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Timeframing: The DMT Experience

Timeframing: The DMT Experience

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Published by Lexi Roberts
Insight and accounts into my first DMT trip and first psychedelic breakthrough
Insight and accounts into my first DMT trip and first psychedelic breakthrough

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Published by: Lexi Roberts on Apr 17, 2014
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04/17/2014

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Timeframing:TheDMTExperience
-Lexí
Trip: 4/12/14Documentation: 4/13/14
 
 I don't even know how to explain it, the trip. I cant even explain it. I’m here trying to write about what happened but it is so profoundly unfathomable that all I can do is sit here and shake slightly. It is 4:44 pm, the day after the trips. The DMT experience made me forget what being on shrooms was like, I barely remember. DMT...it was so bizarre.  Weird. I don't even know what adjective would accurately describe it (there is none). I remember being very nervous and anxious beforehand, not knowing how to inhale the smoke from the pipe properly. The first inhale was a slow burn, my chest shook and all I could feel was the fire ants pushing themselves into the walls of my lungs. Second hit, I  just about choked. I remember sitting there half wanting to gag. I think I drooled on myself from coughing haha. Third hit, I sputtered and coughed and felt nothing after that but the burn. I sat there in utter numbness. Balam Acab was playing in the  background and the light from behind Sergio was making the room glow but that was an observation that I didn’t need DMT to create. Then suddenly I remember saying “oh I feel it a little,” but only a lightheadedness like I was growing towards an approaching acid trip, or finally feeling hydrocodone kick in. I felt the same, stable for a little while. “I feel it a little more.” Atticus put his hand on my lower back so I could focus on breathing properly. He told me to direct all my breathing towards his hand, deep breath in, deep breath out,  work through the burn. It felt nice, I still felt his hand there even when it was gone. I felt  warm. I felt warmer. And then suddenly, something in my peripheral vision started to define itself. It was Hunter's leg. It looked like some sort of HD image, a model of something digitally animated on a screen. It moved towards me. I said something like, “Wow I feel it. Wow. Oh my god. Wow.” Everything felt so collectively happy, like things were beaming around me as if to congratulate me on finally sensing them. Hunter smiled but I never looked at his smile to know that he was. I just stared at his leg. Then every single thing around me breathed in HD. Like a hyperrealistic animation and I was the entity inside of the film camera hyper-focusing on everything; I was a macro lens of sorts. I was in an animation program, I was in a whole world. I started tilting back and forth, my upper body moving forward and then back and then forward again, I was like a rocking horse moving on a fixed, steady track. I was trapped in that cycle, it felt like I was tracing my consciousness from the outer ring of a concave to the inner curve and then out again. Even writing it now has caused me to repeat the motion, it feels comforting, a slight bobbing. I think it  was the slow motion vibration of my consciousness trying to show me that it was there, living inside of my body. Over and over and over, it moves on a fixed track. Beckoning me towards something and away from something at the same time.
 
 I decided to move around after that. Balam Acab was playing and I felt like I was in some sort of playground. I tried to compare what I was seeing to something I previously encountered. I remember picturing “Boo” from Monster’s Inc. (haha) and thinking that I was seeing through her giant green, glassy eyes. Giant circles, concave, full of penetrating emotion. My walking was rhythmic. I walked into Hunter’s room with my notebook and started writing. At first I was trying to force myself to write something interesting. I kept becoming aware of what I looked like outside of my world, before coming right back into it. I was moving and fluctuating between reality and a non-reality, and it took awhile for them to blend into one. I had anxiety about how stupid I looked, rocking around and moving my hands all over the place to touch things. I ended up on Hunter’s bed and I was still rocking and things moved slowly and gracefully and my hand moved in sections like my elbow would move and the rest of my hand would follow to conform to the new point in space where my elbow was. The paper became the focal point in this otherworldly narrative. Everything else blurred around me until the notebook pages had more clarity than anything I had ever seen before. (after my trip I  was worried I didn't experience an alternate reality, only a modified version of what I normally saw, until I came to the realization that the exploration of the paper became my new reality and everything was melted into that. I created my own world with my pencil, it was brilliant). The notebook looked like a smooth-shaded, animated model. I  was fascinated with the way the pencil seemed to affix itself to the surface of the paper,  but like a layer under, as if it were a transparent covering over it that I couldn’t actually see, a gate-way, I could feel it without touching it. I wanted to be alone, I remember.

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