DOSE: T+ 0:00	0.5 hits		LSD	(blotter / tab)
T+ 1:00	2 hits		LSD	(blotter / tab)
T+ 1:00	repeated	inhaled	Nitrous Oxide	(gas)
T+ 7:00	2 hits		LSD	(blotter / tab)
T+ 8:00	1 capsl	oral	MDMA	(capsule)
T+ 8:00	repeated	inhaled	Nitrous Oxide	(gas)

BODY WEIGHT:

152 lb

My friends and I set up a party at a rented house in the country, complete with lights, turntables, speaker stacks, and a visualizer. I began the night at around 10:00 p.m. with a half a hit of “Yoda” blotter I’d received on the playa at Burning Man 2007. This acid is very clean and despite its age and the environmental abuse it had taken on the journey home from Burning Man, it came on within a half an hour. I bumped it up with approximately two hits of plain white unscored blotter about an hour later, and was tripping fairly strongly by 1:00 a.m.

Time after this point becomes difficult to estimate, as the LSD takes a single minute and stretches it into hours. The visuals were fairly standard for the drug: a warping of perspective, trails, visual and audio echo distortions. I recently began a transition out of my present career path and I spent this portion of the experience mulling this over. It seemed ridiculous that I haven’t yet figured out how to make a living doing what I love and that I’ve instead spent years chasing money and trying to fit in the things that satisfy me around the edges of my career. The more I thought about this, the stupider it seemed.

My friend M is a great psychonaut and he began to trip me out by leading my mind in circles – talking to me as if he were me, which made me feel as if he were reading my mind. I’d lost the ability to speak coherently at that time, so I just stared at him and grinned, which tripped him out. During the night we took hits of nitrous oxide, which enhanced the LSD visuals. The wallpaper was breathing and with the aid of the gas any complex pattern would split out into a threefold symmetry of truncated triangles and Julia sets. It was so beautiful.

We were listening to electro house with a very sexual beat. I could feel A (who was deejaying) using his music to manipulate our hallucinations. The sex-vibe got stronger and stronger and eventually I decided to give in to it. My husband, T, was sleeping in a room down the hallway so I went to him and made love to him. I was not able to orgasm, as my body was too tired and the acid had me flipped way out past the point of the kind of intellectual disengagement I need in order to climax, but I was able to get him to come, which made me happy. Afterward I couldn’t sleep. The small noises of the house created images in my mind – stilted aliens stalking around in the darkness. I left my husband to sleep, got up, and took a shower. Then I rejoined my friends in the party room.

I took another two hits of the same plain white blotter that morning at around 5:00. Unfortunately as my body got more tired, my mind started to wind into a tighter and tighter loop. I became convinced that I was on the wrong track and that I’d somehow made a shameful mistake. Taking drugs was not the way forward. It was a juvenile thing to do, really. Life is about balance and responsibility and I had been neglecting that responsibility. Beauty doesn’t come soaked into a square of blotter; it’s something you work at on a daily basis, like building a muscle. I saw that I had been failing in my efforts to create beauty because I’d been failing in my responsibility to take care of my body and my life. Furthermore I was treading on someone else’s ground – some alien race that had been waiting for me to wake up from the trance that we call “human reality.” Some of my other friends took MDMA at around 5:30 and though I wanted to experience the “candy flip” I didn’t want to ingest it because it’s very hard on my body and I was halfway convinced that the alien race would be so disappointed in me.

By 6:00 a.m. I was sitting on the bed, holding this capsule of “molly” in my fingers, almost completely unable to make a decision as to whether or not I wanted to take it. M interpreted my brain for me – he really was reading my mind. “Do I want to eat this? What if this is all a big mistake?” Finally I just gave him a look and swallowed the capsule.

I followed this up with some more nitrous. Within a reasonable amount of time the MDMA began to relax me and let my mind flow more freely. The music that A was spinning was immensely powerful. I sat on the couch next to J, who is one of my best male friends. We had connected very strongly through a hallucination out at Burning Man one year, and I felt that lightning-bolt connection come back between us. I was astounded by the amount of love I felt for this guy. It was like white light. Love and respect. I just wanted to sit next to him and enjoy the fact that he was alive, because that was the best thing ever to happen.

I was caught up by the molly and loving the whole universe. I’ve hardly ever felt a candy-flip this intense. I felt drawn entirely out of this dimension and toward a completely different reality. As I was lying on the bed I could feel the grip of my mind wanting to let go, so I took another hit of nitrous oxide and off I went.

I’m a head and I know my way around inside a trip. There are levels within hallucination. Level zero is the mundane reality we inhabit on a daily basis – I call this the shared human dimension, even though it’s obvious to me that we’re all carrying around our own realities in our minds. We agree that “this is real” and nothing usually challenges that. Level one is a small dose of LSD or mushrooms – enough to tweak your experience a tiny bit – enough to challenge your perspective but not enough to throw you into a mental loop. Level two is where the looping starts. Your mind begins to follow patterns and if it gets trapped in an interaction you can start having a bad trip. McKenna insists that bad trips are due to doses that are “too small.” I’m beginning to agree with him. Level three is where you begin to realize that the tide is stronger than your grip and you let go of the instinct to try to control your experience. It’s where you start to find out who you really are. Level four is a place I’ve only been a few times, usually via DMT or some combination of LSD and sleep deprivation. It’s the “bubble dimension” where I’m in a kind of cosmic petri dish and all my friends turn into Higher Intelligences who are guiding me to Wake Up. This is literally my experience and it’s oddly consistent through different trips.

This time, I got through the bubble dimension and into level five. I can’t say that I’ve ever been there before and certainly not to this extent. Yet, while I was there, I recognized it as a place I’ve always existed and a place I’ve always gone to one extent or another when I get high, even if it’s only smoking a little weed. The shared human dimension seemed like the most petty of cardboard constructions. I was flowing through a labyrinth of multiple higher dimensions. There was nothing concrete, only intention and energy. I was visited by words from no proper language: “Hatherhew” was a word that described the place, or my experience of the place, or perhaps my leftover resistance to the complete ego dissolution that the Higher Beings were inviting me to experience. “Tench” (while I believe it’s the name of a kind of fish in English, actually) described the experience I had with J: a complete touch, a full holding and understanding of the joy that comes from encountering and engaging a being separate from yourself while maintaining that separation.

The ecstasy of this experience completely destroyed me. I was not human any more. I was not the person I’ve known since my brain contained enough cells to achieve self-awareness. I had lost hold of my identity. I’d never had an identity. All that was left was this: I AM FEMALE.

I don’t think I’ve ever fully understood how the foundations of my gender boiled down before. There in the labyrinth of dimensions I finally got it. It’s as simple as this: the female contains the potential to create new universes – new dimensions – because she can create new human life inside her. The male is the catalyst. My husband and I have had some medical issues that have stopped us from having kids yet and I’ve been highly ambivalent about getting pregnant in any case. But here, in the labyrinth, I understood that this really was my sole purpose: I contain universes and they want to come into being. Further to that, I understood (rather than intuited) my role as having the ultimate power to choose and the responsibility to be my own doorkeeper. Males seduce; females choose. It’s imperative that a male know how to create a seduction because a female’s first instinct is always to say no – and the more experienced she becomes, the firmer that “no.” A female can resist a seduction easily if it’s inept but a good seduction leads her into a quandary that can only be resolved adequately by having sex and making babies. Without the male, she would not feel that biological urge to reproduce so strongly and the species would falter. Seduction, thus, is poetry. Strip away everything we think we know about being human, and the only thing left that matters is sex.

At the turntables, A was still spinning beats that had sex woven all through them. He’s a legendary ladies’ man with a voracious sexual appetite and he knows the power his music has to grab a woman by the crotch. Between him at the decks and J on the couch, I felt the two of them near me in the labyrinth like the spinning twin centers of an animated Julia set. Inviting, inviting, inviting. I became suddenly aware that this was more than just the platonic love I’d been experiencing up until then – it was proper seduction.

I have never felt so thoroughly seduced in my life. In the shared human dimension I was limp and ragged and noncommunicative and probably pretty unattractive, but in the labyrinth I laughed easily and indicated no, no, nooooo...but that I was so flattered. The seduction ramped up to another level and I hit the nitrous again and again. I was grinding away my own defenses even as the internal inconsistency became a loop that wracked itself tighter and tighter. I was standing on a razor’s edge and this was the highest art, to just maintain it while pushing it as far as I could. Here in the labyrinth this was a very good seduction and I was in a quandary. The call to let go of my defenses became an imperative and I faltered in my self-confidence. What if they were right? What if all of this had been a preparation and that the next step – the one that I yearned for – into the eternal continuum of the labyrinth could only be facilitated by entirely releasing my separation throughout the levels? My god, was I supposed to have group sex with these men?

No and no and no and no because my body still existed and the rules that governed that dimension thus still applied and they trumped all. The separation held. I heard A take a shower in the bathroom next door. I felt his naked physical presence calling to me and I felt my own refusal to heed that call. I heard the guys talking about my state of vulnerability but it was joking: nobody would actually cross that line. This, I suppose, is trust. I thought later on that perhaps I’d been irresponsible or undisciplined to engage in the line of action that put me into that kind of public trance, though it was highly enjoyable at the time. Even after I resurrected myself and began to move my body around the shared human dimension again, I was still struck dumb by sex. It was as if I had the word “FUCK” printed across my eyes, so that everywhere I looked I saw it. It was my constant companion for the next 18 hours or so; everyone I looked at, male or female, was a potential partner. Sex dripped from the walls of the house. The smell of my own body seemed to radiate an invitation that my actions and words would not back up. The quandary persisted for at least 24 hours before my state of constant arousal began to wane.

Exp Year: 2008	ExpID: 75715
Gender: Female
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Jan 6, 2013	Views: 9,312
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