02: Tripping the Light Fantastic

If you are serious about your religion,
you must learn how to use psychochemicals.
Drugs are the religion of the twenty-first century.
Pursuing the religious life today without using psychedelic drugs
is like studying astronomy with the naked eye
because that’s how they did it in the first century A.D.

Timothy Leary

Theo sighed, sitting back and once more removing his small sample and examining it. “As much as I dislike the idea, I’m eager to determine whether this is legitimate.” He sliced a thinner sliver than Tom suggested, assuming—as a complete novice—his tolerance was even lower than Tom suspected. He barely tolerated aspirin. He returned the rest to its box and tucked it away in his drawer. After all, the only point was adjusting to the psychedelic effects, as Tom indicated it wouldn’t affect his dreams until it wore off a day or two later.

Hoping to rescue his PhD program after his crisis at Johns Hopkins, he’d opted to live with his aunt, Allison Cooper—affectionately called Alli—who lived near Westervale College with her daughter Wendy. Somehow, he doubted she’d approve of him tripping in her house with her daughter present, her age the least of her concerns.

After relating how he’d come to Westervale, Alli seemed satisfied, promising to call his family and convey the good news for him. Now, alone in his room, he slipped the substance in his mouth and carefully chewed, pausing to reconsider the misguided action once more. It was tough and tasted of stale rawhide with a slight bitter note—nature’s way of alerting you of potential poisons.

Sitting alone in the deafening silence of the darkened room, it took a while—as Theo wondered whether it would do anything at all. Maybe he hadn’t taken enough to be effective. He then noticed bright iridescent colors hiding along his peripheral vision, so he couldn’t view them directly. Soon, the vibrant colors bled into his normal vision, revealing shades and tones he’d never imagined before.

The next thing he knew, he was standing outside, completely naked with a rampant erection arching toward the heavens. He was surrounded by swirling, twinkling multi-colored tendrils, twisting and spinning around him, unsure how he’d gotten there, nor why he bore a full erection. It didn’t seem to result from sexual stimulation. Instead of the previous inky blackness of night, now the entire landscape was awash in vibrant colors despite the obscured quarter moon, the silence replaced with a cacophony of non-human sounds.

Assuming the erection was a symptom Tom neglected to mention, he ignored it, reminding himself to check again within four hours, as he’d grown accustomed to his smallest appendage.

He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here. It was like he’d blacked out, but he distinctly remembered his experiences and fascinating details. He recalled things he’d never considered before, and revelations of things he thought he knew, yet...

Somehow, he had no conscious memory of time or how he got here. And all those astonishing ideas he’d promised to remember, blew away like smoke and fairy dust, gone with a slight breeze. He tried recalling what he’d so wanted to recollect, or what had so fascinated him. But while the experiences were fresh in him mind, the details of his thoughts—aside from the experiences themselves—were not.

He also recalled why he was naked, as he’d felt the energy surrounding him was disturbed by his garments, so he’d left them behind, where he hadn’t a clue. Glancing up, he discovered much of the background noise he’d noted were the stars in the heavens popping and crackling like dried popcorn in a microwave. He stood transfixed, observing them. Fixating on a particular star cluster—the Seven Sisters—he felt himself rising upwards as the heavens expanded around him. It filled his vision, the yard he stood on no longer visible.

Looking steadily ahead, observing the rapidly moving stars growing ever nearer, he felt at peace. A part of the cosmos, one with the universe, feeling millions of unidentified life forms pulsing around him. Their crackling called to him, speaking his name in millions of disparate tongues, over millions of lightyears. Growing brighter as he perceived a vast array of stars, he felt himself connected with the intellectual force—the soul—guiding the universe, suddenly understanding its intent. He was, essentially, communing directly with God.

Unable to communicate verbally, he was filled with a tremendous awe and utter humility: a minor, insignificant figure among tens of trillions. What he’d discovered earlier, and forgot, he could still experience, even though the drug had mostly worn off. If these were after affects, then he was probably correct, he’d likely blacked out because he wasn’t prepared for the full sensory overload, yet this lessor, toned down version seemed ideal for him.

Then he was in another darkened room, and Alicia, a teen-aged neighbor, was facing a strapping young man. Both lacked essential details, illuminated by a bluish tint. Like him, both were naked. A tall, thin girl with raven black hair and a clear, flawless complexion, Alicia nevertheless stood out, as her shorter boyfriend bore a darker countenance and a brooding demeanor with heavy brows. While cute, his ineffective, pretentious bad-guy vibe reflected a harsh contrast over them both. Even now, his eyebrows seemed to be revealing, conveying more than what his eyes conveyed, even now. Realizing Tom was correct, he was living out Alicia’s dream—hence the indistinct images. Seeing the young man’s genitals, he guessed they were purely Alicia’s imagination, as their size was well outside the norm for most teens. As they embraced, Theo turned, heading away, when he encountered Wendy, Alli’s daughter, watching.

Normally a cute, lively teen, Wendy now studied his face—ignoring his attire, or lack thereof—expressing a quizzical, skeptical expression, which transformed to an unsure questioning one, as the corners of her lips turned up as she tilted her head. Embarrassed at being caught in flagrante by his niece in her pajamas, roughly the same age as Alicia, Theo found himself back outside—shocked awake by the unexpected encounter.

“Damn, Tom mentioned visiting others’ dreams, but never mentioned pulling others in too. I’d better watch that, lest I be accused of indecency. I have no clue how Wendy will interpret it, but hopefully she’ll chalk it up to a random dream about her uncle. Speaking of indecency, I best return and locate my missing clothes, before someone reports me.” However, his erection apparently had a mind of its own, bobbing as he walked.

He discovered one shoe in his front yard, a sock in Alli’s garden and the other shoe in the next yard over, demonstrating he’d apparently been meandering aimlessly. Luckily, his fixation of continually polishing his shoes made them relatively easy to spot, as they reflected the vibrant colors surrounding him.

Reentering the house, he located the missing sock hanging from the front door’s inner doorknob. Despite floating to the den’s easy chair, he finally sat, clutching the armrests. Taking his time, he monitored his breathing and checked his pulse, yet the sparkling multi-colored tendrils followed him everywhere, never dissipating.

He checked the time, observing he’d been under for several hours, rather than the few minutes he thought—highlighting Tom’s warning that his perception of time wasn’t reliable while under. It also meant he’d likely be traipsing the neighborhood for much longer too, further complicating the risks.

Once he’d calmed, his thinking clearing—though the hallucinations hadn’t—Theo tried to experiment further, hopefully in someone’s slightly less sexual dream. After scanning about, an interesting experience of its own, Theo found himself in Alli’s dream.

She stood precariously atop their washing machine, as the laundry room was flooding with several sharks swimming menacingly around the machine she was on. Unlike her normal dowdy demure demeanor, she appeared much younger, with dark hair like her daughter’s, and skin as smooth and flawless as Alicia’s. Ignoring the dangers she faced, she stopped, turned and stared. Apparently, unlike Tom, he wasn’t merely observing someone else’s dream. He was actually visiting them, appearing in Alli’s like he had in Wendy’s. Shocked again, he found himself back in his body.

Due to his extensive work in conscious dreaming, he set the agenda for the dream and quickly returned to sleep, never fully awakening. When he reappeared in her dream, he was once more invisible as Alli prepared to leap from the washer to the dryer when she paused, once more turning. “You can’t fool me,” she announced, her voice clear over the sound of rushing water. “I can tell you’re still here. Your surroundings give you away, so you may as well reveal yourself.”

Theo sighed as the water swiftly drained away at his urging, sucking the thrashing sharks down the tiny laundry-room drain, as he materialized before her on the wet tile floor.

“There you are!” she declared, utterly nonplused at his appearing nude in her dream. “I don’t know why you’re so quick to run away, though I’m not overly fond of the sharks either.” She paused, glancing down while staring at him and grinning triumphantly. He recognized the realistic colors and patterns of his clothing, compared to her blurry-blue appearance. Waking himself again, he reappeared with a negligible delay, with Alli now fully fleshed out in one of her favorite outfits, a dark paisley dress. Recognizing the difference, she glanced down, smoothing and studying her attire.

Though Theo reimaged her in her dream, his recollections were vague. Yet, seeing herself in the familiar outfit, colors washed over the dress and herself, revealing a rich black, orange and white pattern that seemed nearly as vibrant as his tendrils, adding the missing color and various inconsistencies of the material, like uneven seams or stains. Her skin, rather than a flat flesh color, was now more nuanced, darkening in the recessed areas, brightening in the exposed, flatter expanses, as well as displaying a few freckles and birthmarks, but baring the same enticing smile, as she playfully bit her lip at his response. Whatever her apparent dream age, she knew she was cute.

“Very nice,” she said, glancing around. “Can you do anything about the room? My dream version seems a tab ... drab.”

Unsure how, without reawakening, Theo imagined her bedroom where she still slept. Again, everything lacked color, though realistically detailed, but rapidly erupted in color, as she observed the room. Theo realized, presented with a realistic representation of a familiar location, she unconsciously added the missing colors. There was still a lot to learn, as dreams seemed to have completely different rules while he was in them, but at least he didn’t have to continually wake each time. But that was the premise behind conscious dreaming, though he’d never seen it set so quickly before.

“Very nice. You should attend all my dreams, as this is much nicer than my normal ones.” She flashed a playful, teasing grin. “Now, there’s one item missing, seeing as it’s still my dream.” Both Theo’s and Alli’s clothes vanished, revealing his still rampant erection, and a sexy body he’d never envisioned beneath her everyday attire. Contrary to the detail in everything else, her breasts didn’t sag in the least, and were noticeably smaller, with perkier nipples, which seemed to defy gravity, calling him to caress them.