Salvia

I tried Salvia a few months ago (in New York -- legally!) for the first time. 10x. Went into the woods with a good friend, placed a big pinch of extract on the pipe, and took two hits. I later realized that I had consumed the whole thing. I estimate that I smoked about a milligram of salvinorin A.

I wasn't sure it hit me at first. I was sitting upright, but found my body moving backwards. It acted on its own -- I had no control over my movements. As I stared up into the white sky, I marveled at the beauty of the silhouetted trees and the contrast between light and dark.

Then I started laughing hysterically and sweating. I remember wondering why I was laughing -- what was so funny? What I was laughing about, I realized, was the hilarity of the experience -- this is incredible, I thought! That it was working was somehow tremendously funny.

But what was I feeling, exactly? I don't quite remember, but I will say that I remember seeing the world as clips, as a big painting, a dream. The sky was an image, not a motion. Everything in the world was connected. What I was looking at wasn't something else, it was something self. Time became episodic, not linear, and everything became profoundly magnified. (The word "magnified" may seem strange here. I used to experience some odd auditory hallucinations before falling asleep -- breathing sounded overwhelmingly loud. What I felt on Salvia was similar but visual.) The world was fundamentally close. I was in a body, but there was a distinct, dualistic separation between flesh and mind. Only mine eyes were mine -- my body was somehow not. There were frames around my eyes, like glasses, that separated the mind's eye (and "I") and body's eyes from the body.

I can't recall much of the first few minutes -- I was completely gone. My friend says that I kept commenting on the brilliance of the white light. My friend responded, "It's a strange light." I didn't know what to make of that at the time, but I vaguely remember it being said. Throughout the trip, I kept insisting that it was over, only to "relapse" immediately thereafter. (I remember my friend saying that he thought it came in waves.) I remember watching my friend build a fire. I kept questioning my friend's actions. "Why?" suddenly became very important, as did the question of reality. I asked my friend whether the fire was real. I wasn't sure whether it was or not -- it was so strange. A fire? Here? Was anything real? I simply did not know.

Consciousness became almost animalistic. The simplest things suddenly became perplexing. My friend was building the fire from sticks; I thought they were the matches we had brought. I was disappointed that my friend had wasted all the matches. I questioned my friend, only to come to the disappointing conclusion that he was just a dreamlike blur.

The intense experience lasted for about 5 minutes. Strong residual effects lasted for about 10 minutes afterward. During the comedown period, I was completely and utterly stoned; I was supremely relaxed. I was leaning against a tree and could hardly move. Indeed, I was a stone. I noted the beauty of the smoke coming from the fire. At one point, I proclaimed that I was not hallucinating, that what I was seeing was real, as though this were some astonishing realization.

I loved the trip and would unhesitatingly experience it again. It was fun, enjoyable, pleasant, mind-bending, and an utter joy to live through. I can't believe that some people experience dysphoria from this drug -- it has only the most beneficent of intentions. I felt utterly no fear or dread throughout the trip. My friend says that I, when I was able to talk, spoke of the brilliance of Salvia and urged him to try it. Indeed, I am still of the same mindset. The trip was pure bliss. Not a physical bliss, but a mental one. I recommend that you prepare extensively; I think that my trip was so good both because of the environment and because I had read an insane amount of literature on the drug before using it. (During the trip, I knew what to expect, and was continually assessing the experience during and after.)

I am, needless to say, very impressed.