Notes on a Weekend with Terence McKenna
A First Encounter with DMT
Page 4

Terence's elves wave goodbye.
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In retrospect, traveling to DMT hyperspace was the most bizarre experience I can recall.

Oddly enough, the trip eased my fears about death, though that feeling has ebbed upon oral reflection. Ten minutes after smoking I felt no residual effects save a memory that I've been trying to rationally process ever since. A doctor friend of mine, upon hearing my tale, asked me what I thought was really going on. The question stumped me for a minute or so because the experience is so hard to concretize. I sense that this is a door to the dream world, an immediately link to the deepest part of sleep. I also sense that Jung's "collective unconscious" is a place, and that we can go there by smoking DMT.

Surely there are other more natural modes of dimensional travel, which mystics and shamans have been using for millennia. But, and this is so Western of me, why suffer through the effects of near-toxic brews or years of meditation and self-abnegation when you can take the express shuttle and arrive within seconds? As McKenna says, "With DMT, meditation becomes as advertised." Is this spirituality's magic bullet? Maybe so, but it's definitely not for the squeamish. There's a hyperdimensional reality out there, and if you don't believe it, well, smoke DMT.

— Ian Winn

The purpose of DeMenT is to share experiences concerning DMT hyperspace and other altered states of consciousness. What is this place and who are these beings? On my first trip I went to the pyramids — others report having been sent to the supercontinent, Pangea. Still others report, "reality gnomes, working reality with crystal levers" or, sharing a common thread with my trip, a troupe of many-armed Hindu dancers. My hope is to have this place be a crossroads where we can all share our alien dreams.

Got a trip to share? Email DeMenT.

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