2022-07-14 at 9:14 PM UTC
in
mexican cactus
I was expecting 12 hours of relaxing jungle imagery, cool colorful snakes and jaguars, all I've seen was worms, vermin, carcasses and deformities, people with pain in their eyes, suffering and anguish. I wouldn't wish the this experience on my worst enemies.
speaks volumes about my deplorable mental state when mescaline is supposedly the gentlest psychedelic, yet I got a series of panic attacks while staring into a pitch black void.
it's frustrating to me that I missed on a potentially pleasurable experience because of my deranged thoughts and neuroticism.
imagine you're tired after a stressful day. you lie in bed, but every time you close your eyes you're mindraped by a clusterfuck of autonomous limbs, all this while obnoxious images materialize as manifestations of paranoia. shifting back and forth to semi-wakefulness you realize you're drained, but can't rest. fatigue accumulates. eyes close, whacked by yet another train of abstract, modernist atrocities. failing to sink into sleep, you find yourself stuck in an abyss of vertical agony.
