my adventures with Salvia
My aunt went nuts this weekend. She had a nervous breakdown and since my mother is the most stable member of the family that wont immediately hang up on you, she is typically elected as the Champion of those-who-force-you-to-deal-with-their problems. I love my aunt, and I feel for her and her children, but I feel bad because my mom gets dumped on so much. I would like to help more, but it is not my place, and as much as I'd like to say 'relax, stay calm, we'll take care of you', I realize the best thing for everyone would be if someone said "You have children, you cannot crack this much." It was a difficult and awkward time this weekend, but you get through it how everyone does. Time continues without your help and the next thing you know it's tomorrow.
I tried not to spend so much time at home this weekend. I wanted my aunt to feel comfortable breaking down if she needed to and I felt that would be easier without some 23 year-old around pretending not to notice. So I spent a lot of time at Borders. I wouldn't say I'm an avid reader, no, but if I had to choose a title, I would call myself the proud conquerer of other worlds. I like to escape.
In books, I can read minds. I can predict events, I can witness dying stars and hear the last innocent crackle of a tree falling in the woods because I am there and not there to experience it. Books make sense, and when I read them... I make sense. I enter and know all. This is perhaps where my self-claimed "sense of adventure" comes from. I want to find new worlds and feel the way I do when I walk into a book. I'm typically a sure-why-not-er more often than I am a some-other-timer. I want to see what is out there for me to try, because essentially that's why I think I'm here.
Which leads us to today's adventure: Salvia divinorum. R-rating to follow. After I spend my morning driving my aunt around and taking her kids to wrestling practice, I built my own bong. It was endeared to me because it was my first attempt at such a task. Then I gently unfolded a blanket in the not-too-warm sunlight of my backyard in preparation. The sky was slashed with fine patches of angry-looking clouds. It was a pleasant day and my Asian neighbor was watering his plants. I knew because I could hear him. I packed the bowl and heard the door creak as I began to open my portal to another (legal) world.
I did not conquer this legal world. I was hoping for 10 minutes of fairyland jaunting and unicorn frolicking with lollipops and sunshine. I was expecting flashbacks, super powers, talking trees, or at the very least some groovy wavy lines in the grass. This is not what I got.
What I got... was sweaty. After a few hits, the bong exploded with mini-mushroom clouds of smoke. It looked like some smoking chalice from Harry Potter, only shaped like a home-made bong. Normally you would think, "Cool! Magical!"
I did not. I went ape-shit. I, probably paranoid that my neighbor would see me or hear me coughing, ran frantically to the other side of my backyard, roughly 20 feet away, with smoke erupting from my hand. I forget how to move, but I am moving somehow. Suddenly, I feel like I'm in a van and there are two ways I could go. I could drive down the length of my shadow, or I could drive down the road that was the grass next to my shadow. I also could sense Princess Peach was somehow involved. My midriff feels like it is being sunburnt only I'm wearing sweatpants and a sweater and it's chilly.
Somehow I think I managed to keep smoking, I think, and flipped out some more. I run around my backyard for a little while, before sprinting through my house panicking. I don't really know what I was running from, probably my plant-watering 80-year-old Asian neighbor. There is no "linear" where I am. I walk and I'm crooked and light doesn't come down and legs don't bend forward. Suddenly, for no reason whatsoever, I had a thought: I had to destroy my bong.
Why? Who knows. It felt like my poor Arrowhead water bottle was some demon artifact that had to be disposed of. I ripped it apart with my bare hands. I crush it and run outside to the front lawn to the dumpsters laughing like a madman because I was victorious. Who knows what I looked like to people if they were around, but at least they can't judge me for being wasteful. I recycled that bong.
I also drank the bong water. It all felt like a dream. When I thought I was coming to, I realized 10 more minutes had passed and I was still going around my house in circles. I checked three times to make sure that the water bottle was in the trash can to remind myself this actually happened. I stopped knowing what was real, and I was so, so, so fucking paranoid. And sweaty, don't forget about all of that sweat. I did not conquer that world. That world came in on a wave of smoke and smothered me in white caps. That world kicked my ass.
The only side-effect was my basic math skills stopped existing for a few hours. Seven times four? Huh? The X-plane is... the flat one? Needless to say, it made studying for the GRE that much more difficult. Weed doesn't even make me forget how to multiply, and that is the drug that is illegal. Salvia is legal and it made me flip.the.fuck.out. Weed just makes me want cheetos filled with sunshine and giggles and anime. Salvia warped emotion, time, and reality. It'll be a while before I try that again. I want to experience it when I'm in a happier mood and maybe during twilight in a field of grass. But, knowing me, I'll probably just try again tomorrow and wake up naked in the park in the rain. ....and I really don't have a problem with that.
Happy Holidays