet. His body and the carpet and the room, it's all one thing. All made of the same stuff. I created it perfectly. It's all an expression of love. The vague, rudimentary, blurry, cartoonish shapes that make up the corner of the window. They expand. The corner of the window are now all there is. I AM the corner of the window. How could I forget. The corner of the window is ME!!! I dreamt all this up. The last place Flowboy looked (corner of the window) now zooms in and it is everything. I am the corner of the window. No more separateness. No more me. [ Later I wonder whether this is what is meant by satori ] A deep laugh rumbles from Flowboy's lifeless body. I remember feeling vaguely like: "The Flowboy would find this freaky and cool. Right now there is no one here to have an opinion, so no room for judgment, but he would." The infinite expression of love needs to pee. The thought arises to comfort A, laying beside me. Should I leave her alone? I chuckle at that ridiculousness. She is an expression of me. She feels what I'm doing and thinking. No need to use words and pretend we're separate. Stumbling through a world of blurry cartoonish shapes, I dream my Flowboy to the bathroom. I've been there before. I've been there all along. I lean against the wall and instantly melt into it. I stick Flowboy's arm through the wall. It doesn't exist. Whether Flowboy is actually in the bathroom is the wrong question to ask.
I feel A. I am her. Still on the carpet. Right. I was playing a game. The "Flowboy has to pee" game. Seems unnecessary, because everything is already complete, there is nothing to do. But let's amuse myself. The colourful blurry cartoon hands take Flowboys dick out. It's glistening and shimmering like it just sparkled into existence. Surrender. All there ever was, and ever will be, is this infinite moment, of trust, and surrender, surrender, surrender. There is no bad, just infinite flavours of good. There is no no, just infinite yes'es. I realize I'm alone. I've always been alone. This doesn't feel lonely, just surprising. I forgot that this has always been me, playing with puppets. Entertaining and playing a cosmic joke on myself. I am pretending to be A, and B. And Flowboy. And there is no time. I created this universe, made out of me, to tell myself stories with. The ending of one of the stories was Flowboy taking 30 grams of truffles. That was always going to be it. The closing of the book. Desert Dwellers is playing. [Which is now my absolute favourite trip music.] At this point it is so loopy and repetitive and trance inducing that I become really convinced that time is either standing still, or never existed, and it's one of the jokes I made to myself I'm sitting at the table filled with food, but I don't have a body. It has dissolved. The chair is empty, in a way. I'm transparent. I put my hand through the table. Wave it through the strawberries. If I concentrate, I can will a hand into existence, to pick up the strawberries and the orange juice. Distraction. Who is distracted by what? Separateness. Illusion. I look back into A's eyes at the same time that she also looks up. Her hand mirrors my hand movement. I'm fully convinced now that we are one. Expressions of the same. Using language to pretend we're different characters with separate minds is a fun, but unnecessary game. We're remembering that we're the same. There is a conversation going on. With me. And me. Since always. And forever. I have always existed. There is only One. There is only Love. That's the answer. I dreamed all this up to entertain myself. To experience myself. And I suppose I also forgot about it to kid myself, for fun. I look at A's blurry cartoon face and I AM her face. She/I looks at me. She/I remember. She/I were kidding ourselves/myself for awhile, but now we/I know. There is tea in front of me. SEE!! I NEVER NEEDED TEA. I AM THE TEA. MY CUP WAS FULL TO BEGIN WITH. I am the tea. I dream up a hand and start eating curry with it from the bowl. That's so funny. Curry eating itself. A made it. I don't personally remember it, but that means I made it.
Looking at A, I confirm: "We did good. We made it perfectly. I love you." Even that seems so unnecessary to say. I'm talking to myself. A says: "Now I have that sensation of a hair in my mouth!" It makes sense to me because I am her. I look in her eyes, at her face and again this zooming-in happens. They're my eyes. My face. There is only One here. We know it. [She experienced this oneness and connectedness similarly. We had to get used to being separate people later ] A asks to make preparations for bed. I smile. There is nothing to do. It's already done.
A asks to get naked and feel skin contact. I'm already here. It is unnecessary.
A asks to give her a massage and stand/walk on her back. I'm puzzled: why would I walk on my own back? But why not. Let's humor myself and play something with the A and Flowboy characters.
I massage A's back with Flowboy, and put Flowboy on top of her. Then I let A ask him to lie down on her back, and make Flowboy do it.
Our hands connect and I honestly don't know which of the arms/bodies I am. We've always been one. Just consciousness playing with itself. A is coming out of it and starts thanking me for bringing her along in this experience, saying it was part of my purpose. This deeply puzzles me. I'm so wrapped up in believing that we are one mind, that her calling upon the separate Flowboy confuses me. Slight paranoid thoughts come up that there was once a Flowboy but he is destroyed because he took shrooms and permanently merged his mind with his tripping partner. I'm not worried though. I let her lead me upstairs to my bed, of which the shape is still sizzling and half-materializing, but getting more and more solid. A book is on the night stand: Conversations with God. This strikes me as a synchronicity because I just remembered that I'm God. But that means I put it there. ====== Next morning, A suggests to listen together to an audio recording of some spiritual guy channeling Bashar, talking about the same stuff that we experienced. Could help us ground it. I hesitantly agree, but it turns out well. One insight from that really made so much sense to me that I had to write it down:
Source is creating different characters to experience itself. The sense of separateness, the egos, is what create self awareness. The first reflection.
====== That really feels true as being the purpose of egos. It intuitively made sense to me, because "as Everything" I at one point felt, well, bored? Not quite. But yes to differentiate into separate people would be a good thing. I've heard some guy say, or read somewhere, that after experiencing satori, you realize that what you want isn't satori. D arrives and greets us with hugs. There is this nice calm presence and trust. I can feel the Flowboy having preferences, but that's just what they are. They have no bearing on the present moment and are not to be taken too seriously. There is trust that whatever comes is good. When D is looking at me, and gesturing, I feel myself making those gestures. When A looks at me and talks, I feel her mouth moving. I feel like I've seen the fabric of reality unweave and put back together. I wonder what is beneath the skin of my beautiful talking partner. I imagine her transparent, an infinitely thin layer. She's describing an Ayahuasca trip in color and detail. Interestingly, she mentions that she's not sure whether I'm real, in front of her, or whether she's dreaming me. I know what she means. In the train station. In between a mass of people moving their legs. I am moving all of my legs. What a freaky, and pleasant sensation! I am a gigantic creature with infinite legs crawling through the train station. The sense of identity just expanded.
Standing across from strangers, I have a newfound empathy. Flowboy is worried about the stranger being freaked out by too much eye contact. But I also have apprecation for the stranger, experiencing an impression of Flowboy. A sense of impartiality. Arriving home, I run into 3 people I know at the train station. A guy I know from improv class, a girl I dated a week ago, and a girl I dated 13 years ago. This strikes me as a synchronicity. The number of lost acquiaintances contacting me/spontaneously running into me has been ramping up noticably in the past week.