A DMT TRIP

August 2022

My children are in another country on a weeklong trip; playing in the ocean, building fires. Where I am, time is unimportant. Time isn’t real. Our bodies are organic and decaying every day, but our personalities are still ours from childhood. Age isn’t changing how I see my place in this world and I am laying on the shiny wood floor of my boyfriend’s apartment, crying. He is listening and staring at me dutifully.

I was prepared for some deep reaction and it came for me howling. about heteronormative men and women on the floor of this apartment. The neighbors turn their television up, I take it personally.

Adrian and I acquired DMT from an elderly woman in San Fransisco.

I wasn’t going to do the DMT at all until I saw the packaging was bougie. Bougie packaging assures me: basic people can do this, so can I.

I can’t compare the physical experience to anything other than the time I was nineteen, ate too many weed brownies followed by a joint someone passed me with a warning: “Beware, it’s weird.”
I spent the next forty minutes laying in the snow, feeling like a balloon releasing air and watching the northern lights spell the word METALLICA across the starry Alberta sky.