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Last March/April my roommate and I decided to shroom. We went up into the hills (the Berkeley Hills, if you know the area, near the Laboratory) and ate our eighths, and began tripping balls. It was the first time shrooming for both of us.
An hour or so after dosing, we were headed back down the hill (it was a few days after the war had started, and I was having problems with being completely isolated, not knowing if anything important was happening; I also had a "preminition" (sp?) that something terrible had happened, so it was time to go). Before reaching the last decline to civilization (which is paved) my roommate had stopped me. Under the dirt, not flat down into the earth, but on an incline, there was a large, metal door. I fell to my knees and began uncovering it. It had that non-slip pattern in the metal, definite edges, hollow sounding; it was a fucking door.
We then heard a loud noise (not like a jet overhead, but along those lines) and thought SF had been bombed. We ran our asses back home.
Fastforward to last night. We happened to be in the same area for a concert with a few other friends and decided that we ought to go look at the door. I had a suspicion that the door wouldn't be there, but I was and am convinced that the door WAS there when we found it. But, when we got there, no door. Nada. Just dirt and concrete.
The sound we heard was verified by othere people. The door, well I have no idea what to make of that. I've tripped one other time (on my first airplane flight, a month ago; I don't suggest that to anyone), and I would describe both trips as a living-hell. But I've yet (discounting the door incident) to be confronted with a hallucination that appeared and felt REAL. I was also under the assumption that whenever you see a hallucination, you can tell its simply a figment of your mind (which has been the case). So, why was the door only there when we were tripping? Anyone have any ideas? |
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