A stoney universe

A stoney universe: Part 1

The shaman presented Emanuel with a large wooden bowl. In it was a brew of Peruvian jungle tobacco, powdered cacao, and lime juice. The purpose of this was to expel evil energies from Emanuel's body. He was told to swish the liquid in his mouth for as long as he could. He could feel the concoction absorbing into his gums immediately. It didn't burn, but it certainly didn't feel natural.

He swallowed it, and the shaman promptly left the room. He came back a few seconds later with a 16 stringed guitar, and an oil lamp. He chanted a mantra, and began to play a some sort of foreign melody. Emanuel was completely immersed in the complexity of the overlapping frequencies, in addition to the simplicity of the shaman's hand movements. Then he vomited. He vomited for minutes, the more Emanuel's bowels emptied, the more content he felt. As the shaman ended his song, Emanuel's vomiting slowed down and eventually stopped. The shaman guided Emanuel into a small dark room, only heated by their breath. The shaman exited the room and locked the door, multiple times. This was somewhat intimidating, but an emotion as weak as intimidation hardly compares to emotions like desperation or sadness. Emanuel was in complete and utter darkness. He was bored. He didn't have the space to walk around, he didn't have the confidence to sing, and his phone was confiscated when he first entered the, "monastery"

After a couple of minutes, he began to observe his heartbeat. He could hear it very clearly since the door to the room was airtight. This made him think about how his body functions, how his brain controls the movement of his muscles and joints, how his heart regulates the distribution of oxygen throughout his body without any conscious effort. How if any of his body systems failed he could die in minutes. Accompanied by these ego damaging thoughts, the deafening silence elevated the sound of his breath to the point where his breath felt like a separate entity. The bizarre nature of the relationship between body and consciousness crossed his mind. He began to lose touch with reality. He lost control over his breath, then he had a conversation with it.

"Inhale, exhale, deep inhale, shallow yet harsh exhale," Emanuel understood. This very obvious exclamation processed in Emanuel's mind as his body scolding him for the oral expulsion it had just experienced. The conscious mind decides what to consume, so his body's anger was justified. He promptly apologized, through some sort of weird internal dialogue. It was similar in concept to morse code, but less solid, and more interpretive. He snapped back into reality and the first thing he thought was how absolutely idiotic that exchange was. Then he vomited again. Well, he thought he vomited, he felt the liquid shooting up his esophagus, out through is throat, and he heard a splatter on the floor. But what he saw perplexed him. Nothing. He felt the ground and it was completely dry. His throat didn't burn either, and it left no flavor in his mouth. His observation of the ground led to his observing the rest of the room. The walls seemed far away, more so like a hall than a small closet. But when he got closer he realized the walls were solid. They didn't change in appearance though. He still saw a hall in front of him, but his hand was stopped by what felt like an invisible barrier.

The obscurity of this sent Emanuel into a state of panic and confusion. Panicking in a small room with barely enough room to stand in obviously caused more panic. Adding on to that there's the fact that Emanuel weighs almost a ton. He scuttled around the room for a minute, hoping the shaman would hear the commotion and unlock the door. The plan was unsuccessful. Emanuel put his ear up to the door to see what he was doing. He heard nothing. Naturally, he assumed the shaman was probably meditating, or something else shamanic. He focused in closer, and he heard snoring. This fucker had locked him in here and fallen asleep. All emotions that Emanuel were experiencing in this room (in this case anger) were amplified, and anger was justified, so he was in a state far past anger. Like ecstatic hatred. The shaman was supposed to be guiding him, all he had done so far was put him in a closet and take a snooze. This must've been part of the experience, he paid two hundred bucks for this.

In a swift reconsideration of what had happened so far, he was able to dig himself out of the pit of anger and panic he had dug himself into. Emanuel is unique like that, observant of his emotions and demons to the point where he can psychologically block himself out of a stressful situation. And this was on every level stressful. He was stuck there in a small closet, alone, in darkness. The shaman was asleep, and he was hallucinating. Emanuel laid against the wall, self-loathing. Strangely enough, he felt very calm. An exhilarating calmness. He's naturally a logical person, observant of his surroundings. It was a natural instinct for Emanuel, he needed to avoid predators, but he felt no need to protect himself. He was lost in the beautiful simplicity of the environment. Not on a broad scale, just the environment in front of him, below him, and above him. He started to think about others. How many people in the world have never experienced that feeling. A departure from stress, from anger, from sadness. A person who lives a stressful, cluttered life generally spends their free time numbing themselves. With the internet, with alcohol, even with relationships. Where he was right now was perfect. Aware of the world around him, yet still greatly observant of his subconscious mind. A part of his consciousness that doesn't often comment on the outside world was in total control. All of this was very overwhelming for Emanuel. Culture perpetuates the idea that to take mind altering substances means you're a bad person, so that has never been something Emanuel had interest in or the courage to pursue. And the legistical nature of his mind kept him ground all of his life. He associated meditation and yoga with religion which he wasn't for. He had never experienced an altered state of consciousness before. Which he now saw as insanely bizarre. As, "the devil's advocate," for the concept, this made him question quite a bit. The taboo nature of the topic was bizarre to say the least. He laid there for a long while, drifting through his thoughts. This dissociative haze numbed Emanuels ability to inspect his environment. His body was oozing with euphoria, and his mind was immensely content so he felt no need to break away from whatever stoney realm of consciousness he was in.