Table of contents

• Storytime

• DMT the Psychedelic
• What you came here for

Prologue

One year ago I decided to take a break from my formal education. I didn't feel hindered in continuing, but was simply glad to have a pause in pointing my nose toward the books. You see, in Norway, a year-long intermission from one's studies does not belong in the pile of occasional odd decisions. That which inevitably catches up to the learning youth, had found me as well. I had come to hate school. 

I guess my aversion toward the academic had first sprouted when I graduated from middle school. Finishing, my grades were the best among all the graduates, with As (6s in Norway) across the board except for in a couple of subjects. I had every reason to smile big at my prospects, which could only hold fortune for me, right? And yet I didn't. I got the feeling that all I had done up until that point was in vain, since at high school you start off with a blank slate. I had vastly over performed (who needs grades like that in middle school?) and now I had to start all over again. I told myself that a new beginning was always a fresh one, but clearly I didn't buy it. Would my efforts here be made obsolete as well? Why was my happiness relying on these numbers which are just mere symbols? You may say that my perspective was skewered, that clearly one gets to harvest from one's work later down the line. Sure, but it had dawned on me that this way I and everybody around me were living in the future. Going through our hardships in hope of that goodie. The carrot you first think awaits you after high school, then university, then years of work, then only when retirement comes. I had begun to realize this future-fugazy-fugazi-thingy wasn't planning to arrive. Well, my conviction was not of any articulated matter, mind you, but existed only as something simmering in the back of my head. So I continued with school as anybody.

And so my mood grew wearier by the day. It didn't help that the studies demanded mostly cramming of information and fixed methods, which I consider to be a low forms of knowledge as well as learning. Let the books memorize for you, so that your mind is free to tinker with images and ideas. Although, it is understandable that there is need for solid, concrete forms for us to be tested against if our learning is ever to be effectively measured and controlled. But still this mostly serves to fossilize the mind. And not only were my thoughts drying up. I also failed to see the use behind most of our subjects. In short, I was force-overloaded with details surrounding all kinds of stuff I felt were completely irrelevant to me.

So when I finally saw the end of high school, my grades had dipped and I had also lost myself along the way. I was no longer that playful and effortless child to whom things came with ease. My mind was now as the methods I had been exposed to: rigid, concrete, critical and controlling. Something had to be done about this. I decided that I would spend the next year trying to regain what had went missing. I simply couldn't go on living by a serious, nitpicky, future-is-all mindset. It was suffocating me. Only problem was, I had no idea of what I was looking for! Or what I had to do to achieve this. I knew I had been different before, but felt like I had been a dry rosin all my life. 

For god knows what reason, I was prompted to pursue meditation. I cannot for the life of me remember how came to conclude this to be the right path, only that I did indeed begin the practice about one year ago. I can however recall my first attempt at it quite well. I had turned off the lights and was sitting in my sofa. No special leg placement, my feet were just contently resting on the carpet beneath. With no real idea behind what I was supposed to do (except for a couple of YT vids), I simply closed my eyes and tried quieting my mind. And since I was fully aware of my total noobness, I had no expectations whatsoever. Which I guess was key to what happened next. I don't know how long into it I was, when I noticed something odd had happened. I wasn't there anymore! I had simply vanished! The chattering baboon which had been ceaselessly interrupting had gone and now the world was silent. And beautiful! In this silence the fog had disappeared and I was seeing everything clearly. At least that was how it felt. Also, even though my focus right then and there was on my breathing, I wasn't controlling it. Usually when I became conscious of my breath, I would start to manually do it. Somewhat involuntary voluntary. Now I was just observing. Until I got excited and fucked it up.

To put mildly, I was baffled. At my very first try I had made it. I was convinced this was the right direction to continue in. Now it was time to double the effort! Little did I know, that by taking this forceful stance toward my meditation, I was in reality getting further away from my goal. And it took me a looong time to figure this out. Defined within a one-year time frame, of course. Anyway, in my silly attempt of honing my skills, I used to watch videos from this YouTube channel. And one day there had been uploaded a video about the use of DMT, which the creator of the channel had been taking in order to experience complete ego-death and oneness with the universe. I didn't know exactly what that entailed, only that this was the destination my practice had been pushing me toward, and that "that first-attempt-moment" (and those after it) had been somewhere between the daily life default mode and the end of the spectrum described in the video.

To say the least, I was hooked at the idea of short-cutting what I imagined was going to be years of consistent discipline. I started researching the hell out of this magical substance: what it was, where it could be found, its history, the effects from taking it, etc. Hours and hours. I have no clue of how many trip reports I've read. The will had made up its mind, and now I had to actually get some. Which I finally managed to in the end.

DMT the Psychedelic

First thing you need to know about substance: its not a narcotic. In no way does it incapacitate you or dull your senses. There is no high to be gotten here. Although you probably want to lie down, you'll still be feeling clear-headed and sober throughout. Now, with that out of the way, let's move on.

Source

The word Psychedelic is made from the Ancient Greek words psychē (ψυχή, "soul") and dēloun (δηλοῦν, "to make visible, to reveal"). Users tend to report strong hallucinations as well as the feeling of having their mind-fog lifted. This was roughly the first snippet of information I came across regarding this substance, which then made up my first impression of it. Descriptions like these encouraged me to move on, but to really dare walk the line I needed to know one essential thing: was it safe?

And oh boy. What I then discovered blew my mind away. I learned there are strong reasons to believe that nn-DMT (the most frequently used version of the substance) is actually secreted from our own pineal gland! Firstly, the organ has all the ingredients needed to execute the relatively straightforward chemical reactions to make DMT. Secondly, scientists have detected the substance in that of rats. So, for the sake of progress I was willing to believe that the human brain indeed does regulate this stuff naturally. Next I had to know whether or not one could overdose on DMT. Apparently, one have to take about 165 times the amount of an effective dose to even to be considered as one entering the danger zone. It is usually smoked (vaporized), and there is not a single person on the planet able to inhale this much. Practically speaking, it's easier to overdose on water! Considering the substance has an extremely short halftime from the second it is biologically active, I would argue (non-conclusively) that there is even more weight behind the claim that our brains deals with DMT on a regular basis and knows what it's doing. A trip usually only last about ten minutes, which compared to most other psychedelics is immensely short. LSD for example, takes hours to leave the brain.

As far as DMT's effects on the brain, not too much is known. Brain scans have shown that when under the influence of the substance, the areas which make up the default mode network have their activity greatly decreased. This basically translates to less thinking and reduced self-consciousness. Anxiety is reported to shrink as a result of this. Furthermore, DMT has also been linked to proteins whose job is to preserve memory, neuroplasticity, as well as stimulating the creation of new neurons! Lastly, one does not build any long-term tolerance from this substance. The same amount of DMT will always produce the same levels of intensity, as long as you take a one-hour-break between trips. 

I should also mention that DMT is the psychoactive substance in ayahuasca, which is the indigenous brew made by shamans from native populations of South America. They have been drinking it for millennia.

Fisch goes Tripping

Source

First Glimpse

Finally, the plan had come together. MWAHAHA. Well, almost. Though the DMT had indeed arrived and was being safely stored in a jar, I did have some doubts about the device which I planned to administer the powdery treasure with. While most accounts concerning the ins and outs of DMT where mentioning things like bottles, bongs and genies for smoking, I had bought a stationary vaporizer. With this thing I hoped to bypass the need of a lighter, in addition to getting perfectly vaporized, unburnt DMT. An expensive gamble, really.

Not knowing what I was doing, I had to try a few angles of attack before I got it right. An avalanche of fails followed. I had sort of lost hope when I late at night loaded the chamber with some dried basil and rosemary (just what could be found in the kitchen) together with some DMT. Neither did I have a scale, so I don't know how much powder was taken. Turned out to be very little. So, not really believing this was going to work, I casually sat down in an armchair as I fired up the vape. Indifferent and disappointed, watching a YouTube video. Inhale. Hold for ten seconds. Let go(cough).  Repeat.

Bzzzzzzzzzzz. Off in the distance, a high pitched sound. Getting higher. Louder. I was rubbing my eyes. Am I really seeing this? The faces in the video were warping. YES! It it working! I got up and plunged onto the sofa. I'm ready to trip, baby! Sadly, that was as far out as I would get that evening. So I went to bed. Needless to say though, my courage was renewed and I was looking forward to the next day.

Second Attempt

I waited until the afternoon. I sat down in the armchair. The chamber had been filled up with more than yesterday. I will take it all. No matter what. Now I didn't feel very bold anymore. Since I knew it would work, doubts had begun entering my mind. My hand was shaking as I moved the bag toward my mouth. My breathing uneven. In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out.

I wanted to cough. I begun to feel quite sick. As the last bit was emptied, the world became almost unrecognizable, turning into thousands of geometrical shapes. Then came the horror. My ego, everything that made up "me", started to melt away. Not knowing where it could run to, my "head-voice" initiated a thought loop I couldn't get out of. It was HELL. What happened next I don't remember. Only that I at some point forced myself out of it and stood up. I almost fell flat forward; I hadn't come down yet. What the fuck am I doing? I promised myself I would never touch this stuff again. Though, despite the stress and guilt for having done something "obviously insane", my head was unexpectedly clear for the rest of that day.

The Tunnel

I had been seriously thinking about throwing the rest of the jar in the trash. I never expected the experience to be like that, even after having gone through all those trip reports. Could never have anticipated the nightmare. No amount of words can prepare you for this. But, as you know, I didn't get rid of the DMT, but instead had another go at it some days later. I had been reflecting upon the ordeal, and concluded that I should really try again. If only once. I reassured myself that nothing severe could truly happen to me, and I would be down on earth again after 15 minutes. I felt confident about this even though I only had one real trip under my belt so far. The ego dissolution shouldn't now take me completely by surprise either. I hoped. When the time had come, I was lying down in the sofa. My nerves were still killing me, but I proceeded regardless. After the routine was gone and the bag emptied, the same effects as last time started to take place: the world slowly went kaleidoscopic. Then, suddenly, it was spinning. The visuals quickly became too much. I closed my eyes. The spinning continued behind my eyelids!

Suddenly I found myself travelling through a tunnel. And while all these visuals were occurring, the feeling of my ego disintegrating was there. This time it attempted to hide behind the breath, and so my breathing became somewhat uncomfortable. Luckily, it subsided. As I was venturing through the hole, something absolutely magical hit me. It was as if a wave of pure concepts were entering my mind, at ever increasing speeds. I could hold and manipulate the very fabric of ideas, pulling them apart and putting them together in new, unimagined ways. They were just mere toys, and I was the genius pulling the strings. Pretty incredible. Soon, when the effects went away, I was simply lying on my back with a big smile on my face. Exactly what I had hoped for and counted on way back.

Breakthrough

The scale still hadn't arrived and so I had begun using one "chopstick-scoop" as the standard unit of measure. One scoop makes me feel thiiis waaay. Two scoops had those effects. Worked well enough. Anyway, this time I upped the number of scoops and was ready to reach the infamous Breakthrough stage. I had big hopes. Would I enter another world? Would I encounter some kinds of entities? Might I meet God? Perhaps I would become God? These were among the descriptions I had read about during my dissection of various trip reports. To say the least, I was pretty fucking hyped. And just moderately nervous compared to the previous rounds. Ok. Lying on the sofa. Again came the tunnel, only this time it didn't last very long. In just seconds, I found myself at the end.

A room made out of diamond-like fractals had manifested itself, and in it were... children and toys?! What?! Initially, as I arrived, they were sleeping on the floor. However they woke at my coming and suddenly began playing and making merry. One of them was riding a tricycle. Another one juggling. I swear, had I met children like these in the real world, I would surely have mistaken them for something else. Their mosaic looks certainly didn't make them look like cute, little toddlers.

There was however an atmosphere of innocence and youth, which overwhelmed all my other feelings. They seemed so at ease with the world they lived in. To them, everything was an effortless game. And so I realized that they were not only children, but also deities shaping the world in their playing. They were weaving together my consciousness. I just knew this to be true, don't ask me how. Nothing was outside of what their abilities could divine. And in the middle of all this magic, I couldn't help but feel like this wasn't at all the final destination. The playroom was merely a waiting hall. A filter and a test to be passed. But how? I was coming down. The world gave way to darkness. Oddly enough, the last thing I saw was a jester who popped out from nowhere a couple of times. He was making fun of me. The room collapsed and soon I was looking into the black backside of my eyelids. Sigh. And I was laughing really, really hard. Was it all a joke?

Enlightenment

Back in the chair this time. Dose was 25 mg (finally got the scale!). I broke through. The jester had been waiting for me, ready to point out my overly serious attitude with ugly grimaces and dancing. I started to feel uncomfortable and alone. Then, suddenly appeared a strange being with a frog-like face. He was occupying my entire field of view, even though he was small enough to sit on my shoulder. He spoke. A language without words. I tried to think up a response, but that only made him go silent. So I shut up. Then he was speaking again. He told me the deepest truth about everything. And it was hilarious! Thinking about it now makes me laugh: really? That's it?! You can't be serious? Then came the jester again, ready to continue with the mocking. Only this time he was different. He was falling apart and before I could think about it, I jumped right through him and was then situated in a some kind of darkness. The only colour came from the aurora I was floating on. Then it happened. A wave of euphoria breezed through my body, gentle and warm. It filled me up and washed away my ego. The verbal me had ceased, and what was left was pure perception. Effortless. All-seeing. I sat in observation of my body and the world around me for a few minutes. When I got up and walked, it was equally effortless. As if a force was moving me around, acting out my will. Being enlightened was the the easiest thing in the world! Although it didn't last, it definitively left its mark.

Source DMT has helped me become like a child again.
Ok. That's enough text for one post. Let me know what you think in the comments below. Would you like to hear more some other time?