I was eleven, the year was nineteen and seventy six when my brother, the elder of eleven months, had aranged to procure 2 tabs of black dragon. blotter of a potency that still reverberated from within the sixtys. Jean Micheal Jarr's Oxygene played on the phonograph while light based chicklets danced in geometric patterns on the back of my eyelids.
Flash forward five years, after buying 10 hits of laughing man acid on the drag from a homeless man (at the astronomical cost of $3.00 each), he invites me to join him 2 days hence for the Ozzy concert. We meet up and after discusing the quality of the 'cid (did I like 'em? yea they made me laugh a lot, guess thats why they were called laughing man, etc.) He then gives me a handful of these dried funny looking things and instructs me to eat them. What are they? I quized, "mushrooms, you will like them, like cid only better" he retorted, and off we went unto Ozbourne land. I can't remember much of the music, but it was the most bad ass light show I have ever seen.
After the show I was so impressed that I bought some more of the mushrooms from this man who then loaned me his hardbound copy of the tibetan book of the dead. he said it was for the trip.
That night I ate some more, but due to the fact that I had been tripping for days, I fell asleep before blastoff. I do not remember my dreams that night but when I awoke my (long) hair was one big knot (no really, ONE knot, it took a week and half of it lost to the brush to get it out). I returned to give this man back his book (he made me SWEAR to it when he loaned it to me) but , much to my chagrin, he was never to be seen again, moved on or busted I never knew. That was my first taste of the long lasting oraly active form of dmt.
I kept that book for 25 years until a young aquaintence (friend of a neighbor of mine) came to my house to offer a bite and to find information about animita from me (I had a garden that would make a midevil witch jealous) He had recognized a few species, making him think I might have some experience with fly agaric and would want to share the trip. I declined, having just lost my beloved parrot a mere 2 weeks earlyer, because of an acident that was entirely my fault, I was feeling guilty and I was not in the proper headspace to trip with the "young-uns" (he and his buddy were barely 21). I declined but felt it was a good time to pass the torch (so to speak) and handed the beloved book on to a younger generation of want to be shamen.
Now, about the first time I did the short term, non orally active dmt (yopo). I was 23 and a friend had just returned from South America with a woven box he bought from a man that "looked like he just steped out of the jungle"....
Ok, i'm sorry, (hangs his head) I'm done, I won't ramble anymore.