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We're Not In Kansas ... No More...Toto...
Damn'sod..!!! Sat Jan 09, 2010 12:44 am
We're Not In Kansas ... No More...Toto...
The first thing was a sense of dropping away, but to say downward would be too simple.
There were all sorts of frequency modulations and crescendoed stacatto pops as the trip descended. This sound data was quiveringly involved with these visual architectonic dream waters that were beginning to emerge, dripping and slipping amongst themselves, and my being became overwhelmed by vacuous, gravity-like suction experiences which impelled me further in.
Around me I felt a crowding in of beings as if the Celtic Faerie land of Fay had become momentarily co-present with where I was.
I sensed them, but did not experience these creatures.
The sucking experience took over for a while then, driving the morphological acrobatics of spacelove that lay before me.
There was something about it that makes me think of a voluptuous alien seductress with big, fat lips pulling me to her body in the weirdest feeling embrace ever.
It felt like I was being smeared sensually and lustfully around the space in some sort of vacuum-tube funhouse.
At this point (maybe a minute into the experience) I started picking up something like the Escher painting of all those sets of stairs with figures descending by all manners of gravity, only its surfaces were emerald isles of what I can only describe as fractal Medusa liquid, serpentine and sexy.
There was a thought that I was in a room full of aliens and they were playing with me, but that somehow they had conspired to make me this way - the alien carney music bar on the planet Tatooine in the Star Wars trilogy seems relevant.
Then I had the thought (which just seems to pop up and not really pertain):
"What have I done! How did I get this way?"
Meaning, how did I come to enter something so foreign that my petty human ontological premises and hopeful body of knowledge seem like a wrench trying to adjust a camel?
At that point I lost any touch with my body and was thrust forward into complete and utter amazement.
The world became so crammed full of intricacy to the nth that it seemed every nook and cranny in my spacetime was exfoliating little crystalline dancing worlds, bellowing ecstasy.
It moved like snakes move: all rippling of muscle and sun glinting scales.
I cannot emphasize enough the catapulting, titanic motions of this iridescent zigzag bottlerocket, this nuanced, whittling circus of form, this Brobignagian roller coaster safari across the jeweled plains of wonderland, straining the limits of the knowable.
Were Stuck In David Ickes Ayathusia Experience...!!!
The first thing was a sense of dropping away, but to say downward would be too simple.
There were all sorts of frequency modulations and crescendoed stacatto pops as the trip descended. This sound data was quiveringly involved with these visual architectonic dream waters that were beginning to emerge, dripping and slipping amongst themselves, and my being became overwhelmed by vacuous, gravity-like suction experiences which impelled me further in.
Around me I felt a crowding in of beings as if the Celtic Faerie land of Fay had become momentarily co-present with where I was.
I sensed them, but did not experience these creatures.
The sucking experience took over for a while then, driving the morphological acrobatics of spacelove that lay before me.
There was something about it that makes me think of a voluptuous alien seductress with big, fat lips pulling me to her body in the weirdest feeling embrace ever.
It felt like I was being smeared sensually and lustfully around the space in some sort of vacuum-tube funhouse.
At this point (maybe a minute into the experience) I started picking up something like the Escher painting of all those sets of stairs with figures descending by all manners of gravity, only its surfaces were emerald isles of what I can only describe as fractal Medusa liquid, serpentine and sexy.
There was a thought that I was in a room full of aliens and they were playing with me, but that somehow they had conspired to make me this way - the alien carney music bar on the planet Tatooine in the Star Wars trilogy seems relevant.
Then I had the thought (which just seems to pop up and not really pertain):
"What have I done! How did I get this way?"
Meaning, how did I come to enter something so foreign that my petty human ontological premises and hopeful body of knowledge seem like a wrench trying to adjust a camel?
At that point I lost any touch with my body and was thrust forward into complete and utter amazement.
The world became so crammed full of intricacy to the nth that it seemed every nook and cranny in my spacetime was exfoliating little crystalline dancing worlds, bellowing ecstasy.
It moved like snakes move: all rippling of muscle and sun glinting scales.
I cannot emphasize enough the catapulting, titanic motions of this iridescent zigzag bottlerocket, this nuanced, whittling circus of form, this Brobignagian roller coaster safari across the jeweled plains of wonderland, straining the limits of the knowable.
Were Stuck In David Ickes Ayathusia Experience...!!!
Damn'sod..!!!- Admin
- Posts : 669
Join date : 2009-01-22
Location : Knutbush City Limits...!!! -
LilyAllen- Posts : 265
Join date : 2010-01-01
Re: We're Not In Kansas ... No More...Toto...
Damn'sod..!!! Sat Jan 09, 2010 1:30 am
In The Ghetto...
the DMT was rooting for me as well.
After a deep, deep rip, i shut my eyes, focused on the mission, placed my goggles over my eyes, and darted out the door.
The immediate weightlessness was startling for some reason this time.
Within seconds of shooting out the plane, all hell broke loose.
The trip began.
Scared and in a state of paralysis, i exhaled the smoke and witnessed my life beginning to flash before my eyes in a kaleidoscope of remembered events ordered in a way that seemed incredibly perfect.
All i could think about was my friends, family, and my personal journey through life.
My eyes were shut and the roar of the wind was instantaneously replaced by a shearing high pitched crackle. I knew i was falling, i knew i was going to die, i knew i'd miss my life but i did not feel as though i had failed.
I suddenly realised that the life that just flashed before my eyes was a good one and began to accept that this is the perfect way to die, in harmony with my own mind.
All of the hectic closed-eye-visulatisations of memories and swirling patterns made me feel as though dying was merely the next step in enlightenment which after all, was the inevitable goal of my experiment.
Feeling at ease with the thought of death, i felt myself relaxing into the flight and let gravity take over.
No longer was i in form and now i was just tumbling through the sky.
Visions from my most recent acid trip began to play before my eyes as i fell further through the sky with my eyes still closed.
The message i took back from that trip was a subjective reality, that which is produced personally at all times, began to flourish about in my hectic thoughts.
I opened my eyes because something compelled me to. I was in the clouds.
I readjusted into proper skydiving technique.
All i could see was the faint light of the sun glowing my surroundings and i began to wonder if i was in heaven. I wondered if this was the product of my mind producing a subjective reality while in a DMT trip or if i was really dead.
Emotions at this stage in time seemed incredibly intense.
The clouds parted and gave way to the view of the massive earth quickly accelerating towards me.
Suddenly no longer was this a mission to enlighten myself, it was back to staying alive.
My guess is the brief DMT trip had began to die down and gave me a chance to save myself so i could take back my story to the rest of the world.
Subjective reality philosophy is very interesting to me.
In this case, i began to feel as though i had created the earth that was rushing towards me and i had also created the parachute on my back.
I could either discover the purpose of the hard, brown land or i could discover the purpose of my parachute. Immediately, all energy that could possibly be imagined was summoned.
I felt as though i was gaining power and spirits were helping me.
There were beings on the ground tossing light at me.
My only response to this vivid hallucination was to embody it and use the energy to my advantage.
As i caught the light, my energy seemed to revive and my arms went out to the side as they began to glow a brilliant white.
I felt as though i was god, or a god, or at least an angel of some sort and that all of me was glowing white.
I felt that if i hit the ground while possessing this much energy, it would be a complete waste and i would let all of the spirits of the world down and the world would gradually die away.
I suddenly felt as though pulling that cord was the only thing that mattered in the world at the time.
I visualized the president in his office dealing with Iraq difficulties, i visulaized a mother giving birth to a baby i even thought of what id perhaps be doing if this had never occurred.
None of it mattered any more.
I had to pull that cord.
With an amazing feeling of lightlessness, i shut my eyes once more and forced my arms up to the cord and released all of my energy.
Instantaneously, the weightlessness was replaced with ultimate heaviness and an incredible pain in my torso. Once the chute was deployed, a sigh of relief and a release of endless amounts of tension took place.
I survived.
I accomplished.
I defeated.
I conquered.
I fuckin did it!
I survived the ultimate test of concsiousness and obtained the ultimate level of enlightenment.
No more living life half-heartedly.
No more arguments.
No more anger.
No more stress.
Life from then on is to be happy, spiritual and amazing.
From then on, i use my new godlike perspective to help me live through life as though i had created it all.
This viewpoint will allow me to connect with anything or anyone i wish and will allow me to teach others of these ways.
Hovering a thousand feet over the land, i realized how close a call this was and let out a scream of joy that seemed to echo around for miles and minutes.
I must have still been feeling the residual effects.
As i landed back on the ground, i bent over while beginning to cry and kissed the sandy ground.
If i truly am to believe that i created all, than i am to believe that the dirt sticking around my lips at this moment is something i created.
I licked my lips and smiled as though i had just finished a meal i prepared for myself.
the DMT was rooting for me as well.
After a deep, deep rip, i shut my eyes, focused on the mission, placed my goggles over my eyes, and darted out the door.
The immediate weightlessness was startling for some reason this time.
Within seconds of shooting out the plane, all hell broke loose.
The trip began.
Scared and in a state of paralysis, i exhaled the smoke and witnessed my life beginning to flash before my eyes in a kaleidoscope of remembered events ordered in a way that seemed incredibly perfect.
All i could think about was my friends, family, and my personal journey through life.
My eyes were shut and the roar of the wind was instantaneously replaced by a shearing high pitched crackle. I knew i was falling, i knew i was going to die, i knew i'd miss my life but i did not feel as though i had failed.
I suddenly realised that the life that just flashed before my eyes was a good one and began to accept that this is the perfect way to die, in harmony with my own mind.
All of the hectic closed-eye-visulatisations of memories and swirling patterns made me feel as though dying was merely the next step in enlightenment which after all, was the inevitable goal of my experiment.
Feeling at ease with the thought of death, i felt myself relaxing into the flight and let gravity take over.
No longer was i in form and now i was just tumbling through the sky.
Visions from my most recent acid trip began to play before my eyes as i fell further through the sky with my eyes still closed.
The message i took back from that trip was a subjective reality, that which is produced personally at all times, began to flourish about in my hectic thoughts.
I opened my eyes because something compelled me to. I was in the clouds.
I readjusted into proper skydiving technique.
All i could see was the faint light of the sun glowing my surroundings and i began to wonder if i was in heaven. I wondered if this was the product of my mind producing a subjective reality while in a DMT trip or if i was really dead.
Emotions at this stage in time seemed incredibly intense.
The clouds parted and gave way to the view of the massive earth quickly accelerating towards me.
Suddenly no longer was this a mission to enlighten myself, it was back to staying alive.
My guess is the brief DMT trip had began to die down and gave me a chance to save myself so i could take back my story to the rest of the world.
Subjective reality philosophy is very interesting to me.
In this case, i began to feel as though i had created the earth that was rushing towards me and i had also created the parachute on my back.
I could either discover the purpose of the hard, brown land or i could discover the purpose of my parachute. Immediately, all energy that could possibly be imagined was summoned.
I felt as though i was gaining power and spirits were helping me.
There were beings on the ground tossing light at me.
My only response to this vivid hallucination was to embody it and use the energy to my advantage.
As i caught the light, my energy seemed to revive and my arms went out to the side as they began to glow a brilliant white.
I felt as though i was god, or a god, or at least an angel of some sort and that all of me was glowing white.
I felt that if i hit the ground while possessing this much energy, it would be a complete waste and i would let all of the spirits of the world down and the world would gradually die away.
I suddenly felt as though pulling that cord was the only thing that mattered in the world at the time.
I visualized the president in his office dealing with Iraq difficulties, i visulaized a mother giving birth to a baby i even thought of what id perhaps be doing if this had never occurred.
None of it mattered any more.
I had to pull that cord.
With an amazing feeling of lightlessness, i shut my eyes once more and forced my arms up to the cord and released all of my energy.
Instantaneously, the weightlessness was replaced with ultimate heaviness and an incredible pain in my torso. Once the chute was deployed, a sigh of relief and a release of endless amounts of tension took place.
I survived.
I accomplished.
I defeated.
I conquered.
I fuckin did it!
I survived the ultimate test of concsiousness and obtained the ultimate level of enlightenment.
No more living life half-heartedly.
No more arguments.
No more anger.
No more stress.
Life from then on is to be happy, spiritual and amazing.
From then on, i use my new godlike perspective to help me live through life as though i had created it all.
This viewpoint will allow me to connect with anything or anyone i wish and will allow me to teach others of these ways.
Hovering a thousand feet over the land, i realized how close a call this was and let out a scream of joy that seemed to echo around for miles and minutes.
I must have still been feeling the residual effects.
As i landed back on the ground, i bent over while beginning to cry and kissed the sandy ground.
If i truly am to believe that i created all, than i am to believe that the dirt sticking around my lips at this moment is something i created.
I licked my lips and smiled as though i had just finished a meal i prepared for myself.
Damn'sod..!!!- Admin
- Posts : 669
Join date : 2009-01-22
Location : Knutbush City Limits...!!! -
Re: We're Not In Kansas ... No More...Toto...
LilyAllen Sun Jan 10, 2010 8:01 pm
Best Elvis song ever...
LilyAllen- Posts : 265
Join date : 2010-01-01
Re: We're Not In Kansas ... No More...Toto...
Damn'sod..!!! Sat Jan 23, 2010 7:34 pm
Auld Shep...
Gelert...
Gelert is the name of a legendary dog associated with the village of Beddgelert (whose name means 'Gelert's Grave') in Gwynedd, northwest Wales.
The story of Gelert is a variation on the well-worn "Faithful Hound" folk-tale motif, which lives on as an urban legend.
Here, the dog is alleged to have belonged to Llywelyn the Great, Prince of Gwynedd, and to have been a gift from King John of England.
In this legend, Llywelyn returns from hunting to find his baby's cradle overturned, the baby missing and the dog with blood around its mouth.
Imagining that it has savaged the child, Llywelyn draws his sword and kills the dog, which lets out a final dying yelp.
He then hears the cries of the baby and finds it unharmed under the cradle, along with a dead wolf which had attacked the child and been killed by Gelert.
Llywelyn is then overcome with remorse and he buries the dog with great ceremony, yet he still could hear the dying yelp.
After that day Llywelyn never smiled again.
Gelert...
Gelert is the name of a legendary dog associated with the village of Beddgelert (whose name means 'Gelert's Grave') in Gwynedd, northwest Wales.
The story of Gelert is a variation on the well-worn "Faithful Hound" folk-tale motif, which lives on as an urban legend.
Here, the dog is alleged to have belonged to Llywelyn the Great, Prince of Gwynedd, and to have been a gift from King John of England.
In this legend, Llywelyn returns from hunting to find his baby's cradle overturned, the baby missing and the dog with blood around its mouth.
Imagining that it has savaged the child, Llywelyn draws his sword and kills the dog, which lets out a final dying yelp.
He then hears the cries of the baby and finds it unharmed under the cradle, along with a dead wolf which had attacked the child and been killed by Gelert.
Llywelyn is then overcome with remorse and he buries the dog with great ceremony, yet he still could hear the dying yelp.
After that day Llywelyn never smiled again.
Damn'sod..!!!- Admin
- Posts : 669
Join date : 2009-01-22
Location : Knutbush City Limits...!!! -
Re: We're Not In Kansas ... No More...Toto...
Superfly Sat Jan 23, 2010 7:46 pm
Damn'sod..!!! wrote:Auld Shep...
Gelert...
Gelert is the name of a legendary dog associated with the village of Beddgelert (whose name means 'Gelert's Grave') in Gwynedd, northwest Wales.
The story of Gelert is a variation on the well-worn "Faithful Hound" folk-tale motif, which lives on as an urban legend.
Here, the dog is alleged to have belonged to Llywelyn the Great, Prince of Gwynedd, and to have been a gift from King John of England.
In this legend, Llywelyn returns from hunting to find his baby's cradle overturned, the baby missing and the dog with blood around its mouth.
Imagining that it has savaged the child, Llywelyn draws his sword and kills the dog, which lets out a final dying yelp.
He then hears the cries of the baby and finds it unharmed under the cradle, along with a dead wolf which had attacked the child and been killed by Gelert.
Llywelyn is then overcome with remorse and he buries the dog with great ceremony, yet he still could hear the dying yelp.
After that day Llywelyn never smiled again.
That's really sad dude.
Superfly- Posts : 275
Join date : 2009-05-22
Age : 52
Location : 21 Jump Street -
Re: We're Not In Kansas ... No More...Toto...
Damn'sod..!!! Sat Jan 23, 2010 8:14 pm
The Lambtom Worm...
The Lambton Worm is a legend from the North East of England in the UK.
The story is one of the area's most famous pieces of folklore,
The legend
The story revolves around John Lambton, an heir of the Lambton Estate, County Durham, and his battle with a giant worm (dragon) which had been terrorising the local villages.
Origin of the worm
The story states that the young John Lambton was a rebellious character who missed church one Sunday to go fishing in the River Wear.
In many versions of the story, while walking to the river, or setting up his equipment, John receives warnings from an old man that no good can come from missing church.
John Lambton does not catch anything until the time the church service finishes, at which point he fishes out a small eel- or lamprey-like creature with nine holes on each side of its salamander-like head.
Depending on the version of the story the worm is no bigger than a thumb, or about 3 feet long.
In some renditions it has legs, while in others it is said to more closely resemble a snake.
At this point the old man returns, John declares that he has caught the devil and decides to dispose of his catch by discarding it down a nearby well.
The old man then issues further warnings about the nature of the beast
The worm's wrath
Eventually the worm grows extremely large and the well becomes poisonous.
The villagers start to notice livestock going missing and discover that the fully-grown worm has emerged from the well and coiled itself around a local hill.
The worm terrorises the nearby villages, eating sheep, preventing cows from producing milk and snatching away small children.
It then heads towards Lambton Castle where the Lord (John Lambton's aged father) manages to sedate the creature in what becomes a daily ritual of offering the worm milk of nine good cows, twenty gallons, or a filled wooden/stone trough.
A number of brave villagers try to kill the beast but are quickly dispatched.
When a chunk is cut off the worm it simply reattaches the missing piece.
Visiting knights also try to assault the beast but none survive.
When annoyed the worm would uproot trees by coiling its tail around them.
It then created devastation by waving around the uprooted trees like a club.
The vanquishing of the worm
After seven years John Lambton returns from the crusade to find his father's estates almost destitute because of the worm.
John decides to fight it but first seeks the guidance of a wise woman or witch near Durham.
The witch hardens John's resolve to kill the beast by explaining his responsibility for the worm.
She tells him to cover his armour in spearheads and fight the worm in the River Wear, where it now spends its days wrapped around a great rock.
The witch also tells John that after killing the worm he must then kill the first living thing he sees, or else his family will be cursed for nine generations and will not die in their beds.
John prepares his armour according to the witch's instructions and arranges with his father that when he has killed the worm he will sound his hunting horn three times.
On this signal his father is to release his favourite hound so that it will run to John, who can then kill the dog and thus avoid the curse.
The Lambton curse
Unfortunately, John's father is so excited that the beast is dead that he forgets to release the hound and rushes out to congratulate his son.
John cannot bear to kill his father and so, after they meet, the hound is released and dutifully dispatched.
But it is too late and nine generations of Lambtons are cursed so they shall not die peacefully in their beds.
Next Chapter, Angus The Hartlepool Monkey...!!!
The Lambton Worm is a legend from the North East of England in the UK.
The story is one of the area's most famous pieces of folklore,
The legend
The story revolves around John Lambton, an heir of the Lambton Estate, County Durham, and his battle with a giant worm (dragon) which had been terrorising the local villages.
Origin of the worm
The story states that the young John Lambton was a rebellious character who missed church one Sunday to go fishing in the River Wear.
In many versions of the story, while walking to the river, or setting up his equipment, John receives warnings from an old man that no good can come from missing church.
John Lambton does not catch anything until the time the church service finishes, at which point he fishes out a small eel- or lamprey-like creature with nine holes on each side of its salamander-like head.
Depending on the version of the story the worm is no bigger than a thumb, or about 3 feet long.
In some renditions it has legs, while in others it is said to more closely resemble a snake.
At this point the old man returns, John declares that he has caught the devil and decides to dispose of his catch by discarding it down a nearby well.
The old man then issues further warnings about the nature of the beast
The worm's wrath
Eventually the worm grows extremely large and the well becomes poisonous.
The villagers start to notice livestock going missing and discover that the fully-grown worm has emerged from the well and coiled itself around a local hill.
The worm terrorises the nearby villages, eating sheep, preventing cows from producing milk and snatching away small children.
It then heads towards Lambton Castle where the Lord (John Lambton's aged father) manages to sedate the creature in what becomes a daily ritual of offering the worm milk of nine good cows, twenty gallons, or a filled wooden/stone trough.
A number of brave villagers try to kill the beast but are quickly dispatched.
When a chunk is cut off the worm it simply reattaches the missing piece.
Visiting knights also try to assault the beast but none survive.
When annoyed the worm would uproot trees by coiling its tail around them.
It then created devastation by waving around the uprooted trees like a club.
The vanquishing of the worm
After seven years John Lambton returns from the crusade to find his father's estates almost destitute because of the worm.
John decides to fight it but first seeks the guidance of a wise woman or witch near Durham.
The witch hardens John's resolve to kill the beast by explaining his responsibility for the worm.
She tells him to cover his armour in spearheads and fight the worm in the River Wear, where it now spends its days wrapped around a great rock.
The witch also tells John that after killing the worm he must then kill the first living thing he sees, or else his family will be cursed for nine generations and will not die in their beds.
John prepares his armour according to the witch's instructions and arranges with his father that when he has killed the worm he will sound his hunting horn three times.
On this signal his father is to release his favourite hound so that it will run to John, who can then kill the dog and thus avoid the curse.
The Lambton curse
Unfortunately, John's father is so excited that the beast is dead that he forgets to release the hound and rushes out to congratulate his son.
John cannot bear to kill his father and so, after they meet, the hound is released and dutifully dispatched.
But it is too late and nine generations of Lambtons are cursed so they shall not die peacefully in their beds.
Next Chapter, Angus The Hartlepool Monkey...!!!
Damn'sod..!!!- Admin
- Posts : 669
Join date : 2009-01-22
Location : Knutbush City Limits...!!! -
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