Alright, sure, for you Paul.
A buddy of mine picked up what were probably the most potent shrooms of all time. I ate an eighth of them and was shrooming pretty hard. Very hard, actually. Another buddy hadn't ate any so he put together a cocktail of broken up shrooms and trees and started packing my old acrylic bong. I hit it many times, and from this point I have to rely on other people's stories.
I stood up and threw the bong, spinning through the air, towards the table, dousing a bunch of dudes that were playing cards with bongwater. This is going on in my basement which is pretty dingy. It's not furnished, and the floor is concrete and pretty dusty. The corners are basically full of dirt. I jumped (more of throwing one's self) over this piece of excercise equipment landing in this filthy pile of dirt in the corner. In my mind, I was basically rising to the forefront of humanity, becoming the mind expanding consciousness more quickly than any other living thing on the planet. Time was slowing down, and I was prepared for it to come to a halt, for eternity, because the places I was reaching to were the final place that any mind could possibly reach. A few seconds later (seemed like about 5 minutes later) my mind orgasmed. That is hard to explain. Well back in the fake world, I think people tried helping me up and this is probably around the time I started getting loud. I dunno how long this went on, but I spent alot of time screaming and being pinned down to the ground by five people. Some dudes girlfriend thought that the foolproof cure would be to pour milk down my throat.

My friends are bigger morons then I thought for going through with that. I think I was gagged with a wet towel for awhile, too. Obviously, the restraints only made me more agitated. I hear I was doing pretty well fighting against five people holding me down. Nice.
Well anyway, eventually someone put on some classical music on a radio and I was very much soothed. I used to play cello in an orchestra, classical music was my favorite music to listen to while hallucinating. So I was sat down in a chair and was pretty much calm. I was talking about myself as if I had died. It was basically my subconsious going through it's death/rebirth routine, because it believed the rest of my brain was dead. The same idiot girl had a new bright idea to bring me outside and put me in my car to muffle my screaming, but at this point, I was no longer screaming.

So I was lifted out of the chair and led outside and two good buddies accompanied me. I felt like I was walking along a fixed path although I was walking on my own. The haziness of the steetlights at night and the linear nature of my fixed path led my mind to believe that this was some kind of a dream world. Kind of like a lucid dream, kind of like a heaven. I was following the dudes to my car through the street and I was feeling this spiral of creation moving though my body. It was very relaxing and when it reached my abdomen, I pissed myself a bit. Man, that felt good. So I walked over to my car and this dude had the backdoor of my Pontiac open and was trying to get me to go in. I thought he wanted to have gay sex with me, so I was like, hell no, man. I walked down this block a block continuing to feel like I was on a fixed path, and at one point, I was released from the path. It was as if God had said, "You may now go free about the world." My eyes widened, and at the absolute top of my lungs (at probably 2am) I stared screaming "I CAN DO WHAT I FUCKIN WANT" and started running through the streets, feeling like everything was my lucid dream to play with. At this point, my mind was pretty clear, if someone would have told me, "Dude, you're not in a dream world man, this is reality and you're waking people up and they're looking at you." I would have stopped and been like, "Oh shit, man... my bad!" But I never heard this. So I was kicking shit over, screaming the name of the girl I loved and broke up with me (Megan), punching my buddy in the shoulder full strength, punching car hoods, stripping off pieces of clothing, etc., etc. I found a nice empty insection by some factories and was throwing around tires. In this intersection, I found a van to pick on, took off a valve cap, ripped off the rear view mirror and crunched it up. My hands were soaked in blood.
All of this could have been avoided, very easily. However, I'm glad it wasn't. That moment was the one and only time in my life I felt completely free to do whatever it was I pleased, and I did whatever the fuck I wanted to do. It was glorious.