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		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt;DOSE:&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;3 hits&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;oral&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-substance&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/chemicals/lsd/&quot;&gt;LSD&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;(liquid)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
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         &lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;!-- Start Body --&gt;
So, well, I guess I&#x27;ll start from the begining and tell this whole tale in a linear sort of way, complete with numbers on a clock, distances, and so on. This is how I remember it all, and it&#x27;s surprisingly fresh in my memory too. Be forewarned, however, that it probably won&#x27;t make much sense to the outside observer - you had to be there. But back then in the heart of the immense maelstrom it made perfect sense, the bizarre logic was pure and simple and undeniable. It was, as I would say near the end of the ordeal when I began to regain my grip on reality (or rather normalcy), as if someone had stretched reality - space and time - to the size of the entire Universe while at the same time crushed it into something the size of a marble, and then, in the end, obliterated it all completely. But it was more than that. It was a journey into my inner-universal depths where I was taught, firsthand, lessons of a lifetime. It was as if someone froze one millionth of a milli-millisecond of time in my brain and one millionth of milli-millimeter of space in my brain and crushed it into a miniscule bubble where I could explore freely, all while they stretched it out across the entire cosmos. And it was all in my mind all along. This whole affair didn&#x27;t really teach me anything new, it just let me experience the knowledge of my brain first hand.
&lt;br&gt;
	 
&lt;br&gt;
It was decided, T and I would take the acid on Saturday afternoon. We&#x27;d talked about it for a while and concluded that it was worth a try. So we made our intentions for the journey clear and awaited whatever it was that would greet us on the other side of the drug we slipped into our tea. I must say that is was both nothing what I expected and exactly what I expected at the same time. My intentions, though, are what made it what it was.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
~part1~	
&lt;br&gt;
we drank our tea spiked with three sugarcubes of LSD and waited. At first I wondered if it would work at all. Maybe the sugar had broken down the chemical already, making it useless. Maybe the sugarcubes didn&#x27;t really contain any LSD at all, although I was pretty convinced against that idea recalling the strange undefinable  taste the tainted sugarcubes left in my tea. Time passed anxiously with no signs of what was to come. I took off my watch, not wanting to be bothered with the analytical thoughts which usually fill my mind. Time still crept slowly on. I began to see reflections in T&#x27;s glasses more clearly; was I beginning to trip or was this me being hypercritical of my thoughts, overly aware due to the anticipation of real visions to come? The candle on the table flashed out of the corner of my eye and when I looked at it directly it seemed somewhat brighter, more luminous. I got up from my seat on the floor feeling strange sensations in my body, mostly my legs and an upset stomach, and decided that a chair with some back support would be desirable. I sat across from T and we talked. She seemed miles away, though there was probably only five feet or so between us. She had an upset stomach as well, so she put her hand upon the disturbance, claiming that her hand felt incredibly warm. I decided I had to go sit with T on the couch. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Moving my legs to walk over felt somehow foreign, but I bridged the gigantic gulf between us with relative ease quite quickly. We sat together and hugged. T put her hand on my stomach and it felt incredibly warm and comforting, &#x27;like a heating pad&#x27; I mentioned. Nikido, T&#x27;s cat, wandered in looking for some affection. It rubbed up against us and wanted to stand on my knee, but I soon became anxious with the cats presence on my body, in my energy field, and had to shoo it away. It stood for a while at the end of the couch and eyed us curiously, obviously knowing something was up. We told Nikido it was okay, we were just experimenting. She seemed okay with that. I began to see T and Nikido and I as living beings. Yes, I could instantly tell the living beings in the room apart from the inanimate objects; there was a strange aura around us three, a faint grey shroud covering our bodies. I watched the ceiling for a minute, the patterns from the paint moving slightly, a queer optical illusion. We sat together for a while but I began to feel antsy, my body was bursting full of restless energy. I stood up and walked around the living room. &#x27;My legs alternatingly feel weightless and then all of a sudden leaden like they&#x27;re made of sand,&#x27; I told T. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I began noticing ever so slight changes in perception. I remember wondering if this was it, thinking I had expected something far different, something more, and I began to desire a deeper experience - I wanted it to be more profound, not just some silly optical illusions. That&#x27;s something I grapple with in my real life too, the desire for more more more, instead of simply relaxing into the present experience and enjoying it for all its beauty and magnificence. T and I got thirsty and headed to the kitchen for some water. We both held our water glasses tightly, and I over the sink. &#x27;I feel like I&#x27;m gonna drop this glass,&#x27; I told T. She laughed and held her glass tight. We talked more about this and that as the visuals became stranger. T said she saw some sort of mask in the window across from hers. I couldn&#x27;t see the mask but I could see the bricks in the adjacent building moving in and out of the wall. I suddenly had to pee. I left the kitchen and headed down the hall. I was only gone for a minute but it felt much longer and I was very anxious to get back to T. Washing up I saw my face in the mirror and it appeared much more round than usual, a great sphere. I saw every pimple on my face magnified and some began to erupt like volcanoes. The same self-consciousness (though even more intense) from my everyday life hit me, but, thankfully, it vanished after I looked away and headed back to the kitchen. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I suddenly felt extremely cold and had to put on my sweater. T began explaining something to me which I cannot now remember and, in fact, I don&#x27;t think I was listening very well. It was becoming increasingly difficult to consciously focus my attention on any one thing, though when my attention was focused it was my full attention and I could observe things more thoroughly in ways I never could before. A half opened cupboard door looked like it was swinging towards me from out my peripheral vision. I turned sharply and it stood still. I closed it tightly. &#x27;It&#x27;s getting kind of hard to speak straight,&#x27; I told T. &#x27;It&#x27;s getting tough to turn thoughts into words, the ideas all get jumbled up in the process.&#x27; Then, &#x27;it&#x27;s quite a process turning abstract thoughts into concrete words. Thoughts and words are so totally different but they need each other for the sake of communication,&#x27; (though probably not quite so wordy). T had to go to the bathroom (I think) and I decided I liked the living room a bit better than the kitchen so I sauntered on in there. The happy birthday balloon I had picked up earlier became a great toy, bouncing it off my hand, observing its weightlessness. ‘Every time I hit this up in the air its a new feeling,&#x27; I thought. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Someone walked outside for a smoke and I saw them through the window. I watched her go about her business, this strange human ghost of reality, and felt as if I had to hide, she could see me through the window. I ducked into the corner and marveled at her wordly confidence mask as she acted out her life. After she went back inside I watched another person brush the snow off their car while they pretended to be confident, self-assured. T came back into the room and we bounced our blue balloon back and forth. I explained the incident with her neighbour to her. &#x27;That&#x27;s kind of like me in my life.&#x27; she told me. &#x27;Both literally and figuratively.&#x27; &#x27;It&#x27;s funny how we all hide within ourselves sometimes and are scared to let others see what&#x27;s inside,&#x27; said I. We discussed this fear, this self-doubt, for a minute and it felt like we were really resolving these issues within ourselves; dissolving our fear. We soon decided we should go outside; we were starting to get quite high and quite restless, and besides it was getting dark out. We went to get our jackets and shoes on. I began to see Nikido out of the corner of my eye wherever I went. Really it was just shoes and socks and backpacks and various other inanimate objects scattered about the floor but in my peripheral vision it looked like T&#x27;s cat. Then I&#x27;d turn and . . . socks, just socks. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I wanted to find the real Nikido though and went on a mission to do that, finding her on the corner of T&#x27;s bed, just where I thought she&#x27;d be; almost like I already knew. We conversed nose to nose for a moment then it was back to the mission - get on warm winter clothes. The sun was beginning to set and we wanted to get outside quickly before it was dark, but that was not such an easy task. My perception of time was beginning to become skewered but it must have taken quite a while to get dressed and ready to go. I had made a great friend of our blue balloon, which seemed to grow and shrink as I held it in my hand, and I realized that I had become quite emotionally attached to it. It was something that gave me comfort and, much like in real life, I had great difficulty giving it up. T giggled at me trying to put my socks on with the balloon in my one hand and then in my lap, sitting. Eventually I decided the balloon must go and with a substantial amount of difficuly I set it on the floor, forgetting about it almost immediately. I grabbed some granola bars and oranges for our journey into the outside world (unneeded where we were going) and got dressed with surprising ease. Even my shoelaces were a snap. T packed a backpack full of stuff (water and who knows what) and took a considerable amount of time longer than I did. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I began to get somewhat frustrated with waiting for her, another cross-over from regular life. I need to be more patient with her sometimes I think. Even though I don&#x27;t often show signs of my impatience and frustration on the outside I tend to internalize it and that&#x27;s probably even worse, building up resentment and more and more frustration. But at the time it really didn&#x27;t bother me too much for I had plenty to keep me occupied. She finally got ready and I felt like we were going on a long journey, which I related to T. &#x27;We are,&#x27; she told me rather matter-of-fact-ly. And we two brave inner-universal timespace explorers set off. T worried that Nikido had somehow gotten out of the apartment but I knew just where to find her - on her throne at the end of T&#x27;s bed, &#x27;her center, her place of power&#x27; (T&#x27;s words) - right where I had left her. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
~part 2~
&lt;br&gt;
outside we went. T was shocked at the temperature change when we first stepped outdoors, but I didn&#x27;t even notice it. It seemed where my attention lay was from where my experience would manifest itself. My attention was on our space (and  time) explorers theme and as we walked down the alley I felt as if we were walking down a launch tunnel of sorts. 3. 2. 1. Blast off! and out into space we dived. A one way roadsign pointed us in our direction, though we soon passed another which pointed the opposite way. I began thinking of these white arrows as guide signs between two realities. T and I started talking about how much power we have to create our own lives, our own realities. I became a touch spooked as we passed by a busy parking lot. T mentioned some metaphor about vehicles and our lives which slips my mind. Soon we were crossing the bridge by the museum. Cars buzzed by to our left, headlights blurring. &#x27;We&#x27;re on Broadway,&#x27; I told T. I felt like an old fashioned gangster, no better yet, mobster, like in Dick Tracy, and I began to swagger. &#x27;Just stick with me doll,&#x27; said I. Then &#x27;I feel like I should be smoking a big cigar here. I should be wearing a tuxedo and you should have a long evening dress.&#x27; &#x27;And a string of porls,&#x27; T added in her best New Yawk accent. Me: &#x27;We&#x27;re on broadway doll. . . .&#x27; 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Across the bridge and we wanted to cross the street now; better go to the crosswalk, our judgement quickly becoming severly disabled. &#x27;Now I feel like we&#x27;re in a comic strip. An Andy Capp comic,&#x27; said I, still walking with my same swagger, now more pronounced. As we crossed the street I bowed comically to the cars stopping for us. I suddenly felt T&#x27;s embarrassment as if through telepathy. She might have said &#x27;B, don&#x27;t&#x27; embarrassed but maybe I just heard it in through our sudden ESP connection. &#x27;Who cares?&#x27; I wondered aloud, &#x27;who cares what these people are thinking for one milli-millisecond of their passing lives?&#x27; &#x27;Yeah . . .&#x27; T seemed to agree. &#x27;You&#x27;re right . . .&#x27; telepathically. We walked around by the museum, marvelling at the Christmas lights and trees. &#x27;Look at the trees,&#x27; T said as we stood beneath two massive firs. &#x27;They&#x27;re so beautiful and huge and old. Just like those other ones over there,&#x27; pointing at some smaller trees across the road. &#x27;They&#x27;re just alike.&#x27; &#x27;Cause they&#x27;re all exactly the same,&#x27; said the Buddhist in me, referring to the interconnectedness of everything. We stood beneath some flagpoles and I listened to the sound of the flags flapping in the eastwind which made me kind of disoriented. We stopped for a moment and talked about who knows what, I don&#x27;t remember. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
But I soon felt very antsy again and wanted to keep keeping on our inner-universal timespace journey. T stood while I explored the environs. Sliding on a patch of ice I felt like I slid forever but looking back at my tracks it was only a few feet. I slid around on the ice for a minute dancing a wonderful moonlight ballet and wrote &#x27;Love&#x27; in the fresh snow. Then I rushed back to T shouting &#x27;mission complete space commander T, let&#x27;s go!&#x27; and off we went, although I knew somehow that T wanted to stay still for a little longer. There&#x27;s that impatience again. But I just felt the need to go go go, I burned like a candle. I began dancing slightly as I walked now, prancing maybe is the word, hyper, giddy, completely mad. I leapt up onto the edge of what in the summer is a water pond and almost cracked my head open slipping on the slip-slidey surface but managed to land upright. Okay, then, my motor skills are still functioning well enough. We passed some old-fashioned streetlights and they riveted my attention, but, like anything else I lent my attention to, only for a second. &#x27;I feel like Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas,&#x27; I told T looking at the old rickety fences and old-fashioned streetlamps at our side. &#x27;First it was a mobster, then a comic strip character, now The Nightmare Before Christmas.&#x27; 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We stopped in a mostly empty parking lot and I heard a loud, screeching, catlike sound. &#x27;That&#x27;s the electricity,&#x27; T informed me. &#x27;You heard that too? I thought it was some crazy cat woman over there.&#x27; I said. T laughed. &#x27;Nope. Sometimes I hear the electricity when I&#x27;m sober.&#x27; I doubt it&#x27;s so loud though. My ears had definitely perked up. Which direction now we weren&#x27;t so sure with no signs to guide our way. &#x27;Sometimes I feel stuck, like I&#x27;m waiting for something,&#x27; T communicated. I thought about our relationship and how sometimes I&#x27;m scared to take the lead for whatever reason. &#x27;Waiting for what?&#x27; I asked. &#x27;I don&#x27;t know, like life. For the fear to go away,&#x27; and we continued on this train of thought until suddenly I had a grand realization, I had to reach out and grab life; I had to take the lead, both in this situation and life, forget fear. And I did. &#x27;Let&#x27;s go.&#x27; I decided and off we went, probably when T again needed more time. But again, I had to go go go . . . I had somehow become the default leader of our litle expedition. We walked down a little gradual hill. &#x27;This feels like a movie, or a book. I feel like were in a book. Or a movie, the movie of our lives,&#x27; I said. I was Willy Wonka and the whole world was my chocolate factory and here I was guiding the little golden ticket winner on through this psychedelic madhouse. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
At the bottom of the little hill we met the top of a massive hill, snowy and slippery looking and quite a daunting slope in our inebriated state. Neither of us wanted to go down, or rather we were afraid of the big hill which in our normal state we had tramped up and down numerous times. In this dream it was scarier though. But with my recent realization that I had to grab life by the balls without fear I said fuck it and threw myself on the mercy of the hill.  T followed. This kind of became the starting point of our true journey. Down the hill, down the rabbit hole. We weren&#x27;t getting high, we were going low, or rather deep; deep into our dreaming awake minds. Out into the great non-timespace of our internal universe. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
~part3~
&lt;br&gt;
down the hill I flew. I noticed to my left a long narrow patch of snow reaching all the way to the bottom of the hill and I decided that I could simply jump upon this and rocket my way sliding to the hill&#x27;s base in an instant. I jumped on prepared for a wild ride but was unfortunately surprised by the stickiness of my chute. It was dirt underneath the snow. The long grass beside me, on the other hand, was quite slippery as T found out. We stopped about halfway down and T said &#x27;I thought I could just slide down the whole hill like a ski jump.&#x27; So did I. &#x27;You can,&#x27; I told her, just realizing myself that, yes, you could. And so T took off running, flailing, quite comical. I laughed, I thought it was beautiful. For a second I wanted to help her, thinking that she might fall and hurt herself, but some voice inside of me told me not to worry, T can handle herself. I ran down the hill after her and transformed into a gazelle as I ran. I actually had four legs and kind of trotted-ran, moving faster, I&#x27;m sure, than I ever had before in my life, lightspeed. I bumped into T trying to slow down as I reached flat ground. &#x27;Whoops, sorry.&#x27; &#x27;No don&#x27;t worry.&#x27; I looked up at the big, once scary hill and laughed. &#x27;I feel like I could just run right back up that hill right now and not even be out of breath,&#x27; I said. &#x27;We are mighty gods T.&#x27; 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Then, not wanting to make the mighty gods angry, &#x27;but really we&#x27;re just tiny little lost human beings.&#x27; True. We walked. We headed for the trees; the talking, swaying, breathing life trees. I kept thinking there was a car behind us, shining its headlights on us, and I kept turning to check; nope, nothing. But the ground at our feet looked bright like a light shone on it from above or behind. I heard helicopters and it felt like they were beaming their searchlights down on us two inner-universal timespace fugitives. We walked in the snow looking down and it seemed as if we were walking on cracking eggshells which covered the neverending void; naught but blackness below. We two courageous explorers found our way down near the river and followed a path as the helicopters followed. Soon another timespace explorer approached, although for the longest time, indeed until he was almost right upon us, I thought he was a trailmarking signpost. &#x27;No, it is a person,&#x27; T said. &#x27;You&#x27;re right,&#x27; said I, &#x27;and he&#x27;s crossing some sort of a bridge.&#x27; Funny though, I never remembered a bridge being anywhere around here. It was short and had guardrails on one side. I couldn&#x27;t tell how far away our visitor was; distance was now impossible to gauge. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
He approached and I realized that it wasn&#x27;t a bridge with guardrails at all but rather two dogs (huskies maybe?), whom our visitor was walking. I tried to be calm, pass by nice and slow, nice and easy, but all that failed and I said &#x27;good evening fine sir,&#x27; in a strange tone and laughed. The one thing that got me though was how real this queer eskimo timespace astronaut seemed. &#x27;How did that real person get into our dreaming dreamworld dreams?&#x27; I asked T. And T: &#x27;Yeah, he did seem so real, hey?&#x27; Our eskimo friend seemed the first real thing I had seen in hours, years, millennia, who knows, for time had stopped having meaning, as had space, and the numerals we give to those two abstract concepts. &#x27;Thank you O indian, O real life eskimo in our dreamy dream world,&#x27; I called out to our eskimo timespace friendly fugitive after he had passed. T laughed. &#x27;This is great,&#x27; she said. &#x27;Yeah, this is great . . .&#x27; And suddenly reality returned. No, maybe I just calmed myself down for a minute, because the sky was still brilliant purple-orange, the hills and trees still had ancient carved faces, the helicopters still followed . . . but I thought to myself &#x27;this is it, the trip&#x27;s over.&#x27; and I walked calmly now beside an ever calm T. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We walked in silence and I gazed around serenely. The hills seemed to speak to me in their ancient way, through their stillness. I was lost in the barrens, far, far from the world, but not scared at all. T and I talked about how we felt we were on a different journey, but together. We were like anchors for each other, keeping ourselves from going off the deep end, but still helping each other to explore on this great psychonautical inner-universal journey into non- timespace. I didn&#x27;t want the trip to end, there was still something I was looking for; I still wanted more more more. An airplane flew overhead and I ducked, it was sooooclose to the ground, the noise was intense. Moving my head made the noise alter too. Maybe I still was tripping. &#x27;We are still so high B,&#x27; T calmly reminded me. Oh, yeah . . . We found a patch of ice on the trail which we ejoyed slip-sliding on. T slip-slided away but I became a bit confused with what was going on, where we were going, where I was going, both in life and on this journey. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I wandered in circles, a lost little human figure in the confusing wilderness of life - whatever that was. Time didn&#x27;t exist. If you would have asked me right then how long we had been out there, or in here, I would have probably said about six years, or seven maybe . . . minutes ; ; ; who knows . . . now, with my logical mind back intact, I could estimate from the amount of ground we covered, et cetera, et cetera. but right then time really didn&#x27;t exist. And it wasn&#x27;t that I couldn&#x27;t keep track of it, no, it really didn&#x27;t exist, and I knew this in my heart, from this universal perspective I then had. And neither did space. Just an optical illusion. We create our reality within our mind. Our poisoned mind of the time created this bizarre, illogical, reality, but it was every bit as real as our normal reality, because we were really experiencing it. We, therefore, have the power within ourselves to create whatever we want out of our reality, our lives, our existence . . . existence . . . &#x27;existence . . .&#x27; I murmured circling around T as we discussed this. Just get out there, quit waiting or hesitating, quit walking up this backwards escalator of your life, grab life and make it your own, whatever you want it to be. And ‘I wish I had taken a typewriter into this dream with me to write all this down, later it will probably be forgotten, or just somewhat illogical.&#x27;  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
But these things still do make sense, as they did before the trip ever began. See, I knew all this already, or at least I thought I knew; the drugs didn&#x27;t teach me any new knowledge. But knowledge and wisdom are two different things. Then (during the trip), I really knew all this deep in my heart, now (back in normal life), I just know it, but don&#x27;t feel it. I&#x27;ve lost the universal perspective I had during my mystical journey. LSD expanded my mind so I could see my own internal universe, there&#x27;s no doubt about that, but unfortunately it was a temporary glance; I&#x27;ll have to do with waning memories of this experience, for now. But me and T were truly enlightened beings just then, two inner-universal timespace fugitives exploring this pyrotenknik outer world from our self-created universal center. Just then the helicopters spotted us. I grabbed T and hugged her tight, knowing this was the end. &#x27;I feel like we&#x27;re Bonnie and Clyde right now ol&#x27; T,&#x27; I said as the helicopters aimed their guns, ready to take us out. But then I remembered that, oh yeah, we create our own reality and I bade the helicopters goodbye, good riddance, piss off! and away they went, simply vanished . . . All of these realizations had come to me periodically and repeatedly, as reoccuring themes, throughout the evening, as they had to T as well. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We had somehow reached the same conclusions while on two seperate trips (though the same trip); perhaps through our psychic connection. And perhaps that is just what we unconsciously (or not so unconsciously) intended; the power of our intentions was supremely strong. All of this wisdom was just read, contemplated knowledge kicking around in our heads that we didn&#x27;t know how to apply to our reality, but this crazy drug solidified these beliefs by actually letting us experience it first hand. This was experiential wisdom, experiential spirituality, rather than just vicarious knowledge. But while tripping I fully created my reality and I realized just how easy it can be, I just have to control my mindful mind in each decision-making moment. Even now that I&#x27;m back to normal reality and I can&#x27;t see so easily, so shockingly clearly, this first-hand wisdom, I still know it&#x27;s there. I can still create my reality, my life, however I choose. There&#x27;s nothing to fear, nothing to doubt, I just have to quit waiting, hesitating, walking up that backwards escalator of life, and reach out and grab life! 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
So, with helicopters gone and the trip is definitely not over, T and I continued on. We walked along the path which became increasingly icy and I became increasingly lost. I looked at my feet and at the asphalt and snow speeding past. Bicycle tracks in ths snow became tank treads, footprints the boots of marching soldiers, I was in a war zone. As I focused my attention solely on the ground I found that I lost complete knowledge of where I was, I could have been in Russia for all I knew or really cared. But looking up I discovered that I was just in Edmonton, in the river valley, with T, going for a delightful evening stroll. Lightning began flashing in the sky for a few minutes. We stopped again, slip-sliding on the ice, and noticed someone behind us carrying a light of some sort. A bicyclist. &#x27;Don&#x27;t tread this way, ‘tis too icy for one on a bicycle,&#x27; I warned our new friend. They stopped, surveyed for a less perilous trail, and continued on foot along a trial just up a small hill from us. &#x27;What is someone doing way out here in the middle of nowhere at this time?&#x27; I wondered aloud. The cyclist walked past as we whispered. &#x27;I wonder if they can hear us,&#x27; I whispered almost inaudibly, although I&#x27;d bet that the cyclist heard everything we said loud and clear; my perception of distance and volume were lousy. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We got cold - ah, yes, we must be coming down (or going back up, as it were) if we&#x27;re starting to complain about the weather. But my mind wouldn&#x27;t buy that. My hands would though as I suddenly noticed how painfully cold they were, my face too. How could I have ignored that for this whole trip? We turned back, straight into the wind (of course), heading for T&#x27;s apartment, warmth. I was mostly lost but knew to head for the bright city lights - oh how they radiated their seductive glow. The wind whipped at us and instantaneously the trees began to bend in towards me, try and grab me. For the first time in the trip I was truly frightened. Fortunately, it only lasted a second as I took control and snapped myself back into safety, into my own secure, stable psychedelic reality. We walked into the wind and talked increasingly about seemingly trivial things - I&#x27;m cold, I&#x27;m hungry, I&#x27;ve got to pee. Hmm, are we coming down? Yep . . . no way . . . maybe . . . Then T mentioned something about &#x27;work&#x27;, that hideous, awful word, and I knew that we were on our way slowly back to earth, out of our deep inner-timespace universe that was always there to begin with. 
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&lt;br&gt;
~part4~
&lt;br&gt;
we stood, still quite high, at the bottom of the hill we had come racing down earlier as gazelles in the snowy ski jumping alps, and got ready to walk backwards up that escalator. It took us quite some time to get up that hill, and I know this because time was beginning to seep back into my consciousness as neat little numbered units again. I was okay now with the thought of coming down and almost looked forward to greeting the normal world again, however bizarre and backwards it seemed after having been away for so long. We slowly weaved our way back into reality as we climbed that hill, discussing our trip, sharing insight. &#x27;This has changed my life forever&#x27; I remember thinking. Halfway up the hill and normalcy took charge more and more. Three quarters up and if I focused hard I wouldn&#x27;t feel high at all. I was somewhere between two worlds and I could make complete sense of the things I had learned in my dreamscape and apply it to normal life situations; that was a great feeling, though passing. We reached the top and kept walking, freezing cold, tired, hungry. 
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&lt;br&gt;
I felt almost entirely sober by the time we crossed over that Broadway bridge again. The weave into normalcy continued &#x27;like one of those old-fashioned phone operators. All our normal plugs were disconnected and reconnected somewhere else, now they&#x27;re all getting switched back again, back to how they normally are.&#x27; We finally reached T&#x27;s house and after a hell of a time turning the key in the lock with our frozen hands we found warmth again. I had to pee, I had to eat. My left hand thumb wouldn&#x27;t work and I wasn&#x27;t sure whether it was because of the cold (our hands were bright red and white knuckled) or because of the drugs still at work in my mind. We sat in T&#x27;s kitchen and talked, ate some veggie lasagna (which I could vaguely smell! for the first time in my life!(I have no sense of smell)), and drew pictures of The Pyrotenknik Lightning Bubble!  I noticed that as time passed we talked more and more superficially, or maybe just more confined, less universal. I found myself at times getting annoyed at the turns in the conversation. Both of us had troubles with keeping a train of thought together and we&#x27;d dart from one topic to another, I think often not really picking up what the other person was saying with their words (though we still did have that psychic connection somewhat). 
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&lt;br&gt;
My back hurt, I grew confused at what had just happened as many of the millions of thoughts I had had began to escape me in the mish-mosh of words words words. Patience B . . . T and I took a bath together and eventually went to bed at about two in the morning, approximately twelve hours after our inner-universal timespace journey had begun, though it seemed longer. I slept well, though T complained about her thoughts keeping her awake most of the night. We parted ways in the morning and I felt kind of crappy, confused about what I had learned, what it all meant, how it applied to this reality that I must occupy in order to live. So when I got home I sat down and started writing. This scrawl has been therapy for me, it&#x27;s helped me work through this whole crazy experience. I get it now, I think . . . I am in control of my reality. I can do whatever I choose with my life, my reality. I just need to stop walking up that backwards escalator of life, quit waiting, hesitating, and get out there and grab what I want. And I suppose I already knew that before LSD, but that crazy trip has really solidified these beliefs in my mind, really given me the motivation to create my reality. Now, how to actually manifest this creation is another matter altogether and I do feel somewhat confused as to how all this wisdom can be applied to my everyday life. 
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Being mindful, making wise choices, taking risks and overpowering fear, and so on, I suppose . . . The bottom line is that when I look deep inside of myself I do know what I have to do, I always have really, and after yesterday&#x27;s brilliant inner-universal timespace voyage I feel as if I&#x27;m finally ready.&lt;!-- End Body --&gt;
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&lt;table border=&quot;0&quot; cellpadding=&quot;5&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;footdata&quot;&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;700&quot;&gt;Exp Year: 2004&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 39028&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gender: Male&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Age at time of experience: Not Given&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Published: Oct 27, 2005&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 58,348&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;[ &lt;a href=&quot;exp.php?ID=39028&amp;amp;format=pdf&quot; type=&quot;text/pdf&quot;&gt;View as PDF (for printing)&lt;/a&gt; ] [ &lt;a href=&quot;exp_pdf.php?ID=39028&amp;amp;format=latex&quot;&gt;View as LaTeX (for geeks)&lt;/a&gt; ]
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot;&gt;LSD (2) : General (1), Small Group (2-9) (17)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;!--  &lt;img src=&quot;/images/new.gif&quot; alt=&quot;May&quot;&gt; --&gt;
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