|>> || 1406340007998.png -(2136383 B, 1781x1000) Thumbnail displayed, click image for full size. |
>Why is it seemingly only some of us?
I sometimes suspect it's because I'm a really analytical person. I'm studying English literature, and I'm used to reading really closely and finding the hidden meaning in things- but I also do so with movies, television shows, and similar things reflexively.
So when I'm tripping, this tends to bleed through in the form of me taking a figurative step back and trying to consider what I'm seeing or feeling, in the context of it being an illusion thrown up in part by my unconscious mind. As I consider what insights I could glean from these concerning my own psyche, worries and desires and so forth, the trip starts to react to these thoughts, and throws up more impressions and images and feelings and so on that expand and build on the conclusions I reach from my reflexive analysis.
And then I reflexively analyse THOSE, and the end result is that I end up in a sort of feedback loop, with these deeply personal and internal hallucinations and feelings growing more elaborate and intense the more I think about them, and the more the trip approaches the peak. If you've seen the movie Inception, you might remember that one of the rules they lay down for when building dreams is not to recreate places from your past, because they're too personal, and it's the easiest way to forget you're dreaming. I think it's kind of like that- since the compoundingly complex hallucinations and delusions I've been accumulating during the trip have sort of been naturally-selected on the basis of what resonates most powerfully and symbolically with me, and on some level I'm AWARE of how personally meaningful they are, I fall into the trap of equating 'meaningful' with 'true', or 'right', and slip gradually into a state where this carefully built-up trip narrative becomes my truth, and my psychedelic-muddled mind accepts it as what is real.
All in all, it's a colossally cathartic experience. Experiencing your entire belief structure and your preconceived notions of what is objectively correct being broken down and rebuilt in the shape of an intricate and meaningful, but most certainly false, fantasy reality is enormously eye-opening. Until psychedelics, I could never have really understood how it feels to be made to believe in something untrue, take it as self-evident fact or a cosmic revelation, and then have the curtain lifted from your eyes and see everything you previously believed in as false. I feel that it's quite a healthy mental exercise to go through.
I've only been tripping for a couple of years or so, so I don't know how common it is (or at least how common on my kind of dosage), but as I approach the peak on a given psychedelic, my perceptions become fantastically malleable, and subject to the whims and fancies of the trip's narrative. On the peak, I've had coherent two-sided conversations with extraplanar deities manifesting in still images on television screens, experienced and perceived arriving in a magenta-skied desert with strange nomadic shamans (I've never been to an actual desert in my life) or navigating through alien cities without ever leaving the sofa, and listened to my friends having a conversation but clearly and distinctly heard them saying completely different things to what they were actually saying. Things that related to the trip-narrative I was currently experiencing, when there was no real way they could have known what I was seeing.
Pic related. It was just the wallpaper on my friend's laptop that we agreed to hook up to the television screen, because we liked the way the colours moved, and electric sheep was being a bit too intense for us one day. Two trips later, and I was already both fascinated and slightly disturbed by the emotional hold this picture now has over me. This is the deity-manifesting-in-the-picture I mentioned. If he/she had a name (I got the impression it was genderless, though presenting itself to me as female- ironically, I looked it up, and the artist says the spirit in the picture is male), I've forgotten it, but it was part of a whole pantheon of entities that I perceived trying to reach me during the trip, as my soul was actually their former king usurped and trapped in a mortal vessel on a different plane- and that if I could transcend, I could reclaim my throne as lord over their realm of beautiful madness. I can recall images of sprawling pyramidal palaces of vaguely Mayan or Inca architecture, male from grey stone that glistened like silver, rising into an electric blue sky with swirling yellow stars, above a tropical jungle populated by revelling spirits and shifting alien creatures in a constant state of celebration.
Comment too long. Click here
to view the full text.