It all started on Saturday night when I ingested the Peruvian torch cactus by myself in my apartment. In tandem with the consumption of the trichocereus peruvianus, I also consumed some 5-HTP pills that I bought from Extra Foods. I thought that this combination would put me into the stratosphere of my inner self, a place beyond the pale of my searching, yearning mind. In a way it did, but in no way was I prepared for the duration of such a mental excursion. The psychedelic waves just kept on hitting me.
8:30pm
I ingested two hearty dollops of the gelatinous pulp about an hour ago. I can feel it swerving this way and that in my body. Somatic sensations are more pronounced. The body feels less like flesh and more like an organic antenna for the environment. The rationalizing, concept-driven mind seems to be taking a backseat to a mind that exists prior to concepts. Let’s see where this goes.
9:30pm
I ingested two more dollops of the cactus material. This stuff is difficult to digest. Observation: the outline of a plant leaf outside is shining majestically with the dying light of the igneous sun. I am quietly listening to Tortoise’s “Beacons of Ancestorship”. This music is florid electro-rock that moves and sways like a cybernetic Demeter. Transmission over.
10:30pm
Botanomancy. Seeking auguries and omens in the corpus botanicum. The tree across from my balcony revealed an image of a little boy peering into a cauldron of sorts. The tree to the left revealed the image of an owl with no eyes. Maybe the eyes are in a different tree, or perhaps in the contemplative boy’s cauldron? Am I tapping into the mythopoetic mind? Am I looking for the invisible yarn that adorns the universe? The inscrutable trope, perhaps?
11:30pm
This stuff takes quite awhile to come on. It’s like a slow dance that burgeons in intensity over the course of hours. The slow simmering of a simile sounds appealing right about now. I don’t even know why. A strange thought. A strange universe. Most importantly, a strange mind that grapples with strangeness. Back to the flow…
12:20am
The energy is definitely flowing, irrevocably flowing throughout my mind and body. The tree that is right in front of my balcony just turned into a deer head. Verdant eyes. The words are getting harder to piece together now. The irrevocable energy flow doesn’t want to reduce itself to paltry words. I think a walk will do me good. Nature is a gallant ally.
1:10am
The pulsing veracity of NOW is like a variegated ball of wondrous, lithe energy. All thoughts emerge from the unfathomable center within my being, and then reach a surcease. Clarity seems to effortlessly and effervescently emanate from the calm poet within. Words on this page seem tactile and imbued with the essence of “mind stuff,” the glowing resin of the noetic faculty. All sense of time seems to have collapsed into the waveform of NOW. The ceiling is somehow sentient of its surroundings. My flesh seems to conceal and, paradoxically, reveal the secrets of eternal resplendence. Oneness is Gnosis, and Gnosis is Oneness. Words keep on glowing.
2:17am
The flesh is fortified by spirit. The blood of my body and the cactus are of one essence. The world is fortified by spirit. The blood of the earth and the cactus are of one essence. This is wholly understood in this shamanic trance that is now encroaching upon its seventh hour. The blood is strong, noble, and the abode of enlightenment. Rubedo: the cinnabar of the alchemists. Thoughts seem spherical and composed of the same stuff as distant nebulae and wispy clouds. Power. There is power in this Peruvian torch. A lion dwells in it.
3:30am
The visions are ancillary to the felt presence of the Other. The Other is unmistakably the benign, empowered, enlightened presence of the Wild Mind of Nature. Things are coming to a close now though. The apex has been trundled over. Now rest awaits me on the ground. It feels like I have inscribed these words before. I probably have. The holographic card shuffling of space and time is continuous. This has already unfolded, and yet it is new. Cycles.
6:30am
The mind is but one little ember occupying an animated skeleton now. The last few hours have been kind of hazy. I can’t believe I still feel this stuff subtly flowing within. My mind, my body, my spirit…all are still entranced by the mystical cactus. It feels like I have put in some overtime at the factory of the extended psyche. Sleep will surely come soon.
10:00am
I still haven’t gone to sleep yet. The entheogenic power of the Peruvian torch has definitely subsided, but I can still feel the afterglow. The deep journey continues on. The idyllic unfolding of intimations of poetic potency…the lost language of sacral plants…the movement of ideas…the promise of redemption…these things still linger.
After-trip ruminations: This was my second trip with Peruvian torch (trichocereus peruvianus), and this trip was way more intense than the first. The duration of the trip was remarkable. Even after ten hours of elapsed time had passed since the first bitter mouthful went in, I could still ecstatically feel the preternatural presence of a guiding, healing force. In hindsight, the walk I went on around 12:30am was monumental. While dialed into the extended mind of psychotropic space, I could see a dynamic play in the celestial, and a mirrored nature down here in the terrestrial. This relationship is epitomized by “the squaring of the circle,” where the square is a dimensional accomplishment of the celestial will, and the circle is the prior form of the square, or the prior state of consciousness of Adam Qadmon, Universal Man. I also came to see the streets and bays of south st. vital as tangential fractal pathways that have broken off from the first road in Winnipeg. Every street should pay homage to this first road.
I would recommend this stuff to anyone who is willing to journey for a long time in mental spaces of luxurious beauty and terror. As I stated around the seventh hour, “A lion dwells in it”.
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