Author Topic: Blessings!!  (Read 3266 times)

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Nganga Nobunoni

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« on: February 13, 2010, 03:07:47 AM »
It is earley in the day now and I go to lay in my bed. The light in the room is a candle set by a mirror, curtains drawn. Cossy quiltt and cussionsspread.

The fan is real noisy, no that must be a plane flyingh as well.

No something diffferent, higher pitched.

I lay very still, eyes closed and stare intently into the darkness.

The sound I come to realise is the air rushing through my nostrils, making a sound like it is being succed up a pipe. The other noise as if all sound is being wipped through a vortex tunnel.

The pitch grows slightly and then dissapeares, to be replaced by the inner clickings of a clock in a draw somewhere in the house.

A colidoscope of red yellows and blues explodes within my minds eye, tunneling outwards, with increasing speed.

I notice this time my guide to be Aya.

She showing me the way as if I had partook of the bitter tea.

Dots appear, tiny red flecks, gliding smoothly along an alotted path, spread out upwards, twisted.

Like two plug holes draining joined in the middle of eyes horizon, at bottoms, turning one left downwards and one right up.

Twist for twist from land to sky.

Golden flecks dance amongst the reds, spinning endlesssly on at a steady rate showing only a desire to continues upwards to create a sky, the lower as if being sucked from the ground.

This thing is colossas, as if made from water, gliding effortlesssly upwards, like spouting water in the air and allowing it to cover

the whole sky area of earth with fine moister air.

The white birds circle this column of pure thunderous energy.

I shifty my view and realise there is light around me, golden grey light that aluminates a wall to my left, utop of which appreares Wooden beams, slowly and more clearly, with each intent look I can make what seems like chinese lanterns flowing by lazily onward.

As if kites with a purpose.

Blues greens and yellows, but they are not chinese of picture design, but symiliar in that they seem to be drawn with a brush.

The whole ceiling covered in timber plankin, with large wet black iron oak roof beems between. The bricks are of redidsh clay, covered in baddly kempt whitewash, everything is seen to be kept in good repair, but old.

I turn and look and a rocking chair sits dimly lit from the candle.

I gaze at it's polished surface, hand warmed wood.

Well cared for.

Golden yellow brown grain within the surface extreemly fine.

The back of the chair is held up with two twists of wood, utop placed a cussion, white faun with slight rose flowers. All the wood is polished and cared for.

The chair sits motionless hanging there.

Vibrantely alive, but somehow out of reach, I turn and open my eyes for a better view and am struck by jagged triangles and strange black brown red forms hanging in the air, like some grotesque sideshow bat that has been all twisted.

A blink in my bottom right veiw window reveals me.

Myself standing and looking, smear paint upon my face and spear in hand.

Hair sluck back with clay

Slowley I crack a big smile and dissapear into the woods.

Vanish, gone.

I gaze around at a new room from a strange perpective, as if obstructed from standing, my body half merged in the floor

There hangs at each other wall red flowing curtains. They flow softly in an unfelt breeze. I can see the fineness of the cloth, there is a coat of arms on each side holding cups and swords, two horses and fifteen lancers, eight to the right and seven on the left. The coat of arms seems familiar with me, the two horses raised as if to great.

The curtains hang on lances as flags, with the pole running through hoops in the cloth, black lance pole against crimson red. Gold trim about the edge.

There stands a dark wood cabinet, flat front little design. Curved feet outwards. Atop this also stands an excuiisite vase, garnened in strings of pearls, purples, plumb blues, deep ocur reds. The porcelain white and aged, but clean and vibrant. The colours look fresh as if to pick the grapes and taste. I lean foreward and can see the blue grain cracks running through the glazed surface. The detail is astounding. The vase is painted with desighns of children playing at picnic and little birds sitting in a tree. One bird blue the other red, turned face to face with each other as if to kiss.

I peer at the corner of the mirror and a face appears as if from behind a curtain or veil of vines. It is me, my face marked for hunting, my hair smeared with mud, spear in hand. I looking intently into my left eye and promtly turn and walk away. Not a chance of a question, as I cryed inwardly "Wait!"

African tribesmen come and line up infront of me, begining to demand attention.

Big rounded shoulders and wastes from over indulgence living, they loom their way over.

Faces distorted and mangled, teeth hanging out and eyes ooziung puss

Politely say "go to the back of the line and I will speek with you later, they turn and leave.

Only linger more persistently if I gaze at them to long.

Otherwise people seem to flow past me at ease, smiling.

Children holding their dolies with frilled bonnets, lady holding one hand for care, usher along, one couple of many. Some come and sit and play infront of me, there faces goshtly and grotesque with decay, all seem to say one message "Be blessed" a beauty held also.

Some come and jear and sneer trying to scare me as such, they are asked firmly to go, with respect, they leave.

Upon the ceiling large flower like lantshades sit, motionless and serene, Cream white petals sit as if real, a dusk light shining around.

A very large cone now sits to my left and the ground is moving again, everything as if to be made of concrete, closer inspection ether, no substance to hold.

I glide on.

A large silver birch tree stands with branches stretched with tips just flowering, set against a red glowing sky, but Autum.

A seriel kind of saddnes all held together with love.

I hear whispers of "Blessings'"

We are all the same.

A young lady dances, twisting and twirling endlessly around and around. Spinning like a top, not to fast not to slow, all connected to this spinning rock we live on.

I follow the path and see grand cannion walls clearing off in the distance as if like a runweay for aeroplanes or space craft.

These great walls are arcqutectured with large angular sides, swooping in long grey silver tendlrels.

Sun flower,

it's head turned downwards sitting as if waiting, for water, sun maybe.

Yes yes we love the sun.

The children sing.

Laughter carries to the air and I view ladies passing, skirts pleated, reds, purples, blues of many tones. Hair done classy.

They laugh and lean over one another to confide.

To my left there hangs a picture of frame and children sitting and playing at picnic, the picture is alive, animated, the children seen to move, there is a vibrant chatter rattle in the air.

Black nineteen thirties sadan taxis drop off onto a rain soaked street, all umbrelas blowing open inside out in the wind, allowing for little protection from the rain.

Waiters in black suits carry silver platters of drinks and more, fruit a many, much more to the ladies exuburent delight.

Ladies carry cigarette holders slender and pearls.

To my right a band stand of musicians surrounded by beautiful ladies, play and serenade as if one to one, but the all of the party is felt like a ripple of vibrational movements in the room, in time to the band.

A disernable hick of hip there and a swoosh of head there, like seaweed of fire reds and cherry laid apon the ladies heads as if hair.

Sweet meats fo the tasting I care.

Photo graphs a many, babies, mums, dads, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, grandma and granddad and so on. All stretching foreward backwards, any given point on time line can be seen from both ways, past and future.

What is the most astounding is what I can see so clearly with eyes closed. I pear at a shaul cast over a stone on a hillside. The medow blows soflt green yellow, speckled with reds, the interacasies of the wove are boggling as if holding a special key only for my eye.

Whicker work baskets and boxes for to carry the flowers in.

Shoe shine stalls, boxes of black shiney shoes, paper posters on the walls, torn, hanging. Games, casinos and dames.

Broadway strip lites twinkle into veiw, "Room to let" on "Room to let off" An airoplane blasts by.

Like something out of a movie, black flashy by disign, clothes rain soaked and worn appearing as wet leather stretched over ample boosom. Everything black taccy wet.

Storm drains guzzle down street rain and whistle some more, papers all gurgling in the stew.

Tired I sit, I fear I have been walking.

A pushchair swings down from top left into view, wheel static as timeless. Black with white trim hood lace and a row of baby ducks, yellow orange red and green, the blue one crushed by teathing.

I can survey this chair from very minute distances and also veiw the grain in woods as I get closer.

To much detail for only one candle.

A white wall slides into veiw with intricate patterns etch in it's surface, one triangle up, two down, circle raised.

This does not move or change any shape, just hangs there serene within it's purpose.


Two walking sticks laid upon the ground, one the handle curved as an egg the other straight and gnarley' they become animated' lifting into the air and dancing' emulsing' the two sticks dance and become one stick'

The floor marbled in soft pinks and hue browns, hard and cold

There is a slight light reflected off of these objects completing the trans as to appear completely real.

Although dimly viewed at first the eye becomes acustomed to a certain way of looking.

A young girl comes at sits on my bed wearing a blue coat and neck scalf she greets me by waving. And mouthing hello. I cannot hear here reply. I say Oh bless a little girl. She smiles and does a little dance for me with twinkly blue safires for eyes.

A lady she is related too wearing a large bonnettte and bowl of fruit hairdo, bends over towards me almost droping the head gear. Then shockingly she said in a very sweet tone. It is very good to meet you. Bless. There is something important about these figures, these people to me, like something forgotten and vailed, only seen slightly. I know them as family, I now feel real good they are with me. I try to shake hands with the little girl, she also me, but we failed to make contact and her hand it melts away.

Leaving in replacement a warmthness and a smile.

We kind of hang there with nothing to say, balanced between saddness of the loss to come and reluctance at the acceptance.

All eventually turn and wander off, slowely with respect they gather their wears, push trolleys and such like and wander off over the hills.

Mountains loom to my right. Great jagged plinths scarring granite fingers stand against a purple yellow sky, a very dim glowed sun glimpsed cracking the coming of the new dawn.

I see tank like war machines with great steel tracks. Soldiers ontop and round about dressed inlong black capes, masks and goggles. Each hold a machine type pistol.

Soldiers run into a glade, flash a ganade goes off. Mutilated arms and legs, fingers. I view a skull half open with the left eyeball hanging.

The soldier is smiling.

Another soldier is lying close by screeming. I cannot hear his screems, but see him trying to pick up his own guts and put them back into the blown out cavity of what was once his stomach.

I see planes fly high, a blinding flash, seering heat. Great gouts of steam like dust plume higher and higher. The air is filled with snow, all is dark and dying.

About is suddenly alive with weeds hanging like seaweeds of oh so many varieties colours and texture, a veil dropped to see through. I am covered in exotic cloths, fine azure like wisps of fabrique one can see through, but also hide ones face from scrutiny and glare of sunlights prying eye.

Before me stands vast herb chalice for burning, but no light, I look around and see that I am in some kind of brick kiln chimney, above the top blocked off, it feels strange to stand in a box, the lights glowing red orange for the surrounding brick work

The air is still, a moisture on the air, in the distance a young hawk cries from erri, to for the parent to come by and bring forth it's breakfast so it may dine.

I gently lower myself upon the ground, sit cross legged and sigh.

Wow that was hard worked for, to sleep now,

shall try!

Hue light shines on a Wine glass full of red wine, one drop of wine splashing upon it's surface, creating one ripple eternity, the drip as if to hang in the air with antisipation of the language about to be exchanged.

One breath forever, all are the same.

Blessings' I wisper.

Sweet blessings'


Life is full of places we must come to,

a fulfilling of acceptances of pasts experiences,


and prayed for futures.

When acceptance of life's loves and pains are brought together as equals,

the seer is able to close the book and move onward remembering.

Rememberance is the gift of Gold Gilt given upon the Chalice of life. (drink deep dear friends)

For through our lives we give substance and honor to our deads.

Be blessed brothers and sisters.

Nsala Malekun


Nganga Nobunoni +

Copyright © 2010 Paul Brookshaw

Offline harveyplex

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Re: Blessings!!
« Reply #1 on: February 20, 2010, 02:38:12 AM »
Thanks Nombu -
i love to read about this type of experience ever since went on one too .
its beautiful writing.
thanks agaain brother.

Offline x

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Re: Blessings!!
« Reply #2 on: February 28, 2010, 05:16:13 PM »
Beautifully written, so vividly descriptive. Thank you muchly for putting it out there.

Nganga Nobunoni +

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Re: Blessings!!
« Reply #3 on: February 28, 2010, 05:55:06 PM »
You are welcome' this was my fourth full initiation and was achieved with 1800mg Ibogaine hcl and 16 grams of Iboga ingested within 6 hours' no purge because I was already pretty well psychologicaly cleansed from my 3rd full initiation dose some 5 months before'

I would say to get the best from the Iboga experience you need to take her twice 6 months apart if you come from addiction' with little doses under the tongue to ween yourself down from each experience'
Usualy first time out' Iboga alks have their work cut out rewiring the receptors away from addiction' hemisphere imbalance and rewire the psychi'

The second initiation aloows for a more immersive experience with lots of retrospection and visions'
After 9 full initiations I only require a small amount of Iboga alks to have a full blown experience (I took 15mg of codiene for back pain' it made me puke for 5 hours and scratch myself to pieces) so this si of how clear the Iboga alks can get you'


Nobu +

I have many other experiences of many different plants including Iboga written up and also a book I am working on' if folks are interested in reading these experiences I can post some more'

Have a lovely evening' thank you for all your comments and your workings'

Much light in self knowledge'

Nobu +

Offline Calaquendi

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Re: Blessings!!
« Reply #4 on: February 28, 2010, 10:38:39 PM »
Thank you Nobu!

Nice write-up man. I love to read reports like that, they inspire.

I see your fourth full on was a doozie - 1800mg ibogaine AND 16g wood!? Balls, man...that's what I'm talking about!  :o

I agree totally about the second initiation-strength dose being able to better put one into a visionary state. It certainly is practical and just makes sense...especially if the initiate is/was an addict. I can unfortunately speak to that, as my long struggle with opiates is the main reason I sought out eboka in the first place, only now it seems I have fallen head-over-heels in love. Who would have thought? Certainly not me. I was scared shitless to try iboga and the irony isn't lost on me that we have found such promise in a relationship with such a plant.

I am by nature, impatient. And this is one of the things I work at...the fact that all this is a 'process' finds me at times bumping up against a wall, one that I have somehow created myself. Interesting, and unnecessary...

Iboga has taught me much, not least of which is: the more I learn, the more I learn how much there is to learn. I am grateful.

We would love to hear more from your experiences, be they with our beloved Wood, or anything else for that matter. Please feel free to post whatever is in your heart or mind. Here is a thread about entheogens that hasn't seen much play: - can start a new one if you like. Totally up to you. This summer will see new changes to the site, to include a broader scope in the sub forums and maybe a face lift concerning the aesthetics - it's awful bright. Anyway, thanks for putting this out there bro - these are extremely intimate experiences and not everyone is keen on sharing them, so thank you!
« Last Edit: February 28, 2010, 10:40:36 PM by calaquendi »
" I am you and what I see is me..."

Offline harveyplex

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Re: Blessings!!
« Reply #5 on: March 01, 2010, 05:47:08 AM »
Nobu -
lets hear about some more of your experiences .
i am interested in kartom (sp?)being used to ween of of subtex.
how does one go about doing this ?
i look forward to hearing more on this.
love to all and word is bond.
- hp

Nganga Nobunoni +

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Re: Blessings!!
« Reply #6 on: March 01, 2010, 08:07:10 AM »
For subutex detox with Kratom you need a good full spec extract 30:1' Subutex is a partial agonist as is Kratom' the Kratom binds to the Mu receptors'
It takes 7 days to wipe out subutex with Kratom' then you can ween yourself off the Kratom'

Taking Ibo from Kratom is a very simple transition' you feel fine after one week'


Nobu +

Ok' I shall dig out the goodies'

Spice first :)))