Literally. I am now missing a crown from a molar. I cannot believe this shit. It’s going to cost me a grand for a new crown, and more importantly, DMT kicked my actual ass.
I can never go back. This is the saddest thing to me. I’ve said it before. I’ll never go back. I can never do it again. But that was when they just sent vomiting and horrible feelings of remorse. This time they sent goons. I guess I gotta get the message now. The fairy-folk beat the shit out of me.
In my trip: Everything was beautiful for at least a few minutes. I was nervous, but not overly at first. And the visuals were doing their always shockingly, eye-peelingly luscious thing. I’m having trouble remembering what I saw now. It’s been taken from me. But I know it was not dissimilar to many other trips I’ve had. Then… from around darkling corners came these fucking guys. Pirate-Biker-Murderer-Baddies. The trip turned fucking awful. They were shooting at me, slashing, kicking, punching, all in the abstract of course. I opened my eyes to escape. And my fucking tooth was missing.
In reality: What did I do? Thrash about? My face isn’t hurt though. More likely I just bit down really hard, broke it off and swallowed it. Or maybe I calmly reached into my mouth with my fingers and wrenched it out. Who knows.
Also in reality: I really have been banished from DMT-land. And the fairy-bouncers are no joke.
I called David after it happened. He mostly just laughed at me. To him it’s a good story to tell his friends. I was kicked out of fairyland by the king and queen, and when I tried to go back they sent thugs to beat me up.
It’s such a weird drug. When it works it’s great. I sleep just the right amount, and wake up feeling rested and ready. When it works.
Tonight it’s not working. I took a second one hoping that would do the trick. But my eyes are obstinately open. So I’m on this irritating ambien trip. I’m seeing strange people in my walls, moving them around. Far from what I thought – that my walls were flat and boring- now they’re teeming with people. So many little hidey holes where the ambien-elves can live their lives.
If my walls are weird, my computer is really weird. It has learned how to move and bend in some ways I wasn’t familiar with. It responds to pressure differently. It doesn’t stay quite still all the time. It weaves a bit, it nods, it shrugs. Other items on the desk have they’re own little dances, each one different. The bag of knives breathes shallowly and reaches out, it wants to slide across the table. The lamp is stretching itself. It wants to see how much bigger it can be.
But objects aren’t all there is to this ambien thing. I also have the sense of people around me. Tall people. Wearing coats. I don’t pay them any notice. They aren’t friendly, or hostile.
Sigh. Ambien also makes writing difficult. So many typos.
I can’t imagine using this drug recreationally. What do people see in it?