Did you know that if you have leftover drugs at the end of your vacation, a good option is to throw them away? This dude on Reddit didn't!
This guy took an LSD-addled flight across the Pacific because he figured the best way to smuggle drugs onto a plane is by eating all of them. Fortunately, he lived to tell the story, which seems inevitable now because, as we will learn, all of life's possibilities are happening at once. This isn't just a story about a thrifty burnout, it's about a man whose whole value system was altered after getting some much needed Lasik on his third eye.
I was flying home across the Pacific and didn't want to smuggle drugs through the airport. I also didn't have the heart to just throw away a couple of really strong tabs I had gotten on my vacation. So I decided to take them all before going through the airport security, figuring it would kick in pretty nicely in time for the flight. It did.
At first I was just lying with my face down seeing pretty things inside my eyelids. Women, music, wonderful colors. It was a blast. Then I felt as something was ontop of me, so I opened my eyes. And there was a very old lady on top of me, apparently I had sort of dozed off and not noticed that the lady on the right of me had to pee so she had to climb over me and sort of got stuck over me. That's when things started going south.
Anyone who has done psychedelics knows exactly what this means.
I realized a commercial airliner is an extremely irresponsible place to do recreational drugs---what if there's a turmoil in the plane? As a healthy male, you need to be able to able to support women and children on the plane. But there I was sitting, just tripping cause I couldn't be arsed to sit through a boring 12h flight.
Forget helping other people, isn't it enough that tripping balls while a plane is crashing would be scary as hell?
So I had what you call "sonder", a moment of clarity where I realized that I wasn't the center of the universe, that everyone is just as important as me, everyone has loved ones, stories of lost love etc, they're the main character in their own movies.
That's when shit went quantum. All these stories begun sinking in to me. It was as if I was beginning to experience their stories simultaneously. And not just their stories, I began seeing the story of everyone I had ever met in my entire life flash before my eyes. And in this quantum experience, there was a voice that said something about Karma. The voice told me that the plane will crash and that I will be reborn again until the quota of my Karma is at -+0. So, for every ill deed I have done, I would have an ill deed committed to me. For every cheap T-shirt I purchased in my previous life, I would live the life of the poor Asian sweatshop worker sewing that T-shirt. For every hooker I fucked, I would live the life of a fucked hooker.
If everyone who ever had sex with a hooker became a hooker in another life, the world would become a hooker-only planet. And then we would finally experience world peace.
And it was as if thousands of versions of me was experiencing this moment. It is hard to explain, but in every situation where something could happen, both things happened and I experienced both timelines simultaneously. As I opened my eyes, I noticed how smoke was coming out of the top cabins in the plane. Luggage was falling out. I experienced the airplane crashing a thousand times, and I died and accepted death a thousand times, apologizing to the Karma God for my sins. There was a flash of the brightest white light imagineable and the thousand realities in which I died began fading off. Remaining was only one reality in which the crash didn't happen. Where I was still sitting in the plane. I could still see the smoke coming out of the plane and as a air stewardess came walking by I asked her if everything was alright. She said "Yes, is everything alright with YOU?"
And I thought about if I was alright for a moment and realized that yes, I am infact all right, I am alive, but I needed to take a horrible horrible shit.
Ah, the moral of the story presents itself. With the mind's greatest awareness comes the colon's greatest shit.
It was like a demon inside of me who was causing me to hallucinate all this Karma bullshit. So I made my way to the airplane toilet where I shat the nastiest diarrhea shit I ever shat, took several hours. I knew it was either me or the shit---either it would destroy me or I would destroy it. I finally got the shit out and flushed it down those airplane toilets that just suck the shit out into nothingness.
Then I felt alot better and got back to my seat and watched Ice Age 3 for the rest of the trip. At times, I still feel like in reality, I died on that plane. I am merely just experiencing a timeline in which that didn't happen---an anomaly, that shouldn't have happened. The timeline which death and Karma forgot.
So, would he do it again?
All in all, a great, powerful experience, but I feel really reckless and irresponsible for attempting this on a commercial airliner around other people.
I think we've all learned a lesson here. If you're ever going to take way too many drugs, wait until you are rich enough to do them on a private plane equipped with a really dope toilet.