20mg consumed with The Machine.Hadn't mastered the technique of consumption so was rather inefficient, but as a description of a first experience it is a fond memory. Hope you enjoy!
Report:Bizarre reflections appear in the glass bottle; the lighter and candles’ flames dance in the glass. Is this new or have I never looked this close before? A fizzing crackle, vapours rise – hold it, hold it.
A pair of wizened hands appear to be gripping a glass bottle – wrinkled, unnatural; but I realise, mine. They must be set aside. An exhale of all the muscle tension – arms fall, head lolls back, the warmth ensues.
My whole body receives this liquid embrace, as if I am being caressed all over by one who has known me my whole life. I stare at my living room ceiling - I see her. She is golden with blue lines which echo like layers of sediment, but layers as lavish as Baroque embellishments. No face, no limbs, but a she. She dances for me, soothes me; letting me know that I could never do otherwise, but be with her. She may have had others with her, or they were all extensions of her; I can’t recall. We had met before; this I was sure of. Maybe in other times before, but also in the sense of right now’s recurrence.
I sit: mouth agape (receiving her
agape); eyes wide; barely able to catch breath. Truly stunned into stasis – all orifices, which can intake information, wide to try and drink in this timeless moment. As she dances, we fly to different rooms; the ceiling where I see her the same, but all the walls morph and change. At one time a Renaissance palace, a stone villa, a plush apartment, and many other indescribable spaces.
She shows me all that she could offer me with her warmth and love; my mind overwhelmed by this caring air drifts to the trappings of lust. She lets me know all the unimaginable ways that she could satiate this, but also that this should not be the goal.
I lose sight of her, she becomes distant. At first, I sense that she no longer occupies the repeating forms that I see, then they too subside - I now only feel her warmth. The walls and candles dance, flicker holding her residual glow. I bundle up in my blanket and smile, close my eyes, reminisce.
It all fades as quickly as it appeared, and I realise this was only a fleeting wave in the street; she had come to me for this brief first greeting to let me know that I should not fear leaving myself to come to her. And I decide, in time I shall.
Nature is not mute; it is man who is deaf. - Big T