The 7 Minutes That Broke Reality:
My Salvia Divinorum Trip Report
How I Ended Up Holding a Bong Full of Purple Nightmare Fuel
I was 26, had done mushrooms a dozen times, LSD maybe twenty, and was chasing the dragon of “What’s the strongest legal thing left?” YouTube in 2017 was still full of those legendary 2008–2010 salvia videos: kids turning into couches, girls convinced they were orange juice, teenage boys screaming about zippers. I laughed, called it fake, and secretly bookmarked a vendor.
I ordered 1 gram of “20x standardized extract” because the reviews said 40x would “delete you from existence.” That should have been my first warning.
Set & Setting (or the lack of it)
- Night, 11:47 p.m.
- My bedroom, lights off except a dim red bulb
- Sitting cross-legged on the carpet, back against the bed
- One friend (call him Mike) as a sober tripsitter, holding my phone on video
- Bong loaded with ~0.05 g of dark green-purple 20x extract on a thin layer of weed
- Silence—no music. I wanted the “pure” experience.
I told Mike, “If I start crawling toward the window, tackle me.”
0–15 seconds: The Pull
One massive hit, held for 25 seconds. The taste was burning plastic mixed with minty soap. I exhaled and immediately gravity tripled. Not stoner heaviness—the entire room tilted 45 degrees and I was sliding down an invisible ramp.
I croaked, “It’s starting.”
15–90 seconds: Unzipping
Then the world unzipped. A literal zipper sound ran from my left ear across my vision. The wall peeled open like wallpaper. Behind it was a factory conveyor belt made of giant playing cards—each card a frozen frame of my life.
I was no longer sitting on carpet. I was the carpet. Then the bedframe. Then a stack of books on the shelf. Identity became a costume someone kept ripping off and slapping onto the next object.
90 seconds–4 minutes: The Wheel and the Shepherdess
The conveyor belt sped up. Every version of me spun past: 5-year-old me eating dirt, 14-year-old me crying over a girl, 80-year-old me on a porch I’ll never reach. They were cardboard cutouts, and a giant female presence in flowing green robes with too many arms was sorting them like a librarian.
She noticed me noticing her. Mild annoyance, like I’d interrupted someone doing taxes. She flicked one cardboard “me,” it folded into origami, and got filed into a drawer labeled “This one thinks he’s special.”
I tried to scream—no mouth. Tried to move—no body. Only the observer remained, and even that felt rented.
4–6 minutes: The Collapse
The factory folded like a pop-up book slamming shut. The zipper ran backward—zzzziipPPPP—and I slammed back into my body on the carpet, gasping. Arms and legs felt borrowed. The phone timer read 6 minutes 11 seconds from exhale.
I laughed and cried simultaneously. Not emotional release—just the only two sounds my body still knew how to make.
6–20 minutes: Aftershocks
I kept touching my face to confirm it existed. Walls breathed a little—child’s play compared to what just happened. Water tasted like the concept of water.
I looked at Mike and said, “I was a bookshelf.”
He played the video back. On it I sit perfectly still for five minutes, eyes open like a mannequin, then suddenly jerk and whisper “Don’t let them file me” before freezing again.
The Next Morning and the Years After
I woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck made of existential dread. For weeks, ordinary objects (a chair, a lamp) gave me a half-second pang of “Wait… was I that thing yesterday?”
Salvia didn’t give glowing insights or universal love. It showed me the “self” is a paper-thin stage prop that can vanish faster than a blink. That’s not always comforting knowledge.
Comparisons People Always Ask For
- Mushrooms: 6-hour conversation with a wise friend
- LSD: 12-hour art museum that follows you home
- DMT: 15-minute alien abduction
- Salvia: 6-minute execution of everything you thought was real
Would I do it again? Absolutely not.
Do I regret it? No. It’s like touching a hot stove that also teaches you the stove is an illusion.
Final Warning
If you’re considering salvia because “it only lasts five minutes,” understand those five minutes do not run on the same clock as the rest of your life. Have a sitter. Stay seated. Or just watch the old YouTube videos instead.
Some doors, once opened, don’t need to be opened twice.