CASEBOOK OF GEEZA VERMIES
Having seen what I had seen in my trip last night I knew I had to act fast! Immediately when I came to back in my bed at the dingy hostel I filled my Pipe with a mixture of herbs and ‘shrooms, lit him up and offered him to the four directions. East first, then South, West and North, asking for their advice. I then offered the smoke to the Sky Father above, the Earth Mother beneath my bare feet, the Sun, and Grandmother Moon.
Once I had called upon all of the Spirits of Nature, I smoked the Pipe empty, wet my finger and cleaned him out. And then I waited, breathing rhythmically, first from just my throat, then from my chest cavity, and finally bringing my diaphragm into action. Four breaths of each individually before closing my eyes and breathing from all three areas of my respiratory tract at once, clearly and deeply.
Time distorts during altered states of consciousness so I cannot say how long it was before my vision was upon me. When it came though, it was direct and to the point – if you know how to read these things. It showed me quite clearly the action I had to take.
Tall buildings, some very old and others of much more recent construction were suddenly enveloped by a huge swirling cloud of colours - grey, black and white with here and there flecks of purple and also a metallic green. It was twisting and contorting all the while, never staying still for a minute. After only a short while though the whole cloud lifted high up into the Sky, at which point I saw all of the buildings were gone, eaten away by a trillion acidic white blobs. Where their remains still hissed and smoked there now rose a plaza, large and ornate, a couple of acres across, in the centre of which stood a tall, proud pillar.
The brooding cloud swooped low again and formed the shape of a Bird, her beak pointing towards the financial district of the City. Then a hole opened up in the main portion of her body where her stomach would normally be positioned. This hole then filled, bit by bit, and the cloud descended still further, coming to rest on a solitary figure in the square. As it did so, it exploded into thousands of Pigeons and the figure was lost in a storm of feathers - grey, black, white, purple and the same metallic green that I’d seen in the cloud from which they’d been born.
Knowing now what was to be done I tore several pieces of my hair out and burnt them as a thank you to the Spirits. I then wrapped up Old Smokey in his velvet cloth and sprang into action.
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