Bad Trip:
A shroom too many

We had three point five grams each, sitting on a plate in front of us. Just thinking of that sweet ride up the psilocybin escalator was taunting my senses. As usual, the others pounded theirs back with chocolate as I washed mine down with orange juice. It was an unusual day to do them. Every time we have shroomed it up the plans were completely random and unlogical. I had been drinking the night before, and the hanging after affects were about to meet a substance they didnít get along with.

While Volx Vagon was still at school, the others and I patiently awaited our trips. I told Joke Fingers that I wasnít feeling good, but planned on consuming the mushrooms regardless. Volx Vagon finally arrived and we dived into our plans within minutes. It felt to me that something terribly awful was creeping up behind me, and I revealed this to Joke Fingers several times. I remember life getting progressively more negative every second, and I began to spiral into a vertigo of confusion. I was delirious. I was pacing around my room wrapped in a blanket laughing at the overwhelming badness of the situation.

While I closed my eyes and curled up on the floor, it started to get worse. Nothing made sense, and I began to see things. In hindsight I question my own memories against reality. I distinctly remember seeing acoustic guitars flying at me full frontal, and turning into flaming skulls that laughed and mocked me just as they passed my by face. Still I laughed at the situation while I tried to make it clear to the others what exactly was happening to me.

I had began to really experience the affects of the psilocybin fast and hard. It was at this time that my previous bad well-being began to fight back against the holy psilocybin. I was fucked. I began to feel nauseated. It was too much for me, so I started to ask for help. I questioned everything I did. I was experiencing every ounce of possible negative feelings all at once, and it seemed perpetual. I tried to figure out what time it was, but time made no sense. I couldnít remember what time I had taken them, and I couldnít comprehend their duration.

I found myself sitting in a disgusting dirty bathroom covered in some sort of thick green film. It smelt of fresh vomit. It was a terrible place, and the cup of water before me had no use at all. My pants had been undone and I was breathing the spicy toilet air. Yummy. I decided that I needed to leave this area. I brought a bag with me, and sat on my bed. At this time there were, seven people partying in my room, and five of them were smashed. They all went up stairs to wait for more booze. I looked at the clock and noticed that only a short group of minutes had pasted, in what seemed like 2 hours. I started to feel more comfortable when there was only the three of us on shrooms in the room. We had come to the analytical conclusion later that all the commotion had instilled and overdose of confusion in my mind, while I was sick. It was all a terrible experience and a half, and it only progressively got worse.

I laid in my bed with the odd vibes of some terrible existence sitting next to me waiting for another chance to grab onto my mind and bludgeon it with confusion . I started to feel sick again. I knew this time I would vomit for sure. I am not usually sick. It is something that I am unfamiliar with, and for me to experience it on shrooms is far too much. I grabbed the bag I had prophesized use for earlier, and began to project puke into it. I started to visualize terrible things again. I was simply a tiny ball of energy within a bag of puke dimly lit from the ongoing loathing of my room around me.

I would occasionally pop my head out and stare around with a primitive look trying to piece reality together. I vomited more, and began to feel more conscious. I relaxed and laid back startled but comfortable once again. It was at this time that everyone had come back from their booze acquiring adventure. The confusion once again set in, and I had yet again spiraled into the depths of negativity. I asked my brother for help and he gave me water. Thankfully I had gained some experience and handled the situation better the second time. I realized that I would soon be ok and sober. I looked at the clock and it was somewhere around 12:00am. I was feeling better and I had changed into fresh clothes and began to socialize more. I was back into reality. Aside from a few shitty things like getting vodka poured into my eye on shrooms, it was a terribly interesting night to remember. Iím sure the story would be better told from the view of others, since the things I experienced are near impossible to put into words. Maybe one day someone will tell you their story. This shitty story is all you get from me suckers.

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