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I've already had several experiences with DMT, but this one would prove to be eventful as my first

breakthrough experience. I've probably smoked DMT upwards of 15 times already, always in the form
of changa, and always at low enough doses that I remained grounded. I've always been fascinated by
the visuals and imagery of DMT and have enjoyed the long duration of changa (as opposed to freebase
DMT) as it enables me to go on short walks around my neighborhood, which conveniently has a nice
park, at night when there aren't many people out. The visuals are always stunning, and I am left with a
very upright feeling to my walking...I am incapable of moving slowly, as though my body is being
driven quickly to soak in as much as is possible in the short amount of time that I have...
It was about midnight, and I had just returned from a quiet evening with my girlfriend, getting dinner
and catching up. My roommate and I had discussed taking DMT this evening once we were all home,
but arriving home I discovered he and his girlfriend had already absconded upstairs and left me alone
for some time. When my roommate did finally descend into the living room, I could immediately tell
his mood and deportment were unusual. He seemed very calm. He informed me that the two of them
had smoked almost 8 times throughout the day...small amounts, threshold doses with little visual
change...and that he was now quite drained (although in a positive way). He described it as a 'chakric
enema'. I knew at this point that he wasn't going to join me in smoking more, nor would I have wanted
him to as 8 DMT experiences in a day seems unnecessarily high to me. At this point I actually had not
decided whether I was interested in smoking myself, as it would no longer be a collective activity, but
as he started to put on his sandals in an obvious effort to prepare to go out (and likely buy snacks or
cigarettes from the convenience store) I decided to pack a minor/moderate bowl and join him in his
trip. My intention was simply to enhance our short walk with some beauty. I hadn't smoked DMT in
over 3 months, and felt like I would need to re-acclimate myself to its nature in preparation for a
breakthrough in the coming months.
I got more than I bargained for.
0:00 I packed what I believed to be a moderate bowl, seemingly no more than I've smoked in the
past, though not on the light side. I put the flame to the bowl and took a small hit...I always find the
initial come-on of DMT a bit intimidating, the body-high is not warm or pleasant per se. It's not an
uncomfortable or intimidating high, but it is a very strong buzz. About 5 seconds after setting the bong
down I began to feel the familiar electrical tingling throughout my body and the accompanying
auditory humming/whirring sound. I felt the contrast and intensity of my visual field enhance only
slightly...a perfect threshold dose. I like to start from this place as it makes all subsequent hits much
smoother and pleasant. There have been many times I've smoked very quickly and aggressively only to
find that the increasing intensity of the buzz feels like 'pressure' on my head. There is an odd feature of
DMT where I feel like the energy in my mind has to be accepted...I have to do a form of meditation to
allow the energy to 'spread' through my mind rather than try to control or fight it. The few times I've
been afraid of it and attempted to push it off, I've found myself ultimately overwhelmed by the
experience and left with a slight headache which of course distracts from my ability to enjoy the beauty
it induces. I've found taking a small hit to start makes it easier for me to confront the most
'uncomfortable' (truly an exaggeration) part of the come-on.
0:30 After holding in the hit for what I believe to be the optimal length as I'm experiencing no further
changes, I slowly exhale the smoke and prepare to take my next hit. My roommate is now acting silly
and goading/teasing me with the you're gonna get high! psuedo-taunting he's prone to. I'm not sure
what the proper 'etiquette' is for psychedelic experiences, particularly DMT...but I generally prefer to
treat it with respect and calm. Nonetheless, his good humor does not disturb me and I smirk while
preparing to take my next hit. I don't want to hold him up on what is actually his journey to the store.

0:35 I take the 2nd hit in a succession of 3 small, combined inhalations and within 5-10 seconds many
things happen very quickly.
0:40 Before I have a chance to put the bong down, things begin changing rapidly. By the time I put
the bong down I realize I have already overshot my mark. The humming in my ears gets louder and
more present. This always alarms me. I don't know why visual hallucinations of the most powerful
variety do not intimidate me, yet a little humming sound does. Perhaps it is because I seek the visual
experience and am accustomed to visual hallucinations from psychedelics but not auditory ones. At
any rate, I went into this experience expecting that hum and having battled my apprehension towards it
many times, I resolve not to be afraid.
0:45 As soon as I have put the humming out of mind, I am quickly accosted by the growing
intensity of the physical buzz. The thought enters my mind that I really didn't smoke that much, did
I? I have a longstanding theory that the amount of DMT smoked is less important than the mindset
and attitude you bring to the experience. I have smoked very minor amounts of DMT and been able to
'milk' that high to dazzling intensities...and I have smoked larger bowls that I was nervous about and
because I 'rejected' the come-up, I was left with a conflicted and watered-down experience that I
couldn't fully absorb. At this point, I accept that this is happening, that I have overshot my 'casual
walk' dosage and will simply embrace whatever comes to me. I am still harboring attachment to my
roommate and minor guilt that I will delay him a couple of minutes re-orienting myself, but this too I
dismiss in order to savor what is happening to me. I feel the pressure and energy of the DMT
'hovering', 'plateauing' at an intense but not yet overwhelming degree and I consciously think Okay,
and am met with a response. A thought whose personality differs from my own normal narrator.
Okay? Alright then! and I was gone.
0:??? - Without realizing it, I gave my consent for an experience I could not have comprehended or
prepared for. There is no 'burst', no 'pop', no immediate awareness of the transition, but I swiftly and
gradually become aware of the fact that I am perceiving a world of complete color. Extremely bright,
almost neon colors are swarming around me and rushing through me. These are not deep or royal
tones...but lime greens, bright oranges, bright yellows, cerulean blues and stop sign reds. There is no
contrast material. I had always envisioned the DMT hyperspace as being a liquid and amorphous, everchanging structure of colored wires set on a black backdrop...like a Windows screensaver of sorts. This
is far from what I'm experiencing. There is an endless cascade of strange shapes and slivers being
arranged and overlapped into a mosaic or smorgasbord of pure data. It has not yet occurred to me that I
have broken through, and I am still conscious of my body.
At this point I make note of physical changes occurring in my body. First off, I feel a strange kind of
dissociation to my body...I do not feel solid but instead hollow, I am aware of the tubes of my sinuses
and digestion, my organs are distinct to me, not my muscles or my 'meat'. I feel my liquids becoming
runny. This always happens with tryptamines, particularly DMT...I feel like my nose is going to run, I
even feel like I'm going to have some sort of liquid bowel movement. Neither occurs, but the
experience is minorly alarming. In directing my thoughts to my body, particularly my bowels, I receive
an eruption of laughter from my mental visitor. He/she/they (as it is impossible for me to determine if
I'm being addressed by one or many) are laughing at me. Not mocking me...there is no hostility, but a
sheer hilarity and total amusement. There is a thought like yes! Shit happens! Who gives a shit!
(there is distinct amusement at this non-verbalized pun) Hahahaha! You're a human! An upright
monkey! This is what you are! You are not a 'who', you are a 'what', and this is what is. Who cares!
None of this is communicated in words, it is simply empathically understood by the nature of this
creature's reaction to me. Their amusement is contagious and I quickly embrace it and am embraced in

kind. I abandon my attachment to going out with my roommate...to worrying about my body. Clearly
it's preferable to maintain control of my body in most situations, but I am immediately aware that if I
wish to see more, I cannot do so as a human, and I must abandon my body and its pursuits. So I do.
The message continues to unfold, though I am overwhelmed by the sensation of imagery being
perceived by every one of my senses. There is a logos being communicated to be, but I am not focused
on it, as I am still caught up in the perception of my utterly synesthesiac experiences. I cannot
distinguish whether I am seeing or feeling these colors. I feel like I am being given a two dimensional
massage from the inside of my head. I feel energies rushing through my neck and my temples, around
my mind, and I see the colors and shapes responsible for these sensations. There is no distinction here
between seeing and feeling. It all simply is. Behind the roaring intensity of these sensations I see these
shapes being arranged into images that represent the argument or perspective being communicated to
me, and the theme of that message is: indifference. Not a cold or totalitarian indifference, but a true
and amused detachment. All of the topics that have dominated my thinking the past few years become
petty. Gender equality? What is gender? This is a category that does not matter. Politics? These are
illusory systems that appear to provide control in a world of structured chaos. I am accustomed to
complex thoughts under the influence of oral psychedelics. I will have intense and deep realizations
about the nature of intellectual topics. I can connect several dots to form new solutions and ideas.
DMT is showing me something else. The thoughts presented to me are simple. They are simple in that
they are demonstrating the futility and unnecessity of thinking in this way here. Thoughts and
revelations that would be highly inspiring and valuable to me under the influence of LSD or any
phenethylamine are utterly useless here. I lack even the language to understand the concepts being
shared with me, and if I am to learn this language, I will need to abandon all that I think I know about
communication and concept. If there is any theme to what I am shown, this is it.
There is no real chronology to many of the 'events' listed above. There is so much raw data
communicated in so many forms so quickly that it is highly challenging to delineate it all effectively.
Just as I do not have a conscious awareness of when I entered this 'place', I return to earth without any
effort or awareness of the change or any time having elapsed. I can guess that I was 'gone' for less than
30 seconds, and I feel entirely capable of coherent thought. I realize I have felt entirely capable of
coherent thought the entire time.
2:00(?) - My roommate is telling me that he will leave me be as it's clear the nature of my trip is not
what I intended. I tell him that I still want to join him, that I'm ready for the journey. That was a lot.
Yeah, that was a lot. We leave the apartment, and while waiting for the elevator I begin to
communicate to him what the past 2 minutes have entailed for me...it is only as the elevator opens that I
realize I have broken through. Reading this account, it might seem very obvious that that is what took
place, yet the sensory overload was so smooth and rapid that I am only able to reconstruct a timeline of
what took place upon my exit.
3:00 We are now outside, walking to the convenience store. The street we're walking on seems to be
literally bending up to meet me. There is a scene in Inception where Ellen Paige 'constructs' reality and
forms buildings and bridges out of concrete with her mind...this image stands out as relevant. As this is
happening, my roommate and I are having a completely cogent discussion about our barbers and recent
haircuts...which places we prefer and why...that I was overcharged today but that in Taiwan the
barbershop service is exquisite. I am not sure whether to be awestruck by the fact that all of this has
transpired in under 5 minutes and we are now back to normal earth activities and thinking...or lament
the fact that I didn't give myself more time to hold onto and construct the events that took place. I feel
this conversation is distracting me and making the events a 'past' rather than integrating the message

into my present. I try to inject my post-trip revelations and experience into the conversation as I try to
mentally reconstruct my DMT sandcastle before all of the sand slips through my fingers. What you are
reading now is the result of that labor.
5:00 By the time we reach the convenience store, I am left with some intense color enhancement, but
am largely myself. I buy a coke and a pack of filtered cigars. There is a jovial energy in the air. The
brand I like is always out of stock, and this occasion is no different, but the cashier behind the counter
(who knows us very well and knows my struggle with acquiring these cigars) actually leaves his post to
look in the back for an un-inventoried pack. He finds one and brings it to me. We communicate our
gratitude, laugh and leave. My roommate and I chat on our way back to the apartment. He laments his
struggles with nicotine addiction and how DMT demonstrates what poison cigarettes are. I consider
the irony of having just bought cigars. I don't want to contribute to his struggle to kick the habit...but
we both prefer to smoke something and drink a Coke while we play LoL...the activity clearly on the
agenda upon our return. We ascend to the apartment, and the night goes on as any other. Only it is not
like any other.