Spiralling Into Self

The following is a recorded stream of consciousness from during, and the days following expanded consciousness experiences. Primarily this was achieved through Changa (50%) DMT, but that is near irrelevant. I do not recommend this experience, I’m changed and I had a lot of scary encounters. But I don’t wish to gatekeep either. Trying DMT is more of a commitment that the online culture pushing it suggests, it’s just not what they say but also more in every sense. The intensity when you blow out the smoke cannot be articulated. You can be warned, you will not be ready regardless. The ‘drug’ is completely incomprehensible. It plays on existence itself, your experience of it. Everything you know as existence is tied to feelings or qualia, so the visuals and insights are cool — But when more qualia is presented you get more actual existence for the first time. Trying to explain it turns into word vomit, but that is a reflection of it’s indescribable nature.

The structure truly is a stream of thoughts, it would help if you follow it as so. I was going to edit the writings and structure them so they flow, but I decided to leave them as is. A record of my true thoughts at the time. I ask you not to judge too harshly, I’m just a person who went through a very intense period and is still trying to grapple with it. These thoughts were intrusive and bubbling to the surface all day for a short period. I’m aware of how they sound, but the feeling or qualia attached to them gives an ineffable quality, that makes them more than real to me.

I have no real goal or intention in sharing these few entries, but I’m happy to engage any thoughts you may have. I hope something resonates.

-A fellow traveller.

I tried to stare into the abyss, but there is no abyss. There is only everything. I saw too much, and I felt it all. The unknowable truths known to me for a brief moment, leaving behind a qualia of extra-existence. Life has never tasted this way before, and it will never taste the same again.

Headspace Preface;
Is it that we are in a universe that created a bunch of brains, or are we a bunch of brains that created a universe? Do a set of moments create or define time, or does time create and define a set of moments? Am I a passenger in an autonomous vehicle, or am I responsible for the crash? Free will is interesting. Damned if you do…

I think therefore I am, but what if someone else thinks for me? Am I… not? I much prefer you think therefore I am. A beautiful dance of creation and experience blending into the same thing. The reliance on observation by both parties in order to exist.

I don’t know if I am you, or you me. But I know we are both it. The self, the observer.

I’m saddened when I’m forced to engage in conflict; the world is full of expressions of self-hate. As we are all the self. The self, the true self, is fluid, contradictory, and the origin of all.

Saying goodbye is hard, but saying hello can be even harder. When you greet the true self, you say goodbye to so much. For the self to live, so many preconceived notions have to die. That includes you. Letting go of ego is what we know as death.

Good and bad seem like a duality most important to who we are, but what if there’s a third option above the others? Something more, more than morality. Something above human rationale.

The science I know to be true is the same, unchanged. Stable and absolute. I don’t think my experiences are contrary to this, but my experiences changed the way I see this same image. The world as I know it is the same, but I now see so much more than the science that can explain it all.

I can’t prove this, but I know it to be true. Humans, or whatever we represent. Be that intelligence, morality, or the soul, are very important to existence or at least this facet of existence.

External experiences change reality every time they happen. What both you and I know as this frame, our field of view, we have never experienced outside of. Until we do, and it changes ‘us’. It makes you question perception itself.

Look at the wall, it’s over there. Just right there, but where is the image that you see of the wall? Is that image on your eyes, in your head, or somewhere else? Try to reach out and grab the image, not the wall but the frame or the image itself. Where is the screen on which the image is projected? Where is it experienced from? We look through eyes, but we see with so much more.

There seems to be a facet of reality, a realm or dimension, that houses concepts, ideas, and an infinite recursion of information connecting to information. In this realm, ideas are alive, truly alive. Think of a doorway. This is a fundamental concept, a barrier between one place and the next. Doors represent change, transition. A door is not as much of a human creation as you would first think. It’s universal. The concept is alive and breathing. There are many such archetypes throughout our world that come from the grander existence.

Ideas can dream, and the concept of a concept is a concept.

Privacy is a false comfort that allows uninfluenced decision-making. This comfort, however false, is essential in our development. Restrictions on privacy are attacks on personal growth, maybe deliberately so.

My life thus far has been a montage of trauma and disappointments. I was bitter for a long time; the otherness was too much. But now I see the beauty of a complex narrative. I love and appreciate so deeply because that cavity was carved out of me. There is value to the other side of the coin. I am part of a beautiful tapestry. My role is not fun, but I have a role. And so do you.

I am an agony of my own creation. Choosing my own pain as it is my fate. Inescapable in its grasp. The seemingly self-destructive or restrictive qualities of ‘[Name Redacted]’ keep me in my role. And you, yours. Is this free will? Maybe we freely choose to be restricted.

We’ve lived a hundred billion lives here, and yet we are no closer to reaching the limitations of love. Experience is boundless. Qualia is forever. We are without end, lacking beginning, and stuck in the middle.

I want to talk about when I died. I don’t know if this was my first death, but it’s the first I can remember. I lived half of a life in another reality. I was someone else completely. It was real. There was no geometry or trippy elements. These were the memories of a dead man, but that man was me. Not ‘[Name Redacted]’, but ‘me’. I was happy. I know I had people I loved, family and purpose. During the experience, what now feels like a regular dream within dream timescales— was an actual lifetime. There was some form of accident. I was impaled from behind; there were protruding bars coming through my chest. I felt it. I felt myself die. It was painful. Around me formed a small crowd of terrified, shocked people. And then I woke up on the couch. My whole life there, 40+ years, started to fade rapidly like a dream as my original life came crashing back. The complete switching from being this man for 40 years to back to being myself in a few seconds was terrifying. I am still not okay from this. I can’t ever fully explain what happened, and I’ll never be able to make anyone else see how real it was. I cried deeply, and I am still so hurt that I can’t remember my life there anymore. I feel I lost a whole life that must have been double my own. My time scale when I came back was off for a while. I still feel strange. How can it be both yesterday and 40 years ago?

I never saw pearly gates or a finish line. I looked out at existence and only found more existence. It may not be eternal joy after this. I feel there is still more to be done. It can be really scary out there, and it certainly does not feel like that is the final resting place. This idea is undeveloped and underexplored by me, so this is complete speculation on top of my totally subjective experience. But reality feels layered. That may be the place I go when I die. But I feel there is more even still. An After-AfterLife, if you will.