The Seedy Side

Seeing as how this is a personal blog, I figured I would actually post something related to a personal experience I had for a change. My life is pretty boring, generally speaking, so this is somewhat unusual.

I'm an occasional drug user. Yeah, I guess that's not really an amazing revelation. Generally speaking, I only really indulge in cannabis, but I've had the chance to ingest a variety of drugs (except for hard stuff like heroin, cocaine, and all the "bad" drugs that DARE warned me not to even glance at lest I become immediately addicted and destroy not only my life but the lives of everyone within a 20-mile radius of my person.)

For the unaware, the seeds of the morning glory plant contain a chemical called lysergic acid amide. If that sounds somewhat familiar, it's because it is similar in chemical makeup to another substance called lysergic acid diethylamide, or LSD, a powerful hallucinogen. LSA differs from LSD in a few key ways -- for instance, LSA isn't nearly as powerful as its chemical cousin, and it has more of a sedative effect than LSD, which is a stimulant in addition to a psychedelic.

The Heavenly Blue variety of the morning glory flower

Seeing as how LSA is found in the seeds of the morning glory plant (and said seeds can be procured easily, from any lawn-and-garden store), it's not difficult to imagine that people will use it recreationally. Thus, I imagined myself taking LSA in a recreational fashion. A couple of years ago, I purchased a sizable batch of morning glory Heavenly Blue seeds (I believe it was 2,000 or so), anticipating that I would eventually consume them and experience the effects. Below is a recounting of said experience.

I typed this up as a submission to the fantastic Erowid's "trip report" archive. I'm not sure if it will be accepted and lodged into their archives, but I figured I would post it here as well for curious readers of my blog (whatever that small number is.) This is identical to what I submitted, with a few minor formatting changes. The report is after the break.

Approximately 400 Heavenly Blue seeds

Poems and Prose #44 - Amplitude

I'm buffeted by a whistling gale,
as I hunch forward,
trying vainly to lower my profile.

My skin turns red,
then purple,
then blue,
the epidermis
slowly ceding to the dermis,
and the chapping chill
growing warmer
with each moment.

It's hard to keep my eyes open,
but I can see an object
just up ahead
in my brief glimpses.

I hope it's shelter,
or, if nothing else, a deep ravine.

Poems and Prose #43 - Veer

Here, I careen,
swerving between
tall posts and debris,
certain these things
aren't the afterdreams
of a fiend.

My speed softens,
and I relent,
marvelling at how badly
my back has gone bent,
grumbling that the moonrise
can't as of yet be seen.

Poems and Prose #42 - Adjacency

Masses around me gyrate,
resonating quietly,
compelling me to ponder
   what brought me abreast
   with this ruinous state.

Now I kneel and lie prostrate,
chuckling solemnly,
acknowledging, at long last,
   the true meaning
   of these passing dates.

Poems and Prose #41 - Mounted

Stuck atop a swaying hill,
I unzip my waistpack and pull out a pill,
then stick it in my mouth
and chew until it's swill,
smiling through a grimace
and my moistened, black eyesills,
as the ground beneath me
subtly comes to a dreamy, dull standstill.

Poems and Prose #40 - Linear

Dire straits,
   these,
filled with
   rustic creeds,
toppling through
   the valley
   clenching wads
   of soggy things.

The midpoint passed,
   we recede,
claiming stellar
   deeds,
our eyes fixed
   to the floor
   as our blushing faces,
   inside, bleed.

The final gate
   breathes,
jostled gently
   by the breeze,
sheened with grit,
   gunk, and goop
   that the solo
   travelers bring.

Bare moments
   seized,
I adust
   my speed,
the objects
   whizzing by,
   turned to specks
   that barely sting.

Poems and Prose #39 - Melt

Enemies, we,
   laugh, smile, and sing,
and fling ourselves
   willingly into debauchery.

The frazzled lightbulbs
   flicker dramatically,
amplifying the clarity
   of everything they see.

My partner and I
   proceed now with ease,
toward the sewer's
   fresh effluvia release,

nodding our noggins
   to the songs that we sing,
mere mimics of the lyrics
   of some bygone brand's breed.

Poems and Prose #38 - Bobbing

Unmoored,
   I drift from the shore,
My curse-filled laughter
   of note to both
   the engaged and the bored,
And I widen my eyes
   to see if I can spy
   the first signs that suggest
   there might be something more.

Poems and Prose #37 - Degrade

I'm corrupt,

   so what does that make you?

A conspirator?

   Or just someone stewing

   in a diarrheal stew?

I'd ask again,

   but I've got a hefty clue

that you're too

   caught up in excrement

   to know what the hell to do.