I had my first DMT trip in 2015, in Houston, TX. It felt life-changing. I really wanted to share the experience with my closest friends, but it was very difficult to articulate it; more than that, I felt that if I did put in words without appropriate care, a part of the experience would slip away from me, replaced by my imprecise wording. So, for the next few weeks, I said nothing about the trip, but worked quietly on what I called “my DMT notes.”
This eventually became an illustrated essay I titled Soviet Man in the Inner Cosmos. It is still one of the purest creative acts I’ve ever engaged in: I put all my attention and care into it, and the most I hoped to get in return was that a handful of friends would read it to the end and not think I was crazy.
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