01 Feb My first DMT trip showed me the Abyss inside us all
The professor handed me a small plastic jar of white pencil shavings.
“Be careful. Smoke no more than 10 milligrams. Do not smoke more unless you want your brain melting from the inside.” He flashed me a grin.
“I thought you couldn’t overdose on DMT.” I narrowed my eyes. That’s what all the guides told me, anyway.
The professor shook his head with a sad smile. “That… filth you get from most people has no potency. What I have will make you break through easily. It will…” The professor trailed off, lost in thought.
I hesitated before finally plucking the plastic jar out of the professor’s hands. Well, he said he was a professor. Said he had a PhD in 16th century alchemical lore. Sounded like bullshit to me.
He also supplemented his salary by growing and selling DMT. Illegal, but the government always conspired keep the Truth from the people. At least that’s how the professor put it.
And that’s what I was after. Truth with a capital T. Whatever form I found this Truth, it would be valuable in of itself.
The smell of old leather wafted into my nostrils and made me grimace. The professor’s office was immaculate, but it reeked of old leather and mothballs.
“So I just smoke it in this?” I held up a glass coke bottle with steel wool at one end.
The professor’s smile never lessened. He began rubbing his fingers together.
“How can you tell?”
The professor laughed. I want to say maniacally, but it was infectious. I laughed along.
“We’re popping a cherry here, aren’t we?”
“Believe me when I tell you that this drug will tear your world apart.” The man’s eyes crackled with intensity that made me step back.
The man stepped forward, completely unaware of my personal space. “You have no idea.”
He breathed out through his mouth and I tasted very strong cheese. I leaned back as he pursed his lips, seemingly giddy at the thought of someone trying his homegrown DMT.
“I’ll be sure to let you know how it was.” I said, finally popping the bubble of awkward silence between us. I wondered if coming without my boyfriend was a good idea.
“If you do, then I know I’ll have failed.”
“What’s that mean?”
My eyes must have given away my anxiety because the professor laughed again.
“Just a little DMT humor common in the psychonaut community.”
I chuckled weakly. I don’t think he was part of any community, but he was offering DMT really cheap. And I was kind of desperate.
“You’ll need this compass.” The professor held out a small tan compass.
“Trust me. You’ll want it.”
I picked up the compass with two fingers as if it were poisoned. I turned it in my palm. Just an ordinary compass.
Before I could ask another question, he ushered me out of his office, and closed the door unceremoniously. He said he had to prepare others for His arrival. I didn’t really want to know what he meant.
I walked out of the strange office and onto the sidewalk. It was a 30 minute walk to my apartment. I didn’t use cars anymore, not since the accident.
It was serendipity.
If not for the accident, I wouldn’t have been tracking down this creepy professor and buying what was likely crappy DMT off of him.
I opened the door to my apartment. There was mail on the desk just inside.
A get well soon card from my parents. First time they communicated with me in years. They didn’t even come to see me in the hospital after that car accident.
We care just enough about our daughter to send her a letter, but visit? We’re busy with work. They always were.
I set my purse on top of the letter and walked into the kitchen. I couldn’t stand looking at the letter, but I didn’t have the heart to throw it away either.
On the counter top next to the fridge were some macadamia nut cookies. My boyfriend, Ben, bought them for me. We went out for our 1 year anniversary two days ago. He always tried bribing me with them anytime he wanted anything. It usually worked.
I grabbed two cookies and stuffed them into my mouth before heading off to my bedroom with plastic jar of DMT.
My painting hung on the wall just above my pillow. Ever since accident, I tried too many times to paint what I saw when I was unconscious. This was my best attempt. A monolith standing in the middle of a vast gray ocean and reaching out to stars set against a black sky.
Ever since the accident, I longed more than anything to see that monolith again. I eventually told Ben. He said he understood, but I think he attributed that longing to brain damage ans was just being nice. I couldn’t explain how the accident had awakened me from life. At least not in a way Ben would understand.
Life now felt like a chore I had to do and I felt like I was simply existing.
I grabbed the test kit from my nightstand. Always test your DMT. Especially if you buy it off a professor whose breath smells like cheese.
I spent some time testing what I bought. But sure enough, the test came out positive. The creepy professor actually gave me DMT.
Then I remembered the compass the professor had given me. Unsure of what to do with it, I stuck the compass in my pocket and my phone in the other. I leaned back against my bed’s headboard and took a deep breath. What would I see? Who would I make contact with?
Only one way to find out.
I stuck the small white crystal-like shavings in the bottle, measured out the correct amount, and lit the batch.
After taking a deep breath and holding it in for a good 5 seconds, the usual signs of DMT began to manifest.
A buzzing, like a Tibetan sound bowl, rang in the back of my head. Flat surfaces began to take on weird colors and sprouted into geometric fractals.
It could only have lasted seconds before I began to feel a scratch at the back of a head. It grew stronger until it felt like something was trying to burrow into my skull. There was no pain; I felt like I was numb to the pain, though I could still feel the scratching.
That was when my ribs began to feel the pressure. Like something was trying to rip my ribcage open. Unlike the scratching, this hurt like a bitch.
I screamed long until my throat burned and the black mist enveloped me.
I was jarred awake by my phone’s alarm. I was lying in my bed. Orange-gray light filtered through my window blinds. The phone kept ringing. I snatched it out of my pocket and checked the time.
3:45 PM… 3:50 PM… 2:12 PM… 6AM… 7PM… Either I was hallucinating or my phone stopped working. I stood up and shuffled on unsteady legs to my bedroom window and pushed the blinds aside.
The city and surrounding apartment buildings were gone. Instead, a vast ocean of gray sand assaulted my sight. I thought I saw orange-brown dunes in the distance until something clicked.
You know that picture that gets passed around on the Internet. The one showing what looks like a dead fish in close up detail. There are tiny smudges on the edges of the corpse, but it’s clearly a fish. Someone then points out that the “fish” is really a whale, and those smudges are really bears. Imagine that realization multiplied by a million.
Those weren’t dunes, but distant cliffs, so distant, I shouldn’t have been able to see them given the curvature of the earth. The geometry of it all felt incorrect.
Gray-orange painted the sky. I couldn’t tell if the clouds reflected sunlight or if the sky really was that color. I was busy focusing on a buildup of pressure inside my head. I was literally being crushed by awe.
What the hell had I taken? The DMT checked out, and I didn’t read about anything like this happening. Where was the flying through vortexes or the meeting of benevolent entities? I pinched myself and counted my fingers. I could count them clearly. This wasn’t a dream. I realized I also stood up and walked normally, not something you can’t easily do on DMT.
I ran over to the front door and threw it open. The door scattered the ash and dust in every direction and some of it fell on my tongue. I coughed again and tasted mothballs.
Both my hands, fingers splayed, touched my chest. Wonder, curiosity, terror, or a mixture of all three tugged at my mind as I saw nothing but gray dunes of ash surround me. There wasn’t any direction where the horizon ended. Every direction kept going.
Something pulled at my stomach urging, no demanding that I start walking. I remembered the compass and pulled it out to give me directions. It wasn’t spinning at all. The arrow had fused with the rest of the compass, rendering it useless. I dropped the compass in the ash and began walking toward the only thing I could see in the distance, toward the monstrous cliffs of orange-brown.
I read that DMT breaks your perception of time. Users feel like hours have passed when it’s only been minutes. This experience was similar. I walked for what seemed like years, though never hungering or thirsting. Eventually, the sandy wind had shredded the clothes on my back to nothing, making me walk through the alien landscape nude.
The soles of my feet grew calloused and my skin was raw and red from the wind. I couldn’t feel much pain though. Just the sensation of tiny particles brushing against me.
With no way of tracking time , I don’t know how long I walked. I only know that I walked through countless alien landscapes. Landscapes words fail to adequately describe. Some vistas threatened to turn my consciousness inside out. Others seemed to violate my mind with grotesque and erotic alien beauty. I once walked through a forest of giant towers of red stone. I shuffled past them in the gray ash and crawled up vast black mountain taller than Olympus Mons. Once I climbed higher than the red stone towers, I turned and saw, atop the towers, unmoving skeletal figures that huddled around fires of black flame.
The environments always changed, and each time my mind threatened to shut down in brain-shattering awe. Eventually I could do nothing but stare into the vast distances unaware of where or even who I was. The vast and alien landscapes stole my sense of self from me.
Something shattered underneath my foot and shook me out of my daze at one point.
I looked down and saw my foot had shattered a human skull. Around the skull lay many more bones. Ahead, I saw a sea of bones stretch forever into the never-ending horizon. Hip bones, knee caps, femurs, and skulls. Headstones of gray and orange and black poked out from the sea of bones at random places. A name of a person I knew was carved and each headstone. It was a graveyard of memories.
After what felt like centuries alone, a rabid loneliness slammed into me like a raging bull. I fell on my knees kicking up more of the endless gray ash and wept. I knew this feeling. I felt it every day of my existence.
Eventually, I decided to walk along the shore of this sea of bones and dead memories. I believed I might find the source of all the bones and quench what felt like centuries of solitude.
It was days or weeks until I finally saw something familiar. A giant pillar stretching out the the stars. The pillar grew wider as I approached. The word “pillar” doesn’t do justice to what I saw. The giant stones of Stonehenge felt like grains of rice compared to this monstrosity.
Out of nowhere, I heard it.
A siren sounded. It had to have been a siren the size of a mountain, and it screamed its guts out. It continued for a few seconds before going silent. A blast of hot wind nearly knocked me off my feet. I couldn’t stop my knees and hands from shaking. As soon as I stopped shaking, the colossal siren bellowed again. Pinpointing the source was impossible. The sound seemed to come from all around me.
I drew hard, ragged breaths as I began gnawing at my fingertips. The siren’s screech was pulling my bones apart.
For the first time, I heard whispers caress me and pull me toward the gargantuan monolith. That didn’t stop the horrendous siren from bellowing at regular intervals and making a hurricane of my insides.
Who knows how long I walked before coming close to the monolith. Upon first spotting it, I thought the grayish monolith looked smooth, like burnished clay. As I approached it now now, angular textures and jagged shapes revealed themselves.
Bone. It was bone. The monolith was constructed entirely from human bone.
I now stood within 10 feet of the monolith, its shadow overwhelming my senses.
From this location, I could see the sea of bones crawling. At first I thought it was some kind of optical illusion, but the monolith was drawing the bones into itself, sucking them in slowly.
I stood at the base of this colossal monstrosity, a magnificent blasphemy against the mind. A spark of desire to touch the monolith needled its way up my legs and torso. The siren screamed once more. As I touched the end of a human spine protruding out from the monolith, the siren cut off.
A silent funeral for a dead planet.
And then it came.
The roar of dying stars bellowed out and threatened to grind my brain into white paste. My legs shook, my skin began glistened with sweat in the strong wind. No, not wind. This was the thunder of colliding galaxies.
I looked up away from the monolith, and spotted a black speck hovering in the distant orange-gray sky. It grew rapidly as it drew closer. Soon enough this speck rivaled the sun. And yet it kept growing until the entire sky was devoured by black ink. The siren roared again, this time unceasing. I thought of an ant looking up to find a giant eye staring at it through a magnifying glass. The blackness was sentient. Within the roar of this siren scream, I could hear whisps of commands and desires and other alien emotions.
I wanted to fall down and beg for mercy. Beg for forgiveness. I wanted to worship, to give myself up to the sentience and join it.
For a second, I glimpsed my hands only to feel a red hot hate blast through me. I abhorred myself. I had gazed into the Abyss that was God. And it gazed back through millions upon millions of toothy eye-filled mouths.
I understood then. The Abyss was speaking from inside me.
My chest constricted. A final hacking cough ravaged my insides. Beads of seat poured down my forehead while my lungs felt like they were going to burst through my ribcage.
My eyes began to focus and I saw I was back in my own apartment. Outside, cars were honking as children shouted playfully.
Shivering fingers reached into my mouth. I bite down hard. That’s when I noticed the flesh. My hands were covered in flesh. Filthy disgusting flesh. I couldn’t see my bones.
I pulled myself from the bed and crawled up to my window and sneaked a peek outside.
In any other situation, I would have been happy to see regular people going about their business. I was horrified instead. These were fleshy abominations that walked on fleshy appendages.
Before I could react, vomit forced its way out of my mouth and splattered all over the window. I screamed as the gastric juices burned my throat.
An hour passed before I could calm down.
The Internet. I needed information. I sat myself down in front of the computer.
Nothing I read about DMT mentioned these effects. What did that professor give to me? Why did the test kit tell me it actually was DMT? Why couldn’t I find the professor’s address anymore? Why wouldn’t he answer my invitations for video chat? Why did something inside the core of my being feel like it wanted to tear itself out?
My hands fell to my thighs, and I felt a familiar shape. The compass. I pulled it out to see it was still just as damaged as it was before. What happened?
Here, the answer came almost readily.
He. It existed.
That wasn’t an alien landscape I had traveled. I had traveled the depths of my being and found the abyss inside me, inside us all.
It wants freedom, an release from the prison inside us all. It will come out one day and I will hasten its arrival. I will tear the abyss it out of all of us. Violently.
I and everyone else will be consumed and sucked into a skeletal monolith I had seen before and painted. This monolith was a dedication to the glory of the Abyss.
This was true enlightenment. We are but the materials used to construct this monstrous, magnificent effigy.
I thought of my loved ones, of Ben. I love him most, and he will taste this glory before anyone. I’ve been given a purpose, a gift.