Chasing Close Encounters
I went looking for extraterrestrials on DMT and entered a multiverse of madness.
Written By: GREG GILMAN
A blaze of fire behind a bright, white light soars through the sky on a Tuesday evening in West Los Angeles.
I can barely believe my eyes as I’m coming down from my first rip of DMT. The show was supposed to be in my mind, but now it’s burning before my eyes in the night sky, perfectly framed between the panels of a sliding glass door at a friend’s Baldwin Hills home.
It’s a small miracle I happened to look out at just the right time to catch this seemingly celestial sight. It shocks me out of a conversation about what we just witnessed in our inner worlds.
“Look. At. That. In the sky, bro,” I interrupt. My trip-buddy sees it, too, jolting us to our feet to open the door and marvel in the moment.
The unidentified aerial phenomenon scorches through our vision for 20 seconds before disappearing through the atmosphere.
A remarkable sighting, but two hours later, my excitement about possibly having witnessed an otherworldly craft cruising past my presence is dampened by Google: “Yes, SpaceX launched 24 Starlink satellites on a Falcon 9 rocket from Vandenberg Space Force Base on May 5, 2026.”
It’s a fiery false alarm after weeks of chasing a close encounter with non-human entities for Hiii magazine.
Alien mania may be hitting another cultural fever pitch this summer with the release of Steven Spielberg’s Disclosure Day, a fictional adventure that mirrors a growing public outcry for the government to release any and all evidence of ET contact—an obsession that crashed into the zeitgeist with the 1947 Roswell incident. The controversial craft recovery made headlines just days after private pilot Kenneth Arnold reported the first modern UFO sighting: nine bright, metallic objects flying in V formation near Mount Rainier, Washington, leading to national media coverage of “flying saucers.”
In my quest to catch a glimpse of one, I scanned the night sky for hours at a secluded Malibu campsite overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I even met up with a group of sky watchers who meditate to initiate close encounters at the Rocky Peak trailhead in Simi Valley. Though we saw a few interesting objects zipping by (satellites, I suspect), nothing substantial enough to upgrade me from believer to experiencer.
Now my search for signs of alien life is going a different route. Maybe the truth isn’t out there, but rather in here, through the mind’s eye, which is a position the UFO and paranormal community at large are beginning to converge upon.
Visitors formerly interpreted as extraterrestrial beings from another planet are now being reconsidered as inter- or ultra-dimensional beings who operate outside the limits of space-time, manipulating the golden thread that connects us all—consciousness—to hop in and out of our world. This year’s theme of the world’s largest UAP conference (the current nomenclature: Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena), Contact in the Desert, is “infinite realms,” exploring the question, “What is the true nature of reality?”
I’m not discounting the hundreds of thousands of sightings of UFO activity all over the world. I’m simply ditching man-made telescopes and night vision cameras for a more ancient technology: N,N-Dimethyltryptamine (DMT), a naturally occurring psychedelic compound found in various plants and animals, including us.
DMT, or the “spirit molecule,” as coined by researcher Dr. Rick Strassman, has widely reported as a gateway into another dimension, where a range of strange entities have been encountered, including small grey aliens and tall
mantis-like beings, shrouded in shimmering purple robes. While scanning Reddit, YouTube and other online discussion forums, I notice multiple people reporting mantid encounters say that these benevolent insectoid beings revealed they planted DMT and psilocybin on Earth for humans to utilize for cosmic contact.
I can think of only one way to explore the validity of these wild stories for myself.
On this Cinco de Mayo, my libation of choice is a DMT vape pen, and my mission is to get acquainted with the strong sensations sparked by just one toke. With a second, my body is vibrating and the room is spinning. After a third, I’m ready to roll back, close my eyes, and blast off through inner space, where a weird world of wonder awaits those willing to dance on the edge of insanity.
UNLOCKING THE DOORS OF PERCEPTION
Spielberg says in a Disclosure Day promo that he believes it is a "guarantee" there is life off this planet.
David Koepp, who wrote the film’s screenplay, isn’t so sure, telling me over Zoom he’s an agnostic in spiritual and extraterrestrial matters. But he does gravitate toward a theory in line with my own hypothesis.
“Yes, other intelligent life forms exist. Yes, they’ve been here. They may even be here now. We can’t perceive them,” he says.
“The visual [and audible] spectrum is a very narrow thing, and we know that so much exists outside it,” he continues. “But all the things we’ve invented to sense things, all our modern technology, why don’t we believe that also has a narrow spectrum and things may exist outside of it? Why should we trust our devices more than we trust the possibility that things exist we can’t perceive?”
The doors of perception are blown off the hinges when one ingests powerful psychedelics.
My individuality was incinerated with one inhalation of 5-MeO-DMT last year, vibrating into oneness with the unconditional love that pervades the universe. No entities, however, have appeared in my journeys to the outer limits. But for many others, something has made contact in the infinite realms of possibility between here and there.
After administering N,N-DMT to over 400 volunteers in the 1990s, Dr. Strassman proposed in his pioneering book DMT: The Spirit Molecule that this chemical in the human body may play a role in the alien abduction experience.
“DMT can allow our brains to perceive dark matter or parallel universes, realms of existence inhabited by conscious entities,” he wrote in the introduction before sharing experiences of his volunteers.
“I was in a void of darkness,” recalled one female participant. “Suddenly, beings appeared. They were cloaked, like silhouettes. They were glad to see me. They indicated that they had had contact with me as an individual before. They seemed pleased that we had discovered this technology.”
What was once dismissed as mere hallucination is beginning to be taken much more seriously. A team of top psychedelic scientists recently launched Eleusis, a new N,N-DMT retreat and research center in the Caribbean, which aims to establish sustained, two-way communication with the superintelligent beings people have been reporting meeting for decades.
5-MeO-DMT, a toad secretion also known as bufo, has been nicknamed “the God molecule,” because it is even more powerful than N,N-DMT, capable of taking users to the highest level of consciousness where duality no longer exists. Given the right dose and inhalation technique, the thinking mind is completely overwhelmed, leading to a taste of eternal bliss behind the pesky thoughts and attachments veiling us from pure Source energy.
But the spirit molecule unlocks a door to a perception where the person consuming it remains intact, despite the world around them completely transforming into... well, that depends who you ask.
For me, my first trip was a gentle introduction. The vape pen, I realized after embarking on the ride, wasn’t fully charged. But it was enough to get me to the portal, where shapes of all kinds shifted into impossible forms behind my eyelids. I relaxed into the buzz and fell into a mystical state of contentment.
Meanwhile, my compadre—the man who introduced me to bufo—decided to mix both DMT molecules and is in a deep trance.
“Can I say something?” he asks after sitting silently for 20 minutes. “The God molecule reigns supreme to the astral plane. I don’t need to play there. I don't need to talk to insects or machine elves or any of that bullshit.”
I suspect he’s right. But I’m on the clock. I set out to write about meeting entities, and my deadline is just a few days away.
ENTERING THE MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS
The next night, I decide to go at it alone.
I set up a makeshift bed in my rehearsal studio, dim the lights, turn on an OM chant, and pick up my fully charged DMT vape.
Despite eight trips on the God molecule in the last year, I’ve been burdened by anxiety over the thought of jumping into a DMT realm loaded with entities. Reading dozens of trip reports and interviewing others about their experiences, some of which were described as terrifying, only added to the apprehension. In Dr. Strassman’s book, one man even reported being raped by two alligators while under the influence of the spirit molecule.
What in the actual hell am I doing with my life?
I think of some advice my friend muttered last night just before slipping into his own deep DMT journey: “Trust. Courage.”
We can’t live in fear dictated by other people’s experiences or narratives. This world is plagued by projection, and courage to ignore it in favor of facing every layer of reality with an open heart and mind is the cure.
I raise the vape to my lips and suck in, hard. Within a few seconds, the room is wiggling. The lights are swelling. More. I suck in again. I sense a familiar vibration starting to course through my body. More. Another deep inhale, and I hold it in my belly until that vibration explodes up the chakra chain into the middle of my head. DMT assumes control, and I find myself blasting through the portal I glimpsed last night, entering a more vivid realm of geometric patterns, cotton-candy-colored walls, and shapeshifting structures.
It all hits so fast, I don’t have time to be scared; I’m just here, wherever and whatever here really is. It feels like a twisted funhouse in a carnival of dark energy, somewhere deep down the rabbit hole of consciousness.
“This is where you have to go if you want to learn magick.”
There is something speaking to me, telepathically. I’ve already encountered an entity, I realize, and it is camouflaged within the never-ending motion of its environment while waltzing in constant motion itself. The entity refers to me as a magician. But I don’t want to be a magician. I don’t care for this kind of magick.
“This is an illusion,” I reply. “Don’t you want to live in reality instead of illusion?”
“It’s all an illusion,” the trickster responds. “Nothing is real.”
“No,” I say. “There is something Real.”
Love is Real, with a capital R. No amount of swirling colors and shapes and promises of powers can convince me otherwise.
The effect fades. I’m already departing this multiverse of madness. The term is associated with a Marvel movie I’ve never seen, yet this realm feels incredibly familiar, like I have been here before.
Perhaps the strange worlds depicted on screens and printed on pages are all inspired by spiritual spheres lurking in other dimensions of awareness. Or maybe this psychedelic adventure is shaped by every visual impression imprinted on my mind. Art imitates life, and life imitates art. Where does one end and the other begin? On DMT, there is no distinction.
You should smoke some weed. Another telepathic message. A realization dawns that there was another entity with me from the very first inhale of DMT; an invisible guide, helping me navigate this domain of dark matter.
Roll a joint and come back. It sounds like a good idea, so I step outside my studio, which now feels like a shaman’s hut, glowing in a new shade of mystery. I take a few puffs. The house where my family sleeps peacefully is still standing, unperturbed by the dark arts unfolding out back, and I’m eager to get back to work.
This time, I don’t hesitate to rip into the DMT. But my guide is goading me into smoking more. That’s not enough. Stop being a pussy!
Whoever this guide is—My lower self? An ancestor? A spirit I partied with in college?—he’s kind of a dick. But he’s probably right. I take one more toke, and the vibrations take over again, propelling me back into the madness.
This time, I’m met with slithering vines and tendrils creeping around, and I see the third entity of the evening: a sensual, voluptuous feminine spirit who looks like a cross between Batman villain Poison Ivy and Ursula from The Little Mermaid.
A follower of traditional religions may believe these entities to be demons, but that is a fear-based reaction, and a judgment I don’t care to make. As weird as this all sounds on paper, it’s not frightening; it just is. And it is all very fascinating.
“You can stay longer now because you’re high,” the spirit tells me. “Smoking weed extends the experience.”
She wants me to fully jump in and immerse myself in this world I keep returning to with each puff of DMT. I’m hesitant, though.
“Why not?” she asks. “This is what you came here for. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
She doesn’t really care if I do or don’t dive in. This cool stoner chick with red hair and green tentacles is welcoming, friendly, and nonchalant about the whole thing.
A part of me wants to fully commit to experiencing this close encounter of interdimensional proportions; I can puff on this vape pen all night to keep the dream alive. Eat some mushrooms, my guide recommends to further elongate the journey. No, I decide. It’s 12:15 a.m. now, and this spectacle on the road to insanity rings hollow. The mission has already far exceeded expectations. I’ll come back another day. Maybe mantids and other alien races are waiting for me in this uncanny realm of oddities, but I won’t meet them tonight.
My son will be waking up in six hours, and he is the entity I cherish most across the multi- verse. I don’t want to get lost in inner space. I have too much to live for in my realm, ruled by space-time and parental responsibilities. So, I’m coming down, falling through a plethora of fantastic visions, inspiring deep thoughts about art, creativity, and the meaning of life.
Perhaps there is some kind of practical magic to be discovered through DMT, but for now, I’m done chasing after it.
