1154 lines
64 KiB
Plaintext
1154 lines
64 KiB
Plaintext
( This is long detailed description of the affects of Morning Glory
|
|
seeds, which I hope Ya'all will find interesting. if you'd rather
|
|
read about whether smoking in ones car causes more accidents, or
|
|
flame Ed, hit 'n' now)
|
|
|
|
Seeing as there were a few questions on Morining Glory seeds, and seeing
|
|
As I *have* tried them, I thought I'd pass along some tips I've garnered
|
|
on consuming them, as well as a description of the high.
|
|
|
|
Earlier this year, I downloaded the 'Natutal-High' FAQ. The description
|
|
of Morning Glory seeds, as well as earlier discussion about them on the
|
|
net (last year some people described their experiences with them) prompted
|
|
me to take them. (I've never tried LSD, and the FAQ said that the seeds
|
|
constained LSA, some sort of chemical cousin of LSD. This added further
|
|
impetus to my desire to try them.)
|
|
|
|
Based on my own empirical testing of the commonly available MG seeds,
|
|
the ones labeled 'Heavenly Blue' are the ones you want. The other seed
|
|
types seemed to have little physchoative affect. I purchased the seeds
|
|
from two different companies Northrop King (NK), where the seed origin
|
|
is Holland, and Olds, which grows their seed here in my hometown (Madison
|
|
WI.). The easiest time to find MG seeds (or most other commonly sold seeds)
|
|
is in the Spring, when they are sold at supermarkets, hardware stores, etc.
|
|
|
|
Play it safe. Before you consume the seeds, wash them. This is not to
|
|
prevent nausea, because even untreated MG seeds are probably going to make
|
|
you feel sick. The LSA, and the chemicals that make you feel sick are all
|
|
there *because* the plant does not want you eating its seeds. Washing them
|
|
removes any dirt and fungacides which may be on the seeds - things
|
|
you probably don't want to eat.
|
|
|
|
I used a strainer (the kind used for noodles) to clean the seeds. Place
|
|
all the seeds in the strainer and run luke warm water over them for a minute
|
|
or two. You might want to use a little dishwashing liquid too. After washing
|
|
them, its time to consume them. The FAQ said LSA is water soluble, so ideally
|
|
you would grind up the seeds (a pepper grinder works well) and soak them in
|
|
water. Soak the seeds for an hour or two. Strain the water through a coffee
|
|
filter and drink the blackish-green water. Alas, in my own experience
|
|
(described below) the effect of the seeds is much stronger if you actually
|
|
drink the ground up seeds with the water.
|
|
|
|
I've tried MG seeds on three occasions, all within a two week period a
|
|
about a month ago. The first time a friend and I consumed five 1.5 gram
|
|
packs between us. We ground up the seeds and put them in tea bags, which
|
|
we soaked in hot water for about 10 minutes. After a few hours we both
|
|
concluded that they had done little for us. We both just felt a liitle
|
|
'weird' for a few hours. On the up side, neither of us felt sick after
|
|
drinking our 'tea'.
|
|
|
|
Being the stubborn person that I am (I am a programmer after all ;-) )
|
|
I was determined to see if there was anything to MG seeds. On the second
|
|
occasion I consumed six 1.2 ounce packs of seeds. On this occasion
|
|
I ground up the seeds and put soaked them in some water for about an hour.
|
|
I then drank the entire mess. In anticipation of feeling sick, I hopped
|
|
on my bicycle (it was a cold spring night) and rode around the city. I
|
|
had been hoping that the bike riding would keep my mind off any sickness.
|
|
|
|
I started to feel sick after about half an hour. It started to get real
|
|
bad (the nausea) after 45 minutes. I had brought some pot with me just in
|
|
case, and after smoking a little almost all the nausea went away.
|
|
Unfortunatley, I was now high, so I could't really observe the MG seeds
|
|
as they came on :-). After about an hour I still felt nothing (besides being
|
|
high) and concluded prematurely that the seeds had done nothing. However,
|
|
As I was riding home, I began to feel *real* weird. My field of view seemed
|
|
to expand, and the entire sky looked enourmous. The bike ride home was
|
|
fantastic. I really can't explain the high -- I now understand why people
|
|
say you can't describe LSD to people who have never used it. The affects
|
|
wore off after about four hours, but I had a lot of trouble sleeping
|
|
that night.
|
|
|
|
On the third occasion I was with my brother. This time I tried NINE
|
|
1.5 gram packs of ONLY heavenly blue seeds. Note that on the other two
|
|
times I had mixed different types of seeds. My brother tried only other
|
|
varieties of seeds. Again I ground up the seeds, soaked them in some water,
|
|
and drank the entire mix. This was to be the start of a huge, often
|
|
unenjoyable trip for me. My brother (who *has* tried acid) said that he
|
|
felt very little (that's why I recommend the Heavenly Blue seeds), but
|
|
that what he did feel was like the end of an acid trip.
|
|
|
|
About an hour after eating the seeds, I began to feel sick. (we ate
|
|
the seeds at about eight at night). I would feel sick on and off during the
|
|
entire trip until about six in the morning, when I finally blew chunks. This
|
|
did not, however, end the trip.
|
|
|
|
The affects of the high/trip came on very gradually, over some hours.
|
|
After staying with my brother for a few hours, I decided to try to bike home.
|
|
This was something of a mistake. Riding home was difficult, as everything
|
|
seemed strange and alien. I ride my bike a lot (I don't own a car) yet
|
|
even my bike seemed foreign -- I had trouble telling where my body ended
|
|
and the bike began. I also started experiencing visual hallucinations --
|
|
I saw red and green lights and my vision seemed soft and fuzzy. As cars passed
|
|
by me, their headlights seemed to shine through the back of my head. I also
|
|
started to get *real* paranoid and self-conscious.
|
|
|
|
When I got to my apartment, I saw that my roommate was still up. I was
|
|
feeling so weird and paranoid that I felt I couldn't deal with talking to him.
|
|
So I wandered around my neighborhood late at night on my bike, paranoid
|
|
sick and tripping. That part was truly awfull. I began to worry that
|
|
that the seeds had been treated with Mercury and that I had permanently
|
|
lost my mind. After what seemed like days (actually only about an hour) I
|
|
returned to my apartment, where to my relief I found my roommate had gone
|
|
to bed. Feeling I might throwup, I went to the bathroom. In the mirror I
|
|
noticed that my pupils were fully dialated, and I spent several hours looking
|
|
at myself in the mirror. Near the end of this time the skin all over my
|
|
body seemed to be moving and crawling as I looked at it. This scared me
|
|
pretty bad, so I went to my room to try to sleep. (I still don't know whether
|
|
or not my skin was actually crawling, but it sure looked like it.)
|
|
|
|
I coulnd't sleep - my bed, the room, everything was wrong. Also, I
|
|
kept seeing these strange lights - not really in the room, but more inside
|
|
myself. Some of them were pretty ornate and seemed to be moving. This
|
|
may sound cool, but it was *extremely* unpleasant. At that time I would
|
|
have given anything to stop the experience and roll over and go to bed.
|
|
Around 6:00 in the morning I finally hurled, but I still felt weird. The
|
|
REALLY STUPID thing was that I did this during a weekday, and I had to
|
|
go to work the next day. Not having slept at all, I went into work still
|
|
feeling pretty shook up, but I made it through the day.
|
|
|
|
Overall it was a pretty nasty experience. I guess you'd say I had a
|
|
bad trip. On the plus side, I did have a few interesting thoughts.
|
|
The old philosophical mind/body problem seemed to become a non-problem.
|
|
At one point while I was looking at myself in the mirror, and struggling
|
|
with my nausea, the sick feeling suddenly became entirely a mental phenomena.
|
|
I came to see my body as a mental thing, merely an extension or lower
|
|
part of my entire being. This was something I actually experienced, not
|
|
just an intellectual realization. So rather than having ones mind a product
|
|
of the body/brain it seemed just the opposite to me.
|
|
|
|
Also, I found myself thinking about the quote from (I think) Socrates
|
|
which goes something something like 'All I know is that I know nothing'.
|
|
I know this may sound sophomoric, but the truth of this statement dumb-
|
|
founded me. All our knowledge of 'things' or phenomena is ultimately
|
|
relative, referring to other things or phenomena. Science is just
|
|
a more rigorous way of classifying/observing/predicting things. But
|
|
ultimately we remain completely stupid -- we can never know what something
|
|
is. This seemed a fundamental truth, no matter how advanced we ever get
|
|
technologically. The world seemed like a very crazy, random, chaotic place -
|
|
like a giant zoo, with everybody living in it for completely different
|
|
reasons. These thoughts really depressed me at the time.
|
|
|
|
Phew. Well, this has gotten long. In conclusion, I don't know if I'll
|
|
ever try MG seeds again. The length of my last experience with them, plus
|
|
the nausea and depression outweighed the positive aspects of it. If MG
|
|
seeds are at all like LSD (which I haven't tried), its probably easier
|
|
just to stick to acid. However, if you do try them, I'd recommend taking
|
|
no more than six 1.5 gram packs of seeds.
|
|
|
|
Regards,
|
|
|
|
-Eric theboo@saavik.cs.wisc.edu
|
|
theboo@picard.cs.wisc.edu
|
|
|
|
=============================================================================
|
|
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.drugs
|
|
From: an19563@anon.penet.fi (Aqualung)
|
|
Subject: my night on morning glory seeds
|
|
Message-ID: <1993Apr27.054150.6003@fuug.fi>
|
|
Date: Mon, 26 Apr 1993 18:58:06 GMT
|
|
|
|
After reading the FAQ and seeing another article on morning glory seeds I got
|
|
off the new archive, I wanted to try them. Well last Friday night I had
|
|
nothing to do. My buddy I usually hang out with was out of town and I was
|
|
looking at a very boring evening. So I decided, "what the hell," and I went
|
|
to the local supermarket and bought five 1.8 gram packs of Heavenly Blue
|
|
morning glory seeds. I wanted to grind them up and put them in water, but I
|
|
don't have a pepper grinder so I dumped the five packs into a baggie, took my
|
|
hammer and attempted to smash them outside on a tree stump. Well, of course,
|
|
the bag simply broke and seeds started to scatter. I don't think I lost a
|
|
substantial amount, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I just said, "f--k it," and
|
|
chewed the seeds. It was about 9 pm at this point. As I was chewing the
|
|
seeds, a friend dropped by with some alcohol. "Cool," I thought, at least
|
|
I'll have some company now. This friend also informed me that he had tried
|
|
morning glory seeds once and had only gotten sick to his stomach with no
|
|
psycadelic effect. But no, I wouldn't be daunted that easily.
|
|
|
|
Before I go on to describe the effects of the seeds, I feel the need to say
|
|
that I've never tried acid, but I have eaten shrooms on several occasions. So
|
|
all my comparisons will be to shrooms. Well, my friend and I made some fairly
|
|
strong margaritas and were sitting outside on the lawn smoking and drinking.
|
|
After about an hour and 2 margaritas (probably about 4 shots of tequila) I
|
|
started to feel really, really stoned. I felt like I'd done a few bong hits
|
|
of really good kind bud and drank a few beers along with it. My limbs were
|
|
really heavy, I kind of felt like I was moving in slow motion, you know, a
|
|
good high. At this point I lost track of time so I can't say how long things
|
|
took at this point except for the couple of times I looked at a clock.
|
|
|
|
After sitting out on the lawn a while more, we got cold and went inside. I
|
|
lied back on the couch and started staring at the ceiling. At this point it
|
|
felt like shrooms do when they start coming on. I have really great textured
|
|
walls and ceilings where I live that produce great effects when tripping. So
|
|
I watched the ceiling ripple and watched the ridges sway and move about a
|
|
bit. Let me point out that the hallucinations were very mild. It only felt
|
|
like the beginnings of a mushroom trip and nothing like I understand acid to
|
|
be. It was definately pleasent though. Although it was to a lesser degree
|
|
than shrooms, I got the feeling I always get that everything is perfect and
|
|
in its place and exactly as it should be. Well it turns out that this would
|
|
be the height of my "trip."
|
|
|
|
I got tired of staring at the ceiling fairly quickly, (something that doesn't
|
|
happen on shrooms) and my friend and I moved into my bedroom where we started
|
|
watching some TV. After a little TV I felt that I was beginning to come down.
|
|
I got this incredible desire to watch The Wall, so at about midnight I put
|
|
the tape in. I've watched The Wall when coming down from shrooms and I know
|
|
that the coming down period lasts much longer then it takes to finish the
|
|
movie. But the seeds had pretty much worn off by about 3/4 of the way
|
|
through. (Somewhere around Comfortably Numb.) It was probably somewhere
|
|
between 1 and 1:30 at that point.
|
|
|
|
Well the rest of the night isn't worth telling. Nothing more exciting
|
|
happened. Although I will point out two things. I was very restless after the
|
|
seeds wore off. I was wide awake and ready to go do something. Also,
|
|
apparently the seeds hadn't completely worn off until I woke up the next day.
|
|
For right before I finally went to bed at about 7 am, I stopped and looked at
|
|
my couch intensely for a bit. After a few seconds of staring, lo and behold
|
|
the fabric of my couch starting rippling and wavering and generally shifting
|
|
around. So some remnant of the seeds were still in my system ten hours after
|
|
I initially ate them.
|
|
|
|
My final analysis of the seeds is that they were worth doing. The seeds cost
|
|
me $5. In relation to other drugs they probably don't provide as much bang
|
|
for the buck. But I haven't been able to get my hands on any acid or shrooms
|
|
recently. And that $5 provided more entertainment than alcohol or a movie or
|
|
anything of that sort. What it felt like was a very mild shroom trip. In
|
|
fact, it was very similar to the time I ate shrooms two nights in a row and
|
|
the second night was very mild. The main difference from a mild shroom trip
|
|
was that I didn't get quite the same "warm fuzzy" feeling. There were a few
|
|
times of mild anxiety with the seeds. I think I'm going to try the seeds
|
|
again but I will increase the dosage. I'm a little wary of doing this,
|
|
though, because both sources I have from the net recommend no more than 9 or
|
|
10 grams, which is what I ate. Maybe I'll try 6 or 7 packs next time.
|
|
|
|
Oh yeah, one more thing. I suffered no nausia (sp?). The only side effect was
|
|
some pretty nasty diaharrea (sp?). But even that was short lived, it was gone
|
|
by the time I woke up the next morning.
|
|
|
|
Well, that's all. Have fun.
|
|
|
|
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
|
|
I took the one less travelled by,
|
|
And that has made all the difference.
|
|
-Robert Frost
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi.
|
|
Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized,
|
|
and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned.
|
|
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to admin@anon.penet.fi.
|
|
*IMPORTANT server security update*, mail to update@anon.penet.fi for details.
|
|
|
|
=============================================================================
|
|
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.drugs
|
|
From: kaz@iastate.edu (Errington Shroud)
|
|
Subject: Morning Glory seeds are the work of the devil...
|
|
Message-ID: <kaz.734000886@du139-216.cc.iastate.edu>
|
|
Date: Mon, 5 Apr 1993 09:08:06 GMT
|
|
|
|
I just thought I would relate a brief personal experience with Morning
|
|
Glory. This is not my first negative experience, but this was by far
|
|
the worst.
|
|
|
|
10:00pm Washed off store bought seeds (in a vain attempt to remove any
|
|
fungicide). Started to grind them
|
|
|
|
10:45pm With a very, very tired arm, I was done grinding them. I put
|
|
them in water and let them soak, stirring occasionally. Took
|
|
1 dramamine.
|
|
|
|
11:30pm Poured the liquid through a coffee filter, then drank it. It didn't
|
|
taste or smell badly.
|
|
|
|
12:30pm Felt a little buzz, and a little sick.
|
|
|
|
1:30pm Visited my friend, the toilet. Felt slightly better, went back
|
|
to my room.
|
|
|
|
1:45pm Dropped by to visit the toilet again.
|
|
|
|
4:00pm Still at the somewhat strange looking toilet, drinking water
|
|
so I could have something to puke. Dry heaving had grown old...
|
|
|
|
5:00pm Fell asleep, hoping I would not choke on my own vomit.
|
|
|
|
|
|
It's been about a week, and my digestive system has still not fully recovered.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Just thought I'd give an experience to those thinking to try it.... :)
|
|
|
|
|
|
Jeff "Kaz" Kaczmarek
|
|
|
|
--
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Jeff "Kaz" Kaczmarek (kaz@iastate.edu)
|
|
"The future is long past forgotten, when you're on the road to madness!"
|
|
-Geoff Tate (Queensryche)
|
|
|
|
=============================================================================
|
|
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.drugs
|
|
From: an17016@anon.penet.fi
|
|
Subject: What I did Last Monday - By FwapNimmer SmapKnockle
|
|
Message-ID: <1993Apr13.210634.25267@fuug.fi>
|
|
Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1993 20:33:26 GMT
|
|
|
|
A slight uncertainty arises as to where to start my explanation of
|
|
this experience, because it eventually seemed to have found root in events
|
|
months before it actually took place. Nonetheless, I will do my best to
|
|
accurately describe the facts in rough chronological order, and to denote any
|
|
comments that I am adding as hindsight, as opposed to events/thoughts of the
|
|
time. I expect that I'll still be remembering things that I left out for a
|
|
few weeks after I finish this file, but I hope it's relatively thorough. This
|
|
may read a little choppily, because as I remember new things, I have to pick
|
|
where to place an account of them, but do your best - I'm posting this so that
|
|
the alt.drugs.veterans can anylize this experience to death. It was
|
|
unbelievably powerful, and I'd like to hear as much as I can about it. I came
|
|
out of it with a wonderful outlook on life, partly because of the realizations
|
|
I had about my life and the problems with it, party because I felt that I had
|
|
found the answers to most of those problems, and partly because I was still
|
|
alive at the end of it all.
|
|
|
|
My recreational legal drug use had never produced what I would refer
|
|
to as a "trip", but instead, a wide array of buzzes, nothings, highs, stones
|
|
and such. Mostly sensual experiences, with a dash of thought alteration,
|
|
basically. I longed to experience the altered perception and psychadelia
|
|
documented in so many books, posts, and files I had collected. I had always
|
|
prided myself in my habit of thoroughly researching a substance to the point
|
|
at which I could surprise almost anyone I met with a fact about it before I
|
|
would even consider ingesting it. I've always had very clear boundaries
|
|
between substances: those I do/would use if given the chance, those I avoid at
|
|
all costs, and those on which I have yet to gain enough information.
|
|
|
|
I had put D-lysergic acid amide on my list of substances on which I
|
|
had sufficient information to warrant experimentation, and apparently this was
|
|
either a premature assumption, or I made a few errors. Regardless, I ingested
|
|
7.2 grams of Heavenly Blue Morning Glory seeds, which should be approximately
|
|
280 seeds. This was done over the course of about 45 minutes, and I had
|
|
another 1.8 grams to round it off to 9 handy when the phone rang. The phone
|
|
conversation was more important to me than the last 70 seeds, so I talked.
|
|
About an hour later, at 9:45, I was tripping.
|
|
|
|
I couldn't decide whether to lie down on my bed or sit up on its edge,
|
|
and my constant motion was a bit of a problem to the phone conversation,
|
|
because the phone in my bedroom rattles when moved. To make things worse, I
|
|
couldn't stop trying to describe the breathing of the walls and the
|
|
multicolored mirrored spheres I saw spinning out to no end when I closed my
|
|
eyes. It was thoroughly breathtaking, and I was almost giddy by the time we
|
|
decided to hang up, about 3 minutes later. This left me free to watch the
|
|
happenings around me. The breathing walls were neat, and somewhat of a sign
|
|
to me that I had done it - this was to be a fun ride. But more profound were
|
|
the mirror balls. Closing my eyes produced a vision as if I were literally
|
|
surrounded by floating silver spheres which were slowly rotating around each
|
|
other, and reflecting far-off shapes of red, yellow, and green. I could have
|
|
watched them all night, but I had other plans.
|
|
|
|
I was still coherent enough to brush my teeth and wash my face, and I
|
|
did so. I went out into the living room to get my CD player, and carefully
|
|
returned to my room. My CD player hadn't been working consistently, but my
|
|
other choice was to carry my stereo down the hallway, and I didn't trust my
|
|
vision or coordination well enough for that. I expect that it still wasn't
|
|
working, but I was too far gone to care. Anyhow, I plugged in the player,
|
|
took off my shirt, carefully put the little Morning Glory bags into a drawer,
|
|
and searched for Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. It took me a long time
|
|
to focus on the CDs well enough to pick it out, but eventually located it. I
|
|
was unbelievably anxious to lie in my bed, close my eyes, and listen to my
|
|
music, and I remember smiling like an idiot through the entire preparation
|
|
process. When I had finished, I put out the lights, applied my headphones,
|
|
slipped into bed, and pressed "Play".
|
|
|
|
If only I had videotaped myself. I spent the following 42 minutes 57
|
|
seconds listening to one of my favorite albums as if I had never heard music
|
|
before, and freely associating every concept that came into my mind with every
|
|
other that I had pondered that evening. My thoughts were racing, and I seemed
|
|
to be pointing to them with various body parts as they passed me. I'm not
|
|
sure how to best convey this concept, but as I connected my thoughts, I
|
|
attempted to whisper them to myself, and they were speeding by at such a rate
|
|
that the only things I spoke were along the lines of "O.k.- and then- but
|
|
that means- so that- but- ha!- and- ha!" and I would preceed to emit a
|
|
whispered gasp of understanding, as if connecting these thoughts had explained
|
|
a major portion of my life. Occasionally, I would decide that it would be
|
|
best if I calmed down and slept, but that could only last for a few seconds,
|
|
for as I would begin to ponder the act of calming down to sleep, I would whirl
|
|
into another episode of free association.
|
|
|
|
Each of the connecting phrases I muttered (and then, but that means,
|
|
so that...) was accompanied by a physical movement. My movements had become
|
|
very smooth, things such as running my fingertips down my face, wrapping my
|
|
arms slowly around myself, bringing my knees up to a rough fetal position and
|
|
then back... All very fluid, smooth motions. But, when my thoughts were
|
|
jumping, each jump seemed to be accompanied by a single muscle moving, and
|
|
each of my limbs was accomplishing its current goal in motion by waiting for
|
|
one of its muscles to get its turn to move. At the time, I was only aware of a
|
|
singular sensation of motion that was felt first in a leg, then an arm, then a
|
|
foot, and such, but when I gasped with understanding at the end of my line of
|
|
thought, I would find my arms twisted into unnatural positions around my body
|
|
and each other. I occasionally took breaks for breath (I was gasping out all
|
|
these thoughts to myself, and my breathing was abnormal enough as it was
|
|
without trying to keep quiet) or to feel my face, shake my hair (it felt
|
|
different every time I did that, but it usually felt like only a comparatively
|
|
few thin flowing strands, and it was electrifying to feel it rub against my
|
|
back) and play with other sensual abnormalities of the trip. I was not tired
|
|
in the least, and this continued until the last track on the CD.
|
|
|
|
Apparently, I picked a bad time to try to settle down and sleep,
|
|
because at the moment I stopped thinking wildly, "Eclipse" began to play. I
|
|
had already been making seemingly astouding discoveries about everything I
|
|
knew, and anyone who knows the lyrics to Eclipse is aware of the connection
|
|
therein. Basically, I was now told that Everything I touch, see, taste, feel,
|
|
love, hate, distrust, save, give, deal, buy, beg, borrow, or steal, All I
|
|
create, destroy, do, say, eat, everyone I meet, all that I slight, everyone I
|
|
fight, all that is now, all that is gone, all that's to come, and everything
|
|
under the sun is in tune - but the sun is eclipsed by the moon. Awaiting that
|
|
ending, each line sobered me as I became very... wary. Not frightened, but
|
|
aware of the depth of the experience, I guess. I'm not certain how to
|
|
describe it, but I was laying there astonished at something, and when the song
|
|
ended, I very slowly and almost absentmindedly removed my headphones. My mind
|
|
was, in effect, blown.
|
|
|
|
From this point, my chronological order is likely to be less than
|
|
accurate. I honestly cannot recall what happened next, but I vaguely remember
|
|
the same sort of racing thought I had just expereinced, but more slowly. The
|
|
topics seemed to be drawing to a close, and not towards an end I wanted to
|
|
reach. I could do nothing to stop it, so I was forced to lie there and watch
|
|
my mind connect thoughts that I was just as willing to forget. The visuals at
|
|
this point were very vivid, but I regret that I cannot specifically explain
|
|
any of them. They were basically graphical representations of the thoughts I
|
|
was having. Finally, my thoughts had all been connected to form only a few
|
|
basic concepts which I preceeded to intertwine to form one. Suddenly,
|
|
everything was before me.
|
|
|
|
I felt as if I was faced with a choice. I could see a swirling
|
|
representation of everything that exists, interacting with everything else
|
|
that exists to form an everything that was itself as well as its parts. I
|
|
understood what this collection of things I saw in front of me represented -
|
|
it was an omniscience that COULD stem from the realizations I was having that
|
|
night. I had been lucky enough to be given the decision, apparently, but it
|
|
was not an easy one. I could either leap forward into the all-knowing mass of
|
|
everything before me, or make my way back to my home, and to this reality. I
|
|
felt as if understanding all there was to know would be a method of nullifying
|
|
my existence, because there would be nothing towards which to climb, but also
|
|
that returning to my reality was a "death" of some sort. I'm not certain what
|
|
it was that I feared, but I felt certain that I was risking death by
|
|
returning. (Perhaps I was seeing the omniscience as a form of immortality - I
|
|
do seem to remember a sense that it would be a connection with an all-powerful
|
|
consciousness)... I chose to return, although I do not recall actively making
|
|
the decision (I'm tempted to think that the drug was simply wearing off). I
|
|
do have a vague memory of visualizing all the thoughts I had intertwined
|
|
rapidly untangling, as I recursively regressed to the point at which I began -
|
|
my mind had many many different concepts to consider, and they were not all
|
|
connected. It was quite a bit of work to return, but eventually, I opened my
|
|
eyes, and saw my room.
|
|
|
|
Well, it was SORT of my room. Almost everything was out of place,
|
|
with the exception of the clock. The clock insisted on misbehaving, and I
|
|
often found that two checks of the clock that seemed to be in rapid succession
|
|
produced readings of 1:30 and then 1:55, for instance. My first goal was to
|
|
slow the clock down, or speed it up, whichever it happened to need, until it
|
|
was correct, so I could form some sort of an anchor to something roughly
|
|
tangible. Finally, when I was convinced that I was relatively back to
|
|
reality, I was brave enough to roll over and look at the floor.
|
|
|
|
There was my CD player, next to my headset, and the cord strewn over
|
|
the general vicinity. I reached for the cord, and touched nothing but carpet.
|
|
I looked again, and realized that I hadn't reached for the cord, but for part
|
|
of the sculpture of the carpet. Suddenly, the floor was different - I was
|
|
better oriented, I could see where the cord actually was. I pieced my room
|
|
back together this was, noting when my senses were and weren't correct, being
|
|
extremely proud over having changed something physically and having it remain
|
|
changed when I returned to it. The next step was my bed covers. The turning
|
|
and twisting I was doing over the course of my thoughts had twisted up my
|
|
sheets rather nicely, so I decided to untwist them. My sheets are covered
|
|
with irregular stripes, and in my current state, these were very misleading. I
|
|
untwisted completely four times before it was actually physically completely
|
|
untwisted. When I felt the bottom sheet form a consistantly flat covering
|
|
over me, I was even better oriented. It was now, I decided, well past time to
|
|
get up, use the bathroom, and get a drink.
|
|
|
|
I turned to my door. I reached out to grab its edge, but my hand
|
|
seemed to roll around a fourth side before I could see where the actualy three
|
|
I was concerned with were. I pulled, and was startled by a loud knocking
|
|
sound. I looked around, and noticed my hairbrush near the door's path. As a
|
|
reality check, I closed the door, mover the brush, and re-opened the door. It
|
|
did not knock. I was proud. I closed the door, stood up, and replaced my
|
|
clothing on my body. Feeling the sensations of fabric running along my skin
|
|
replaced much of my anchor in reality, also. I quietly opened the door again,
|
|
and walked down the hallway. I walked into the bathroom, and my perspectives
|
|
in there helped set me straight, because the bathroom was one of the last
|
|
rooms I visited before the LSA took. The shower curtain, the sink, the tile,
|
|
my sister's little jar of sea monkeys in the corner... They all seemed right,
|
|
and I knew I was closer. The only thing that startled me was the cloth above
|
|
me and to my left. I stared at the designs, though, and realized that my
|
|
mother had hung wet clothing over the curtain rod to dry, and this reminded me
|
|
that time had gone on even after I'd closed my bedroom door the evening
|
|
before. Things looked promising, but I was still in my own little altered
|
|
state, not actively noticing the things around me. I left the bathroom and
|
|
went further down the hallway to the kitchen.
|
|
|
|
Without filling in any details of the parts of the kitchen itself,
|
|
relevant to this action or not, I did nothing but the following: I got a
|
|
glassful of juice. It wasn't until I took a large drink that I realized
|
|
everything around me - and it was exactly as it should have been. The juice,
|
|
however, was not from the same fruit as that which I had been drinking with my
|
|
seeds, and the new taste surprised me - waking me to my surroundings. I was
|
|
quite impressed that this had such an effect, and I went around touching
|
|
things.. The dog's leash, the microwave, the table. I read a bit of the
|
|
newspaper. I had to get back to bed, I decided.
|
|
|
|
My room was still foreign, however, and I had some reality to set back
|
|
into place. I had made quite a few things in my room do what they should, but
|
|
I still could not form one clear picture of my surroundings. I spend the time
|
|
to come playing with objects, re-learning their tendencies, and interaction
|
|
with other objects. For instance, one of the more interesting was when I saw
|
|
my juggling bags on the floor. I picked one up, tossed it and caught it, and
|
|
finally decided to toss it off the edge of the bed. It landed on the ground
|
|
with a thud, and I became more aware of gravity, and where the floor was. I
|
|
played with my clock radio, making it pop with noise by turning on the radio
|
|
with no volume. I turned the light on and off a few times. I opened my door
|
|
and did the same, feeling it necessary that I was vulnerable to being "caught"
|
|
while doing this. (I would suggest that since I quite often have a very real
|
|
sense of where my family is, and whether or not they can discover me in any
|
|
act they would not approve of, I was attempting to create a little mild
|
|
paranoia to which I could relate).
|
|
|
|
Throughout this entire ordeal, there were a few things that recurred.
|
|
For isntance, When the room was particularly silent, I could hear my watch on
|
|
the bedside table. Its band has been broken for ages, and thus it's well
|
|
buried by other bedside table-type items, and I wasn't used to hearing it. In
|
|
order to concentrate on it, I would mutter "ticktickticktickticktickticktick".
|
|
I quite often looked myself over, to see how familiar I looked, and I
|
|
occasionally would find it necessary to sepecifically check the familiarity of
|
|
my genitals (with and without the door open). One of the strangest actions
|
|
was tickling my gag relfex. It wasn't as responsive as it usually would be,
|
|
and I think that the closer it came to responding as I was accustomed, the
|
|
closer I felt to reality. Occasionally, I would feel something unfamiliar,
|
|
like a 1mm thick disk, I think, and reach for it, but it would always fall
|
|
farther down my throat, and I felt as if I were curling my finger into my
|
|
throat, through my tounge, and back around in a full spiral. I finally
|
|
stopped this habit by staring into my throat via my mirror while doing this,
|
|
and at first my throat appeared as a terrifying cavern of death, but it
|
|
gradually became the back of my mouth as I remembered it. Rubbing my hand over
|
|
my face to confirm that it was the face I remembered would (naturally)
|
|
occasionally cause my hand to brush over my lips, and the feeling reminded me
|
|
of a specific intimate encounter of the past. Also, I noticed that my inner
|
|
lip produced a much more smooth sensation across my hand than I would expect
|
|
from saliva. Whatever I pictured myself doing, I would proceed to do, because
|
|
I knew that confirming the images in my mind was the only way to convince
|
|
myself that I was perceiving things as they were.
|
|
|
|
I finally turned away from the room, and towards myself. I looked in
|
|
the little mirror on my headboard, and I did not recognize my physical self as
|
|
it currently is. I reminded myself of the 7th grade me, except my hair was as
|
|
it currently is. The most profound differences were my facial features, and
|
|
the presence of a large amount of acne that wasn't there when I went to sleep.
|
|
I tenatively rubbed one of the pimples I saw, and found nothing but flat skin.
|
|
Good. I felt my entire forehead and face for bumps, and found my complexion
|
|
was much clearer than the mirror suggested. I looked back, and I was a much
|
|
closer to normal. I looked back at my floor, to re-confirm the stability of
|
|
reality, and noticed my CD player. I pressed play, and when I heard sound, I
|
|
picked up the headphones. I didn't wear them, but I moved them around, and
|
|
oriented myself to the sound. It helped tremendously, as did proving that I
|
|
could change things by playing with the skip/search buttons. Finally, I
|
|
stopped, and removed the CD. I looked at it, had some profound thoughts about
|
|
creative energy in the mind, glanced at my guitar, and then back at the CD. I
|
|
turned it around, to see my face in the back, and what I found was a small,
|
|
frightened, unfamiliar face with meek features. Suddenly, the face rapidly
|
|
transformed into dozens and dozens of other unfamiliar faces, until I looked
|
|
away, and placed the CD in its jewel box. I looked in my mirror, and I saw my
|
|
face. Comfort. But suddenly, the right half of the mouth in the mirror
|
|
twisted into the most angry snarl I'd ever seen on my face, and then quickly
|
|
calmed to normal. The left half followed suit, but this was more feirce.
|
|
Finally, I physically curled my face into an ugly, angry snarl, and silently
|
|
roared, feeling a large amount of negative energy being dispersed in that act.
|
|
I could tell that this was nerely over.
|
|
|
|
Suddenly, however, I began feeling that, even though I'd regained most
|
|
of my reality, that I might have caused some sort of permanent psychosis. I
|
|
wondered if it would be too late to save me, or if there was still time, or
|
|
perhaps if there would only be time if I sought help immediately. I was faced
|
|
with the issue of coming to my parents about the night's experiement. I
|
|
suddenly felt that I had no choice but to tell them, but there was still
|
|
enough sense in me not to. I knew that this would HAVE to wear off, but I
|
|
also wasn't certain what would be left behind. I opened my door again, and
|
|
sat down on the carpet before the tile of the hallway. I breathed. It was a
|
|
very liquid, unfamiliar breath. I suddenly decided to breathe very rapidly.
|
|
And the quiet sound of my hyperventalation produced a spinning sound in my
|
|
head as if the noise were actually produces by a large spinning wheel that
|
|
made little gasping noises periodically. The sensation reminded me of the
|
|
sensation I had earlier on in the trip of many small things meshing together
|
|
to form a large whole. My breathing returned to normal, and I began to cry. I
|
|
hadn't cried in a long time (I'd needed to, I think...) and it was a very
|
|
heartfelt cry. I was careful not to bawl and wake people up, because sitting
|
|
in my door put me within a meter of my parent's door. It was a gasping, teary
|
|
cry. I rubbed my eyes, and the moistness reminded me specifically of the
|
|
sensation I had earlier rubbing my had inside my lip. I had some
|
|
philosophical realization about the connection between my intimate activites,
|
|
drug activities, and the sorrow/pain I was crying for. After 5 minutes, I
|
|
calmed down.
|
|
|
|
I got up, took one more trip to the bathroom, and while there, my ears
|
|
were bombarded with sounds. I recognized my parents' TV, which I had turned
|
|
off as soon as I was coherent enough to do so. My father's alarm clock, which
|
|
wouldn't be going off this early, was buzzing in my head. My families voices
|
|
were audible in the far distance, and I realized that I'd been hearing them
|
|
throughout the past hour or two. I was a bit afraid that I wasn't perceiving
|
|
anything correctly, and they were in fact right over me trying to wake me, or
|
|
something of the sort. Finally, though, I left the bathroom, checked their
|
|
room, and they were still asleep, the television off, the alarm silent. I
|
|
smiled. Things were right, things were good. I walked back to my room.
|
|
Looking it over, I realized that it was back in order, I checked the clock - I
|
|
had a couple hours of sleep ahead of me. I stared at my bed.
|
|
|
|
I slid into my bed, and as I did, I could see, hear, and feel the
|
|
remaining uncertainties and inconsistancies of my surroundings disappearing as
|
|
the sheets sliding down my arms produced the most familiar feelings I'd felt
|
|
all night. I slept.
|
|
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi.
|
|
Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized,
|
|
and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned.
|
|
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to admin@anon.penet.fi.
|
|
*IMPORTANT server security update*, mail to update@anon.penet.fi for details.
|
|
|
|
=============================================================================
|
|
|
|
From: mike@baobab.cadif.cornell.edu
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.drugs
|
|
Subject: Morning Glory
|
|
Date: 10 May 1993 15:49:15 GMT
|
|
Message-ID: <1slthr$i0g@fitz.TC.Cornell.EDU>
|
|
|
|
Hi,
|
|
|
|
This is posted for a FOAF: I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT THIS!
|
|
|
|
******************************************************************************
|
|
|
|
I was out looking for a nice pussy willow to plant in the back yard
|
|
when I saw them - Heavenly Blue MG seeds, $1.00/2gm pack. What the hell.
|
|
I bought 6.
|
|
|
|
I looked up prior postings and decided that 8gm would be a decent dose.
|
|
I washed the seeds (they look like elongated peppercorns) in a bowl with warm
|
|
water and a tiny bit of dish soap, then rinsed them well in a strainer. I ate
|
|
a couple and waited a half hour, to see if there were any surprises - there
|
|
weren't - so I ground the seeds real fine in a coffee grinder, mixed them with
|
|
water in a glass, and let is soak for another 1/2 half hour or so.
|
|
|
|
I drank the liquid, refilled the glass, and waited some more...
|
|
|
|
Mild effects, minor visuals, mild nausea...
|
|
|
|
Drank the liquid again. Tasted much stronger this time, sort of like
|
|
peanuts, sort of like magic mushrooms...
|
|
|
|
Got progressively more nauseous. Finally used my finger to puke,
|
|
and puked and puked and puked and lay down on the floor and puked and puked.
|
|
Awful. Tripping now, too, great fun... I could see how a novice could TOTALLY
|
|
lose it under these conditions. Nausea didn't feel like nausea anymore, it
|
|
felt like twitchy anxiety and impending panic, then I'd puke and be totally
|
|
fine for 5 minutes. (My life became a phrase: PUKE = GOOD).
|
|
|
|
The trip that followed was actually nice, though - no visuals,
|
|
but nice emotional experience and a zoomy head. Hardly worth it, however...
|
|
|
|
An interesting point - an unusual aspect of this was that stimulation
|
|
was generally unpleasant - I wanted to be in a dark, quite place, with my
|
|
woman around talking but not touching me. I felt twitchy, and I didn't
|
|
want to move my head at all. I did the whole trip in bed...
|
|
|
|
Moral of the story: Acid is only $2.00 a hit.
|
|
|
|
******************************************************************************
|
|
|
|
- Michael Chase
|
|
(not mike@cadif!)
|
|
|
|
=============================================================================
|
|
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.drugs
|
|
From: Nathan.Bowen <Nathan.Bowen@mixcom.mixcom.com>
|
|
Subject: The Most Beautiful Sky Blue Flowers I've Found (LSA)
|
|
Message-ID: <1993Jul6.064530.1114@mixcom.mixcom.com>
|
|
Date: Tue, 6 Jul 1993 06:45:30 GMT
|
|
|
|
It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and we had a plan. Well, okay,
|
|
we didn't really have one, but we had several goals, a car, and even a
|
|
little bit of money. So it was that I found myself at Stein Gardens and
|
|
Gifts with two of my close friends, scanning what remained for the summer
|
|
of their seed rack. Our eyes were caught by some "Beautiful Sky Blue
|
|
Flowers" (according to the packaging) that were being sold for $1.99 per
|
|
package of 6 grams. This was definitely the best price we had ever seen,
|
|
and we decided to purchase 3 packages - 9 grams for each of the two of us
|
|
that possessed interest in the usage of the seeds. We walked out of the
|
|
store with 18 grams of Heavenly Blue Morning Glory seeds and a Nut Roll
|
|
candy bar. After giving a quick shake to the rubber hand that has been so
|
|
deftly placed to hang out of the trunk of my friend's car, we entered the
|
|
vehicle and proceeded to the shopping mall.
|
|
|
|
First of all, we seized the opportunity to search for new reading
|
|
material at WaldenBooks. The next stop was Kohl's Department Store, where
|
|
we quickly made our way to the kitchen supply department. Our last
|
|
endeavor with these seeds included a rather silly period during which, for
|
|
lack of a better means, we found ourselves sitting around a piece of
|
|
cardboard, taking at the seeds with various sundry items (a hammer, a "C"
|
|
size battery, an N2O cracker). While this had proved entertaining, we were
|
|
rather joyful to exit Kohl's with a lovely $8.99 Mr. Dudley "Princess"
|
|
pepper grinder. After acquiring some delicious cookies of the macadamia
|
|
nut-containing variety, we left the mall to check in at my home, gleefully
|
|
grinding the included peppercorns wherever our path led (we had to empty it
|
|
_somehow_!).
|
|
|
|
At my house, I filled my bag with a change of clothes, some coffee
|
|
filters (to replace the paper towling of our last attempt - a successful
|
|
attempt, but cumbersome, at best), some plastic bags to fill with the
|
|
product of the grinder, a toothbrush, and 3.6 more grams of seeds whose
|
|
presence in my drawer I had hitherto neglected to remember. 10.8 grams of
|
|
seeds for each of us - it was bound to be a good night. We returned to the
|
|
apartment of my companion for the night's journey (who will henceforth be
|
|
referred to as "Zworfin"), and set about our work.
|
|
|
|
The two that would not be partaking of our potion (the one who had gone
|
|
shopping with us, who will henceforth be referred to as "Jarquom", and the
|
|
person living with Zworfin, who will henceforth be referred to as
|
|
"Prulict") left for Taco Bell. After the first (approximately) 6 grams,
|
|
our "Princess" jammed up, and became stuck in the "closed" position. Enter
|
|
cardboard, hammer, Energizer, and Duracell. Eventually, we had two piles
|
|
of fine white powder with black specks, each massing approximately 10.8
|
|
grams, and some Nacho Supreme. At 8:30PM, We carefully placed the piles of
|
|
powder into two empty Ice Mountain bottles (chosen for the easy pouring
|
|
associated with a beverage bottle's neck) with some rather warm water, and
|
|
not-so-carefully ate our suppers for the evening, and set about watching
|
|
the breathtaking thunderstorm the night had given us, while occasionally
|
|
stirring our concoctions.
|
|
|
|
It was interesting to note that the rather apocalyptic weather of late
|
|
was easily understood in the light of the prophetic dream of one of our
|
|
friends: the world was ending in this dream, and it was July 17, 1993. We
|
|
chatted idly about the obvious fact that we had merely 2 weeks of this life
|
|
left, and eventually, 9:00 rolled around.
|
|
|
|
It didn't take long to rip all of our coffee filters, lose a good deal
|
|
of filtrate, and feel hopeless. Luckily, we found that a handkerchief made
|
|
a much more effective filter in this case, and we obtained a large amount
|
|
of liquid, keeping the bulk of the solid matter in the cloth. We cleaned
|
|
up the kitchen, proposed a toast to permanent psychoses, clicked glasses,
|
|
and stared at our potion. Jarquom wittily began to chant "Chug.. Chug..
|
|
Chug!", and Zworfin and I naively obliged. This was most likely the worst
|
|
decision of the night, and the taste made me lightheaded enough that I
|
|
wouldn't have been disappointed if the LSA didn't take. We quickly
|
|
attacked the pitcher of juice in the refrigerator, and within minutes, our
|
|
suffering was over. Prulict and Jarquom had popped "White Men Can't Jump"
|
|
into the VCR, so I sat down to watch it while Zworfin grabbed his book and
|
|
CD player.
|
|
|
|
I'd estimate that it was very roughly 10:30 when Zworfin was starting
|
|
to smile at nod knowingly, and I was groaning and clutching my rather
|
|
displeased stomach. I was rather certain that I would not enjoy my journey
|
|
if I embarked upon it with this sort of physical sensation. I considered
|
|
the tried-and-true method of purging one's digestive system in order to
|
|
smooth out the trip, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. In order to
|
|
make it to church on time, Jarquom left at the end of the movie (probably
|
|
around 11:00), driven by Prulict. I was a little disturbed by Prulict's
|
|
absence, as she was to be our anchor-to-reality, guide, and babysitter, but
|
|
she would return soon, of course. While she was gone, my trip turned
|
|
around completely. It seems that the basic turning point was the partaking
|
|
of a Mr. Freeze-style popsicle at the behest of Zworfin. I was beginning
|
|
to feel the amplification of all physical touch, and my mind was softly
|
|
humming with the giddy onset of free association. Zworfin was overjoyed,
|
|
as he was definitely eager to have a companion for his trip. Prulict
|
|
returned, and after taking care of some minor things around the apartment
|
|
(laundry and such), she sat down with us, and joined us.
|
|
|
|
She truly did join us, too. All three of us agreed that it almost
|
|
seemed as if she had imbibed a decent share of LSA, also. Of course, she
|
|
still had a firm grip on reality, but she was willing to "play along" with
|
|
our silliness, and she enveloped herself completely in the emotional
|
|
outpouring that Zworfin and I had for her. There had been a few too many
|
|
problems in our relationship (1 relationship for the three of us, because
|
|
that's basically the way we live it), and we couldn't have hoped for a more
|
|
thorough reconciliation. Zworfin and I quickly understood what had been
|
|
separating us, and we were able to finish each other's sentences to an
|
|
unreasonable extent, as if we both had a full script in front of us. After
|
|
we felt our problems solved, we turned to Prulict. We realized suddenly
|
|
how important she was to our experience, our lives, and our relationship -
|
|
and she was the main object of our thoughts for most, if not all, of the
|
|
trip.
|
|
|
|
Although I'm still not sure ultimately how the entire experience
|
|
affected Zworfin and Prulict's relationship, I was presented with a
|
|
remarkable understanding of how the entire ordeal would eventually turn out
|
|
favorably. Prulict will be leaving soon to spend some time on her own,
|
|
sorting things out, but I have never felt closer to anyone than I felt to
|
|
the two of them that night - and I now am well aware that that bond will
|
|
always, in some way, hold us all together. I was in constant awe at the
|
|
beauty surrounding me - Zworfin, who had helped me through the most
|
|
difficult times in my life thusfar; Prulict, who had entered into my life
|
|
rather recently, but to whom I already felt a love as strong as any I've
|
|
ever known; and the relationship between all three of us, which was
|
|
manifesting as a pure ever-strengthening glow of closeness. Many important
|
|
realizations and analogies about life and reality were developed that
|
|
night, but none seemed as important as the understanding and sharing that
|
|
went on between us.
|
|
|
|
The profound glowing ecstasy of it all is beyond description. I felt
|
|
at many times as if I would cry from the sheer beauty of it all - even when
|
|
Zworfin was expressing his tearing emotions of loss at Prulict's planned
|
|
departure, my tears were not of sadness, but of love and joy for the
|
|
wondrous light I saw in both of them. I could tell, then, in everything
|
|
that any of us did - I saw myself in them, and each of them in the other
|
|
and myself. We spent much time snuggling and idly holding hands/stroking
|
|
arms in various combinations, and the pure energy that was transmitted to
|
|
me caused me to wonder if my body could handle such warm, all-encompassing
|
|
sensations. I also have never seen such beauty as I found in Prulict's
|
|
reactions to the experience.
|
|
|
|
Eventually, Prulict grew tired, and Zworfin and I were able to continue
|
|
our discussions between each other, basking in the seemingly error-free
|
|
connection between our thoughts. We could discuss a model for reality, and
|
|
it would instantly appear in the other's mind. The most useful and
|
|
applicable of these was a fractal model for relationships, thoughts, and
|
|
experiences. A thought or an experience is an infinite spiral, consisting
|
|
of innumerable other spirals, and placed as a component of other, larger
|
|
spirals. Thus, a thought could be pursued into itself, gaining detail as
|
|
the spirals of which it is composed are made up. Or, one can pursue the
|
|
thought as it relates to other thoughts - where it fits in the larger
|
|
spirals. When we gave an analogy to the other, it was an empty spiral, and
|
|
it only made sense when we realized how to fit our existing thoughts into
|
|
it. A few clues, the thoughts that we had already understood to fit into
|
|
the analogy, would help to get the point across. An analogy for this (not
|
|
to get carried away.. :): If I give you a bunch of stones and say "Arrange
|
|
them in the right order", you're sort of at a loss. But, if I say,
|
|
"Arrange them into a circle with a line through the center", you can make
|
|
an image that looks very nearly like mine. The line could be oriented
|
|
incorrectly, but one of us has only to walk a short distance around the
|
|
circle to remedy that.
|
|
|
|
We continued on until 4 or 5 in the morning, when I took 150mg of
|
|
Valerian Extract, in an attempt to cushion the ride back down and get some
|
|
sleep. It worked beautifully. I felt myself tying up loose ends, and
|
|
coming back to reality, a sensation I find perhaps more intriguing than
|
|
much of the trip, but it was very smooth. I closed my eyes, and saw
|
|
beautiful images that reminded me of computer graphics (in fact, I'm in the
|
|
process of ray tracing and animating one of them). Zworfin saw similar
|
|
images. We knew that this would be a major stepping stone in many of the
|
|
relationships we've been strongly working to lift to the level that ours
|
|
has reached. Indeed, discussing this with a few other friends the day
|
|
after proved to patch many gaps in our understanding of each other.
|
|
|
|
It is for this that I advocate the usage of substances such as LSA. We
|
|
made an effort to use it efficiently, effectively, responsibly, and safely,
|
|
and 2 days later, the only effects that remain with me are the newfound
|
|
love among my friends. Learning to use powerful tools has its rewards, and
|
|
the human mind is my favorite of all the tools I've yet to encounter. I
|
|
expect I'll be writing a huge text on the things we learned, in the hopes
|
|
that a few more people will understand them. I can't hope to include the
|
|
majority of even the highlights, because it was all so important, but this
|
|
should at least serve to reaffirm the sense that these substances have the
|
|
potential to create and further beautiful things - in ways I could no
|
|
longer deny.
|
|
|
|
-Nathan nathan.bowen@mixcom.com
|
|
I love you all.
|
|
|
|
=============================================================================
|
|
|
|
From: cm15946@academia.swt.edu (STICKY)
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.drugs
|
|
Subject: Morning Glory Story
|
|
Date: 4 May 94 12:49:48 CST
|
|
Message-ID: <1994May4.124948.1@academia.swt.edu>
|
|
|
|
Could anyone recommend a safe but effective dosage of morning glory
|
|
seeds? I have munched on seeds on a few occasions, once with visual effects,
|
|
but I hear they are poisonous. This one place I bought seeds from told me they
|
|
weren't responsible for me poisoning myself to death or into a coma when I
|
|
bought four packages. Is there any truth to this at all? The most I have ever
|
|
eaten at a time was three and one-half packages, about a hundred seeds. I felt
|
|
quite nauseous and my stomach ached for an hour but this went away.
|
|
Then my body felt sore and a little weak, up until a day later.
|
|
I went home and I saw an alien superimposed on the Rush
|
|
Limbaugh show (not that I regularly watch that) and fractals on my ceiling
|
|
later that night. Of course, the experience was probably enhanced by MJ and
|
|
this homemade passion-flower concentrate (a little harmine). I want to eat
|
|
seeds again but I'd like to know the consequences first. Also, rumors say the
|
|
alkaloid in the seeds closely resembles LSD25 and the visuals were very
|
|
LSD-like. Any truth in that?
|
|
|
|
Any help would be much appreciated,
|
|
sticky
|
|
|
|
P.S. Could anyone send me a picture of what a Syrian Rue plant looks like? I
|
|
live in the right area and I would love to find this harmaline-rich plant.
|
|
I could provide seeds and roots in return if I find it.
|
|
|
|
whatever it is I think I see
|
|
becomes a tootsie roll to me
|
|
|
|
=============================================================================
|
|
|
|
From: Tommy the Tourist <nobody@soda.berkeley.edu>
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.drugs
|
|
Subject: GLOIRE DU MATIN (BLEU CIEL) - first time
|
|
Date: 16 Jun 1994 09:10:49 GMT
|
|
Message-ID: <2tp4up$ed9@agate.berkeley.edu>
|
|
|
|
Well after all of the recent talk about Morning Glory, I tried it
|
|
for the first time. In fact this is really, my first experience
|
|
with psychedelics, other than grass.
|
|
|
|
Very Strange. First off, I decided that an appropriate dose
|
|
would be about 100 seeds. I guess that this would correspond to
|
|
approximately 100ug LSA. I took the seeds and ground them very
|
|
fine with my coffee grinder. I remembered that some posts
|
|
mentioned that nausea, is a common side effect, so I decided to use
|
|
an enema. Big mistake. I mixed the ground powder with water,
|
|
and poured the solution into the bag. Something in the seeds
|
|
swelled up unbelievably, clogging the tube. What a mess.
|
|
Eventually, I got most of the liquid inside of me, and I will
|
|
omit the gory details.
|
|
|
|
Within maybe, five minutes, the tiles in the bathroom began to
|
|
swim, almost as though my vision didn't like the hard edged lines
|
|
of the grout. Circular objects didn't present as much of a
|
|
problem, only anything with a corner. I decided to have a warm
|
|
bath. I drew the bath and soaked for maybe fifteen minutes.
|
|
|
|
When I closed my eyes, I found that I was perfectly calm and
|
|
centered, as if nothing was going on. Then I'd open them up,
|
|
and everything would look O.K. for a couple of seconds, and then
|
|
would start to swim. Closing my eyes, would bring me back
|
|
together again. I lost sense of time, though, and I started to
|
|
feel very tired. I don't know if it was the MG or the bath, that
|
|
was making me feel that way.
|
|
|
|
I lay down on the couch, and sleep rapidly came over me. It was
|
|
almost as if I couldn't keep my eyes open. I don't remember much
|
|
after this, except for a small part of the dream which I had.
|
|
|
|
Towards the end, when I was getting up or preparing to wake up, I
|
|
was in some type of garden. It was somewhat tropical, but it
|
|
didn't quite feel natural. Almost as though it was cultivated.
|
|
All of the normal elements, which I associate with nature were
|
|
absent. There were no sounds, no feeling of sunlight, no winds.
|
|
And yet this garden was very dense with plants. It wasn't even
|
|
as though I was in the garden, I was watching myself in the
|
|
garden. (It's strange, as I try to write about this, it becomes
|
|
hazy.) Because, I WAS in the garden?!?!
|
|
|
|
All in all, a very strange experience, although I only remember a
|
|
few minutes at the start, and those split seconds before I woke
|
|
from the dream. The hours in between are gone. Definitely,
|
|
interesting, though. I felt strange for the rest of the day, and
|
|
since then have had a couple of days, where I just felt "right".
|
|
|
|
Now for the questions, How can I eliminate whatever material
|
|
swells up? I've got some of the information on extraction, but
|
|
chemistry is not my field. Is Robonsol lighter fluid a
|
|
substitute for ether? I'm not sure if Robonsol is like Zippo or
|
|
not. (And I'll be damned, if I can figure out what "ether" is.)
|
|
or anything about solvents. (If I can't even do a MG extraction,
|
|
what on earth am I going to do with canary seed.)
|
|
|
|
Second, is the extraction into ethanol, only to deal with nausea?
|
|
I guess that an enema eliminates this or am I wrong.
|
|
|
|
Then as far as the experience itself goes:
|
|
|
|
Does MG, have a sedating effect. This stuff knocked mye out.
|
|
|
|
Second, what is this entity that's spoken of. Somehow, I could
|
|
say that there was a definite presence there with me, but I
|
|
couldn't identify it. Although it did seem that we were
|
|
communing.
|
|
|
|
Thanks to anyone, who can help me with my questions; please post
|
|
as my email is unreliable. This experience was definitely
|
|
interesting. Nothing at all like my yoga experiences. And
|
|
definitely worth repeating.
|
|
|
|
|
|
--Stefan Atien
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
enriched uranium dont kill the president
|
|
tnt ira
|
|
--------
|
|
For more information about this anonymous posting service,please send mail
|
|
to remailer@soda.berkeley.edu with Subject: remailer-info.
|
|
--------
|
|
To respond to the sender of this message, send mail to
|
|
remailer@soda.berkeley.edu, starting your message with
|
|
the following 8 lines:
|
|
::
|
|
Response-Key: ideaclipper
|
|
|
|
====Encrypted-Sender-Begin====
|
|
MI@```&)S^P;+]AB?X9TW6\8W.:VP&2&V#S-2F(U:!.[8.2!ZQO;57+@P_QIA
|
|
M\*'Y#OA+YD76D,(7'?XGV)5V4"`JU>_Y.,)F/$B^CL7J:CF;5O]1$[(#;5@M
|
|
-S3`[=)9MF/#W=;VP6@``
|
|
====Encrypted-Sender-End====
|
|
|
|
|
|
Article 90310 of alt.drugs:
|
|
Path: news.claremont.edu!nntp-server.caltech.edu!news.cerf.net!ihnp4.ucsd.edu!agate!soda.berkeley.edu!remailer
|
|
From: Anonymous User <nobody@soda.berkeley.edu>
|
|
Newsgroups: alt.drugs
|
|
Subject: GLOIRE DU MATIN (BLEU CIEL) - second time
|
|
Date: 2 Jul 1994 21:04:29 GMT
|
|
Organization: Cypherpunks
|
|
Lines: 122
|
|
Distribution: world
|
|
Message-ID: <2v4kot$bpo@agate.berkeley.edu>
|
|
NNTP-Posting-Host: soda.berkeley.edu
|
|
Errors-To: nobody@soda.berkeley.edu
|
|
Originator: remailer@soda.berkeley.edu
|
|
|
|
Well, I finally did the morning glory trip. The first time I tried it, I
|
|
ended up falling asleep, and didn't get the whole expereince. But it
|
|
left me feeling alive and happy for days afterwards. Now there's any
|
|
emptiness in my soul. But it's not an emptyness, from using the potion.
|
|
No, quite the opposite. It's an emptiness, because of what it is that
|
|
isn't here right now. (Semantics of dubious distinction.)
|
|
|
|
Let me just say, that I have never had an experience like this. Sure,
|
|
I've smoked a couple of joints, and tried one or two substances, but this
|
|
is beyond all description. I took 500 Heavenly blue seeds, ground them
|
|
up into a fine powder; and did a bit of an extraction. I dried the seed
|
|
powder, mixed it in a glass with a Jolt and a shot of Vodka. And tried
|
|
to down as much of it as I could. This stuff is awful tasting.
|
|
|
|
I drank the potion at 10:00 last night. What a night I've had. it's
|
|
beyond words. I've practiced yoga for many years now, and I think it
|
|
really helped me for this experience. By 11:00, I felt strange, but in an
|
|
unquantifiable way. I'm posting from Canada, and we had our big birthday
|
|
celebration here yesterday, so I wanted to go out and enjoy myself. I
|
|
tried to have a bath, but I had forgotten how to. Or more precisely, I
|
|
just wasn't washing parts of my body by rote. I had to think, of what I
|
|
was doing. At 12:00, I finally made it out the door.
|
|
|
|
And then the adventure began...
|
|
|
|
What an adventure. Bars are an absolutely fascinating place. Who needs
|
|
a rave. It isn't a time or a space, it's a frame of reference. This was
|
|
indescribable. I finally understood, Warhol's, statement about everyone's
|
|
15 minutes. And I understood about everyone's game. It's amazing how
|
|
all of the pretence, all of the falsehood melts away. And it's great how
|
|
you can take someone's energy and build it, or take it and leave it
|
|
behind. A feeling of sadness can just flood you, and then in a moment
|
|
it's gone, because you realize it's just a feeling, but ecstasy is
|
|
different. THAT stays. Call it a real world, where all of the nonsense
|
|
just disappears.
|
|
|
|
On the dance floor, the energy was fantastic. The crowd was all up and
|
|
together because of the Canada day celebration. And the music and the
|
|
sounds and the lights. (This is all beyond words.) But I heard the
|
|
sounds of the natives, a chant, but it wasn't; more like a click sound,
|
|
the sound of everyone who has taken it before. (This is all beyond
|
|
words.) But I bought, things, and then just left them. It's amazing,
|
|
that you can just go and give someone money, and then they'll give you
|
|
something. THIS WAS A REVELATION. Dancing to a remix of the Village
|
|
People's YMCA, and doing the bump and grind, and chattanooga with
|
|
everyone on the dance floor. Stripping off my shirt, and having people
|
|
read my T-Shirt, and having them just get a great smile over their
|
|
face. "Life's Short, stay hard," it said. People would read it, and
|
|
then look up at me, (I'm very tall), and then they would just get this
|
|
beautiful smile. Having people dance, is incredible. Especially
|
|
natives. It's just beyond words.
|
|
|
|
I got tired after a while, and went and bought some chicken wings. Not
|
|
to actually eat, mind you. (That would have made me ill.) But just the
|
|
actual experience. But I did ask the bartender for a couple pieces of
|
|
lime. The fruit was far more nourishing than anything else. And from
|
|
there the experience began.
|
|
|
|
I'll leave out the part about going to the other bar, and seeing more
|
|
games of a different type. And of the two people who were screwing in
|
|
their motor home, parked outside of a funeral parlour which was just
|
|
being built, and of the Masonic temple, with the two dead tree stumps
|
|
guarding the front entrance. And get to the garden. The garden in the
|
|
middle of the city. I realized that the key to a garden are the spirits
|
|
who live there. And how important it is to make a place for them. I
|
|
stayed in the garden till dawn, feeling the soft earth, give under my
|
|
every step, the magnetic draw of fallow ground, the dancing of water over
|
|
the rocks, and the waterfalls. This garden is in the middle of the city,
|
|
with soaring skyscrapers all around. This little piece of paradise in
|
|
the middle of the city.
|
|
|
|
The only thing I can say is wow. Total amazement. I know this all
|
|
sounds very disjointed, but it's beyond all words.
|
|
|
|
This post is getting far too long. There is so much to say, And yet
|
|
words can't possibly do it any justice. If there is any such thing as a
|
|
cathartic experience, this is it. It's been enough for me to think of
|
|
reevaluating my entire life.
|
|
|
|
Do I recommend it to anyone? Well, yes, and no. I think if the time and
|
|
the mood is right, it will happen. There's no need to go searching for
|
|
it somewhere else, because happiness, and bliss isn't anywhere else.
|
|
It's all right here, right under our noses, if we would only stop the
|
|
nonsense, and listen. "Stop Making Sense", indeed, "True Stories" from
|
|
the twilight zone. And a foro.
|
|
|
|
Peace,
|
|
|
|
Istvan.
|
|
|
|
P.S. If anyone has part 2 of the morning glory FAQ, could they please
|
|
post it. After this experience, I think I might be able to understand it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
kibo bomb
|
|
shipment of cocaine brazil
|
|
--------
|
|
For more information about this anonymous posting service,please send mail
|
|
to remailer@soda.berkeley.edu with Subject: remailer-info.
|
|
--------
|
|
To respond to the sender of this message, send mail to
|
|
remailer@soda.berkeley.edu, starting your message with
|
|
the following 7 lines:
|
|
::
|
|
Response-Key: ideaclipper
|
|
|
|
====Encrypted-Sender-Begin====
|
|
MI@```%5S^P;+]AB?X9TW6\8WR:FP&2%W.AN(A0!%6U3BI[_TWG?,*G;2\'&K
|
|
M&1P/=!F+)19K!_]O7'\XR6/I1@-(.O_4,D7Z)\+<)'@UA?0!<N)==UQ&2)Q%
|
|
====Encrypted-Sender-End====
|
|
|
|
|