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at around 3.30am, a few minutes after I woke up, I was ...bent... on hitting the pipe, the pipe I had bought very recently, had gotten me excited. so after some preparation, setting a cigaretter on the middle of my room, on the ground, what is essentially a forgotten turkish traditional decorative glass, for putting a bunch of cigarettes in for guests to freely enjoy, my little altar was complete, now that I had put my now full pipe on the cigaretter as well. but I had had made one seemingly small but essentially a catalyst for the screw-up of enjoying the changa the gods have bestowed upon me as a gift, the word WASTED would ring in my head soon.

I hit the pipe, but the smoke was coming too readily, the carburetor need not have been used, because air was flowing through the bowl itself already, because of the fucking mesh I had gotten with the hopes that it would make it a much comfier smoke, with no changa dust spilling, but essentially all it managed to do was making the bundle of my material allow air through itself... and making the smoke very harsh on top of that. I hit it once, noticed it, kept trying and after a big big second hit, was coughing left and right, the smoke never entering my lungs, and finally having to stop with a sense of ruin ringing through my head.

But even the small bit that had hit me had hit me up strongly, the wind shaking the leafs outside my house was... overwhelming, to say the least, which had an acid like quality to it, strongly effecting my disgruntled headspace, but it wasn't an unpleasant experience, yet still overwhelming and the feeling of failure itself, was actually unpleasant. I consistently try and make a point that low dose dmt can be really irritating, it's a combination of a headache mixed with... irresolute confusion.

For almost quite an hour I suffered these unpleasant effects entering my psyche, but not long after that, I was free. Set on not trying again very soon, now that I was left with a sense of calm I decided to eat, and of what I ate involved some dairy products which is not a good idea before or after an attempt on dmt, but I had no intention to hit it again, having cleaned up and put everything in places the feds won't find, and so on, now I was left to my own devices.

Until. Magically I just had decided to hit it again, and set on it as I was decided I would do it right at sunrise. Now in total 2 hours had passed and I was much more comfortable having already done it, knowing what it is, the familiarity had helped me so, be in tune with the delirious reality more than just a little bit, again I had prepared but this time I did not sit on the floor before my altar but on pic related, in front of my desk. Another thing I did differently, was, for not losing changa dust to the bowl's hole, was a small bed with mint.

All packed and ready to go, I waited for the exact moment of sunrise to hit the pipe, and just like that, with the click of a lighter, I was on my way.
2 big hits were enough to clear the pipe, after which the scene erupted. As soon as I had said out loud, "that will be enough", I put the pipe on the desk, and quickly made my way to the bed, sitting.
A calm but still overwhelming vision was hitting me just I shut my eyes, trying to be in tune with the flow and keep myself calm I was giving inculcations to myself, and the words I was thinking and saying, quickly changed into other things. I was seeing something fairly indescribable, but I will attempt to do so anyway. As if on a brown page of nothingness there were very well drawn curved lines, all concave, like a dirty and light gold were all encompassing each other inwardly and moving. I peered keenly into this eye of the storm and with a little bit of concentration had caught a figure of an unusual djinnic face. A face not in contentment, to say the least, I tried to understand what I was seeing. This open-mouthed perhaps fearful and somewhat confused face was looking right at me, and were I to lose concentration for a split second just trying to take in the beauty of it all I would lose sight of it, but would quickly concentrate and connect with that face again. It would glow, stabilize, glow, stabilize glow and stabilize again in this purple shine to camouflaging with the rest of the tableau again and again, as if giving me the hint to listen in and see the hidden around me, all of the time. Then I caught a sense of being watched. Things did not turn sour nor had I expected it to, but I would welcome anything because all this time, all I had seen from dmt was beauty, even the darker things. I can smell and taste the dmt right now, as I write this. After this engagement of what felt like a rhetoric of rhetoric, like an enunciation of an enunciation, everything slowly "peered off". I realize these are vague descriptions but effing the ineffable is troublesome.

I was truly amazed by what I had experienced, the shine still staying with me, I was hit with the most positive energetic liveliness, and was literally jumping up and down from the excitement of the beautiful things I had experienced. Love was all. After that, I had some coffee, talked to my little brother about how great a time I had and just relaxed and rested in comfort and all the good feelings. One thing I remember that I had said as soon as I came out of it was, "I rock that", with a voice full of intense spirit. And the last beautiful gift was the shape of the ash, looking like a white flower on top of black nothingness.