I was slightly apprehensive. LSD was supposed to be a powerful drug.
"Chew it for a few minutes," Rama whispered.
It was as bitter as he said it would be. I soon noticed the deep blue sky turn to bands of crimson and yellow and orange. I noticed the lights of Palm Springs twinkle like stars thousands of feet below. I noticed the mammoth peaks of Mount San Jacinto gradually fading away. So stark and surreal was the scene before me, that I had to remind myself that this was how the desert appeared at twilight ordinarily.
"How do you feel, kid?"
"Fine, Rama," I reported, enjoying the attention. "Nothing yet." About fifteen minutes later he gave me another stamp when I found myself noticing that I was noticing that I was noticing that I was
that i was
that
i
was
that hey
hey
hey
(hey)
((hey))
((((hey))))
((((((((hey))))))))
-* h e y * ------------ (it)
((it))
((((it))))
((((((((it))))))))
-* i t * ----------- (works)
((works))
((((works))))
((((((((works))))))))
-* w o r k s *-
I gazed at the lights of Palm Springs. I did not blink. I did not breathe. I lost awareness that I was on a mountain. I lost awareness that I was tripping. I lost awareness that I existed. The points of light grew fuzzy and bright.
Time touched the mountain world. I blinked. I inhaled. I turned from the light. "I am alive in this desert," I thought. Through the powerful, rose-colored lens of the initial rush, the thought magnified and blossomed into a stunning realization. I blinked again and exhaled.
I turned and saw Rama and the disciples. I knew that I was *seeing* on a different level than they were. This made me happy. A large, silly grin took hold of my face. The joy gradually receded, but the facial muscles held. I knew the grin was out of sync. I laughed.
I turned to some rocks. I grew serious. "The rocks," I realized, "are part of the Earth. The Earth is sacred." I did not realize, as I continued to astonish myself with my own profundity, that I had finally entered a world similar to the ones described in the Castaneda books.