Anamnesis of a Promise, DMT Post-Trip Report July 2015

It is as if I fear I will never be able to sleep again.
That I would be forever superawake.
Why does that seem the most scary of all things/experiences?

The real me is like the faceless man.
And the faceless man is the many-faced god.
My face is the mask I wear,
my personality the pattern I patent,
how can eternity pass in three minutes?
how can my mind, or that which is experienced by mind,
frizzle into supercomplex, turbocharged space -
I open my eyes.
I immediately regret opening my eyes.
I realize it doesn't make a difference if I had not opened them.
Space is hyperspace - terrifyingly real,
I cannot see its beauty beyond its strangeness -
but actually it is precisely its familiarity that is strange, eerie, spooky.
There is this foreign recognition,
like an anamnesis of a promise I made to forget self-realization -
that to remember is to remember your wish to forget.
Is this space that which from which I emerge?
but there is no I that ever emerged, or that is the witness to this -
because I am emergence itself -
if I recognized this completely I'd never need again to sleep.
Somehow I could choose that path,
the way that leads to the center of the wheel,
the nexus point of Light beyond darkness.
It seems I am not ready for nirvana, yet.