DMT Trip 1

Dearest All,

The first I ever heard mention regarding dimethyltryptamine was from Morgan, Pete and Rix's old chum, and quoted by Pete some 4 or 5 years ago now:

'[Like] spiralling down a double helix into Eternity'..

Obviously, with a preceeding reputation like that, it's hard to get a chemical out of your head. I first took a hit of DMT with J and Craig about 18 months or so ago, on Moler's bed, and found myself propelled far - very far - but only into the void between galaxies. I could see them swirling, dancing in the distance, in the black; thus, I was still occupying a material position in the confines of timespace. And so it went - far, but not FURTHUR, to quote the Merry Pranksters.. I had a trial or two with some crystals furnished me by that dude with the hair at (my) most recent Jostock, but the material was wet and I idiotically rushed into the thing without fanning it dry. The dude took it himself on the morning after that particular 'Stock and ended up in conversation with invisible types just off to the side of the dead campfire. Watching J during the exchange is a fond memory: J watching this guy lose himself, not to mention the rest of us, in something that J, of all of us, had at least an inkling of an idea of.

A few weeks ago I began my experiments with the crystalline DMT sent via airmail to me by J. After making a lightbulb vaporiser, following a link sent again by J, I undertook a couple of fairly uninspiring forays into Hyperspace. I had thought that the lightbulb was simply too inefficient at getting the necessary molecule into the necessary antennae, but tonight my prejudice was thankchristedly found utterly wanting. After some funky sex with the lady I decided to while away a few moments experimenting with my pipe before the bplaa nueng manao (steamed fish with lime) dinner. So I loaded the pipe with a little more material, ensured that my modifications had resulted in an airtight fuck, and proceeded:

After an indeterminate period spent mostly adjusting my breath - and checking I still had it.. - I felt like I had shakily awoken - that feeling you get, when you look back on a dream and realise there was no scene change between speaking with John to rutting with Jane to discussing such-and-such with so-and-so, and so forth. There was no ending or beginning in the sequence that satisfies me looking back now. And so I found myself in Hyperspace - and I mean HYPE-ERR. This thing was large, presumably limitless, and spectacularly enlivened by multiform luminosities and illuminosities that brought about, initially, giggles, and utterings of 'Christ'. My immediate thought was, 'McKenna was right, he was spot on with the landscape'.. Something I noticed, even on the failed trials, is that it is not just tricky but IMPOSSIBLE to determine where life emerges from structure. The whole thing is either somewhere in between the two, somewhere beyond, or in another catagory that makes this tiny, tiny message obsolete. Anyway, the fact remains in me, life and landscape are indistinguishable to a human observer - much as our quantum physics would suggest even here, on this flat plane. And so, I thought to myself - even in spite of this insight - 'Let's get to brass tax, where in hell are these fabled 'machine elves'.?! And literally before I realised it, I saw them - they had been in my face all along, spinning vortices of bejewelled energies between their 'hands'; I began a fraction-of-an-instant's self-congratulation before shutting myself up, telling myself to respect the situation, and look and possibly learn about their doings.. They were seemingly showing me something, some manner of harnessing or manipulating - literally manipulating, from the French mains, 'hands' - light or energy: Whatever they had between themselves it was certainly non-material, some kind of leashed tornado of hyperpigmentation.. The implication of this is that we are capable of making sense of their behaviour: I find it hard to accept that they would be so involved in the teachings they are offering otherwise. There was no urgency that I could detect, which runs a little counter to McKenna's speeches. To my mind they were so aloof - intellectually, and I don't mean to say they were pedants, or preachers, or anything - that you may as well call them indifferent. We are simply not equipped with the necessary databanks required for full translation of the Flash - yet.

Coming down I heard the metallic sawtoothing, playboating sear of the elven language, and found myself welling up in gratitude that I, a mere nugget of flesh and mindfield - a mayfly - could find myself in the presence of such an awesome demonstration of Life's ability to grow and learn and impart and play..

I have a couple more doses left in my foil.. Inshallah I can offer you a few more tastes of my developing rapport with these gigantic Gods and Godesses of this thing, some kind of Pandimensional Maze of Light and Lights..

Journey well fellow prisoners of matter; I spunk fortune and focus at you.. The last thing I ought to say is this: We find ourselves part of a crew which has both the insight and the chemical capability to harness this molecule, in the form of J - that friend of mine who 'always gets there first'. I put it to you that it is your duty as a human to touch this nebula of frenzy - make a mindfucking with the elves - nothing further can then be asked of you provided you at least attempt advancement. (Incidentally, the idea that the DMT smoke is harsh is a fabulous myth that has somehow found a base - a voice, indeed many voices - in our subculture: Ignore the fucking bullshite you hear about this - halfway through the second toke it's a job to even feel your body anyway, so, you know, take Heart!). I hope to hear of your forays into the Big Realm; until I hear more -

Always love,

Monoceros