It turns your brain into a slot machine and when you take it, you spin the wheels and some random combination of mental debris pulls your number. Yeah, it plays with the most powerful concept that our brain can imagine. You can string together all the metaphors in the stream of conscious that it provides, but don't dare fool yourself that there is something there besides scrambling. There is no fucking meaning to any of it. Trying to look for meaning in all that scrambled shit is insane. It gives you imagined clarity and you think you know it all, but that's the trick. Whatever you do, do what you think is best for yourself and enjoy life with whatever it is you choose my friend! If you try kiteboarding, I hope you like it, but if you don't i hope you might hesitate in saying kiteboarding sucks and nobody has REAL fun kiteboarding because you don't like it. Enlightenment comes in many forms, and like someone told you, try too is an enlightening experience. I think you miss the point that opening the mind is a wonderful experience and it, in itself, is enlightenment. Addictive.no way, no more than coffee or candy. You might call it mind scrambling because the effect does dissolve the normal mind patterns, but I hope that is what people who use psychedelics expect.
For me, spice is a wonderful tool that I use to do exactly what you don't like, to open my mind. Spice may not be giving you what you want because you are looking for something that isn't there I think.wrong intent I would suggest. Oral spice is too much for me too, I only like short smoked sessions. And I am glad that I didn't find Jesus! That would have been a bitch. Oral DMT was all I ever did, so I am drug-free. I really never like mescaline or shrooms much anyway.
Shit, I don’t drink or do any other drugs so I guess I need a new hobby. It’s all gone and I am an all or nothing guy - there is no such thing as occasional use for me. I flushed all my shit and threw away my supply of root bark, caapi extracts, shrooms, and cactus. In the end, it caused more pain than it was worth and provided no answers, just oddball questions and strange conjectures. I guess I started DMT looking for answers to my existential despair and for a good time. And it’s not the phony DMT clarity that this drug likes to slip over the brain and disguise itself as enlightenment. It’s been a few weeks and I feel a clarity that I haven’t had in two years. For me, it is the most addictive experience I have ever encountered and I am glad to have it out of my life. Does this stuff have the potential for real addiction? It’s fucking plutonium and the high is out of this world. No matter how horrifying my trips were, after I came down, I would still wish longingly for the high again. And I scream at myself, “Why can’t you ever remember this!!! You always forget!!!” That’s addiction folks, a selective amnesia where I can only see the euphoria and remember the highs of the rollercoaster and never the lows. It is only during the bad trip, a tour of my own personal hell that I remember the agony, torment, and torture. I can never remember my bad trips, I always forget them no matter how hard I try not to. Oh, this is another fucking trick I realized that it plays. The strange synchronicities are all a deceitful and clever ploy to emphasize and reinforce the apparent magic of DMT, it all delusion, a faithful imitation of schizophrenia.
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