An Account of the Magic Mushroom
As I got up, I could not walk properly, if at all. At one stage I tried moving to the bedroom but had to crawl back. Gravity was unstable and a great effort of will, if I can use that traditional concept now, was necessary in order to complete the most mundane of tasks. I wanted some paper from my desk two metres away, but realised it was too much for me. The cup of tea my girlfriend had made for me I wanted, but I didn't dare to pick it up as I knew I was not strong enough to do so. I ended up crawling to it on a low table and managed to sip a little. I then looked at my mother's beautiful painting of our house in Cornwall and became exceedingly sentimental considering her great love for me. I then eventually managed to arrive at the other side of the room and looked at my father's abstract watercolour of a harbour town. It became three dimensional and oscillated in and out of the wall like a giant speaker! It was incredibly colourful and fantastic. I noticed the little figures engaged in their daily lives there and fell in love with art. Moreover, my sense and appreciation of art and beauty increased a lot. More so for visual art than music, which was playing on television at one point.
I tried speaking, but was annoyingly always sidetracked in my thought and thus speech. I tried to explain the lack of power over my mind and body by using the analogy of the cartoon character He-Man and his alter ego Adam, which seemed perfectly intelligible to me at the time. Just as Adam gains strength over his environment by transforming into He-Man, so I needed to make a similar transformation so to gain that power. However, this logic did not translate well through my speech, and my girlfriend just considered me mad, mumbling on about the Masters of the Universe et al.
At a later point I started writing notes, quite odd as I look at them now, in order to not forget my trip. I noted down that art and logic were essentially the same thing as they put 'things together, under a scheme (composition in art, taxonomy in biology)'. This seemed somewhat profound at the time, but now seems a little shallow. However, I do believe this idea could be investigated further, and therefore I realise that the fungus liberated my thoughts enabling seeds to be sown for development when one's mind is less free but more focussed. The term 'Liberty Cap' is hence quite fitting for such mushrooms.
Despite common recounts of psilocybin journeys, I experienced no colour trails, no auras, but also no nausea (due to fungus digestion). I did not laugh as much as I had read others did. The only negative effects for me were the initial disappointment and brief anxiety, and a temporary moment where I looked at my hands which looked old, grey, decrepit with the fingernails sinking into my fingers. This, however, was rather brief; thereafter everything appeared healthy, fun, friendly, artistic and loveable.
The liberation this experience afforded me has led me to pursue much activity in the form of art creation, psychology, neurology, theology and further philosophy. It is obvious that language and culture encages the potential of our thought, though it hones it. The practical mode of thought inhibits the theoretical; the Liberty Cap liberates the latter by inhibiting the former.
The End Or jump to page.
Liked this story? Why not read Peter Bergstrom's other great shrooming escapade An Episode of the Magic Mushroom.
Peter runs his own graphic design company HobGob Graphics. If you want truly shroomtastic graphics that are out of this world visit the site now.