Hello

So, that was like an introduction

Now for some preaching to the choir on the subject of "How come it is that the further in you go, the bigger it gets?"

I remember the very first time I smoked DMT. It was sort of a benchmark, you might say. And I remember that this friend of mine (who always got there first) visited me with this little glass pipe and this stuff which looked like orange moth balls

And since I was a graduate of Dr. Hoffman's, I figured there were no surprises. So, the only question I asked was "How long does it last?". And he said, "Oh, about five minutes." So, I did it

And there was (uh) something like a flower, like a chrysanthemum in orange and yellow that was sort of spinning, spinning. And then, it was like I was pushed from behind, and I fell through the chrysanthemum into another place that didn't seem like a state of mind: it seemed like another place. And what was going on in this place—aside from the tastefully soffited, indirect lighting, and the crawling, geometric hallucinations along the dome walls—what was happening was that there were a lot of (uh) beings in there: a lot of what I call "self-transforming machine elves", sort of like jewelled basketballs, all dribbling their way toward me. And if they'd had faces they'd have been grinning; but, they didn't have faces. And they assured me that they loved me, and they told me not to be amazed; not to give way to astonishment. And so, I watched them even though I wondered if maybe I hadn't really done it this time

And what they were doing was they were making objects come into existence by singing them into existence—objects which looked like Fabergé eggs from Mars morphing themselves with Mandaean alphabetical structures. They looked like the concrescence of linguistic intentionality, but through a kind of hyperdimensional transform into three-dimensional space

And these little machines offered themselves to me; and I realized, when I looked at them, that if I could bring just one of these little trinkets back, nothing would ever be quite the same again. And I wondered, "Where am I? And what is going on?" And it occurred to me that these must be holographic viral projections from an autonomous continuum that was somehow intersecting my own's. And then I thought a more elegant explanation would be to take it at face value, and realize that I had broken into an ecology of souls, and that somehow I was getting a peek over the other side; somehow, I was finding out that thing that you cheerfully assume you can't find out; but, it felt like I was finding out

And it felt—And then I can't remember what it felt like, because the little self-transforming tykes interrupted me and said, "Don't think about it. Don't think about who we are, think about doing what we're doing. Do it. Do it now. Do it!"