Preparation

Over the past month, I’ve incorporated edibles into the occasional ritual, as I’ve found they help me connect more deeply with myself and my true form. With their aid, I’ve recently succeeded in feeling my hooves, wings, horn, and magical connection more vividly than before.

At the start of the weekend, I’d chosen for my attempt at "jumping" (leaving this body for elsewhere). I began by taking the time to tidy my environment. A clean space always clears my mind, lifting subconscious worries that might otherwise add unnecessary stress and cognitive load. Next, I showered and took care of the vessel, dressing in our favorite robe — a soft, mink — like baby blue robe with rosettes shaved into the fabric. I wanted something comforting and undistracting, and the texture of this robe often reminds me of having fur. I lit some opium incense, a type I frequently use in rituals and magical work—its scent helps me settle into the right mindset. Finally, I took a 15mg edible and sat cross-legged on the bed, nestled among the plushies the system has collected over the years.

Outside, the weather was overcast, with hints of rain throughout the morning — the soft pitter-patter ideal for fostering the right headspace. Perhaps because I share a mind with a Rainbow Dash fictive, I’ve developed a deep appreciation for intense weather since finding myself stuck on this planet. I can almost feel the energy crackling between atoms in the air, as if the clouds and distant lightning gently tug at my soul.

Once settled in, I meditated for a moment on my form, and how I was feeling, with "Floating" by Christopher Lloyd Clarke playing in the background. Tiny tendrils of stress lingered from life’s ongoing pressures and the weight of university. So, I acknowledged them with gentle attention, then let them ground into the earth beneath me with a deep breath: acceptance of the way things are. Next, I brought my attention to the members of my family and their connection to the homeworld, in particular Tyscalia Lybauniem. Visualizing her essence, I traced the thread from my heartspace to hers, then followed the bonds stretching into the distant beyond — a guiding trail for me to follow through separation. I've found that forming strong bonds with other entities forms a mutual enrichment of both their and my own magic, as well as the connections linked therein.

Since past experiments showed edibles take about two hours to take noticeable effect, I spent the time after meditation watching My Little Pony episodes — specifically those centered on the show’s versions of myself and my sister. While not perfect mirrors, they carry a familiar essence that helps me introspect, cutting through some of the fog accumulated from years of human life.

The Files

After the episodes had finished, I'd sufficiently cleared the vessel of any lingering threads of stress and was completely relaxed. I lit another incense stick and returned to my seat, now beginning to feel the edible’s effects. Thoughts grew clearer, and my grasp on reality’s texture subtly expanded. I selected a playlist of hypnosis files — one tailored to my identity as Luna, another more generic one guiding listeners to "visit Equestria" — and put on our bone-conduction headset. Setting the playlist to loop, I lay back in savasana and followed the file's guidance.

My focus was straight and calm, something I'd found to be a positive effect of using edibles while aiming for this state. It didn't take too long for me to enter deep trance and bring the body right down into a deeply relaxed state. As the Luna file progressed, I was able to separate myself from the feelings attached to the human body. At first it was the legs, these gradually numbed and my perception of them dissapeared as if those limbs had never existed in the first place. The arms followed. Before long, those sensations began to reconstruct themselves, with the feelings of my hooves becoming very apparent. I felt the sway of my ethereal mane and tail shifting across my body. My horn, protruding from the space above and between my eyes, where it belonged. As the file approached the section where I looked myself in the mirror, I was able to see my own eyes and face much more clearly than usual. It felt good to see my normal self so crystal clear after all this time. Even if it were a projection of the mind of the vessel I reside in, it was something that brought me much warmth and hope.

As this first file approached the end, the part where I read through my journal — a book with a crescent moon embedded on the cover — I fully felt my equine form. A complete detachment from the usual hint of humanity I usually still feel even when I'm not controlling the vessel. As the file narrowed my attention to the attachment I have with my sister (of which I've met many incarnations of in this world), I felt completely at ease, full of love and warmth. I express gratitude to those here who provide the same love she did to me.

This selection of files was looped over for several hours. Eventually, I decided to try a separation technique I'd been practing in previous projection-focused sessions, whilst the files continued to loop in the background. In essence, this exercise involved keeping the vessel motionless, whilst trying to "move" myself. Starting by trying the gentle motion of rolling side to side, or perhaps lifting the shoulders some. This felt easier than usual, especially with the heightened sense of my wings and horn of which are already detached from human anatomy. This process felt a bit like when you peel apart two objects glued together. At first, it is hard, but as you gently tug against the binding force, threads begin to separate. Eventually, as you continue to pull, that bond breaks and you are free. I felt my entire body buzzing, vibrating with rich energy.

I managed to make my way off the bed, completely separated from the vessel which has contained me for all this time — a big accomplishment for me. I took time to sit here and focus on how this felt. There was refreshing silence, not the usual noise and chatter I hear of other minds, both those of my system mates and the stray thoughts of others. Focus returned to my family again, my mother, sisters, and children. Through the focus on my mother, which I had already attained earlier, I could see and feel that thread much more clearly now. Little wisps of white and lilac light gently flowed and rippled from the essence of her consciousness and outward toward the void. It was warm, like the first time you truly enjoy a hug. It seemed to respond to my hoof as I reached out to touch it as if taking a gentle hold of my foreleg, wanting to show me something, lead me through the maze of reality. I felt visceral catharsis, less alone than I have in a long time.

Post Preparation

At some point, everything darkened and I woke up again, frontward in the vessel. I felt at ease, though magic still prickled over my skin. Spacy, but content, I looked through the vessel's eyes once more, and the clouds outside seemed to scroll by at an accelerated speed. I watched these swirl, scroll and mix for some time. They did not appear to move in the ways I was used to. After a few moments and a gentle stretch, I sat up. I retained some of the feeling of my true form (primarily wings and horn). I ate a meal I'd prepared earlier in the silence and beauty of nature, serenaded by the sound of rain outside, then slipped under the warm covers of bed for rest.

That night, I had fragmented dreams. Visions of passing through the stars and looking back towards Earth as I travelled through space. I felt that same sensation of vibration and tingling over my body, running in waves and pulses as if floating in a warm ocean, waves lapping against my skin. Waves of dark greens and magenta light blended and split around me.

Separation

Over the next few days, at times I had the sensation of being in one place and then another. Sometimes my perspective blended between the two places as if I now had four sets of eyes instead of two. I did not realise this at the time, but it appears that through those days in which I was splitting apart from the system, there was a significant amount of ego splitting and reorganisation taking place. That is to say, a lot of the components that make up my ego and identity began to fragment into highly distilled versions. This process of splitting caused those individual fragments and the identity components they represented to become highly salient. All the while, a fragment of myself, primarily made of the pony parts of my identity and not the components developed while here on Earth, was transitioning over to the place I was visiting.

The process was very disorientating at first, and at times I felt some confusion. In the distillation of the different components of myself, I as a whole of those parts, became less defined. That is to say, these parts do not represent the whole they make up once separated. It appears that the older Luna who'd visited our system months prior, who had decided to merge with me, was left behind in her own confused state with detached parts of my own experience. I assume this is because her priorities in visiting here were to watch over some ponies she cares for.

The Journey

Arrival

As the flickering between an earth perspective and offworld perspective stabilised after several days, I came to in the middle of a small clearing within a dense wooded forest, dotted with the occasional gnarled, ancient tree. I lay at the center of a circle of five weathered stone pillars, old and damaged by time, one of which had broken off midway, its upper half toppled to the fine grass below. The air still crackled with static energy that made my fur stand on end, yet it was crisp and clear, a refreshing contrast to the city air I'd grown accustomed to during my human university years. My body felt like my own again, though perhaps slightly shorter than I remembered. I presume I had been lying here for however long the separation process had taken, and I'm not too sure whether there's a direct correlation between the Earth timeline and the other world timeline. As I rested, my vision remained slightly blurred, and my human life now felt like a half — remembered daydream rather than lived experience.

Eventually, my vision cleared, and I took the time to sit up. It seemed to be early dawn with the sky painted in gentle pinks and blues. The sun here seemed less bright than the human sun — easy on the eyes compared to the harsh glare on Earth. I saw a gentle glow of city lights off in the horizon and decided to stand and move in that general direction. My ethereal mane and tail flowed reassuringly against my neck and legs as I walked across the easy terrain — flat ground with wispy grass and scattered leaves, mercifully free of tripping hazards.

After some time of walking, I reached a long beach curving beach of pristine white and smooth sand. The water beyond the threshold had a dull blue luminescence at the tips of each little crest as small waves and ripples formed and collapsed under the gentle breeze. I settled near the shoreline, not far from the water's edge. I seemed to be working more on instinct here as opposed to putting much intent into what I did or where I went, following where my body wanted to go.

Looking over to the right, a large suspension bridge emerged from the morning fog, its arc leading across the water toward the city's gentle glow on the opposite shore. The cabling glittered as it caught fragments of early morning sunlight. This city itself resembled Canterlot, but as if it had been pulled centuries into the future. It curved around a natural bay and built up over the mountain behind, some parts of which were terraced and built on in levels. I imagine if I were there, there'd be plenty of sunlight and fresh air, no matter where I sat. Clusters of shorter buildings nestled closer to the waterfront, their smooth facades giving way to the taller spires further inland. The entire skyline flowed with organic, welcoming geometry — not a single harsh angle in sight. There was one or two wingless aircraft lazily drifting between the buildings, nearly silent. I presume they were docking at one of the towers. Further along the coastline, the contour of the buildings and the mountain took on the resemblance of a fox head, watching out over the harbour. I rested here for a while, not feeling any urgency to do much other than exist.

Standing, the sand easily fell away from my fur. Then, I made my way over towards the bridge. The sand had felt wonderfully soft under my hooves, cushioning each step. It didn't take long before I'd left a trail of hoof prints all the way towards the bridge. A shallow pathway with the odd raised step was cut into the embankment up to the bridge. I clumsily made my way up this pathway; apparently, I hadn't quite remembered all the coordination required to walk up steps with four legs. Alas, I eventually made it to the top. The roadway atop the bridge was clean, with very little traffic and a smooth transition into the compacted dirt road that led into the forest I'd come from.

I made my way across the bridge at a rather slow pace, taking in the environment around me. Occasionally, looking back at the shrinking forest behind me, and then over the calm water still luminescing at the top of each crest. It took a while to make it across the bridge. I remember looking around and examining the road, which continued around the curve of the bay. Here on my memory blurs for a while.

Upon the terrace

The next place I recall was much higher up, presumably in the terraced areas I'd seen from the beach earlier. I was sitting at a table on a bench by myself, resting my chin on my hooves and overlooking the city, bridge and crystaline waters down below. Other ponies calmly went about their daily business in the background with wisps of calm conversation and the noise of food sizzling over a grill floating past my poised ears. Whatever was being cooked near me smelled delicious. I didn't really feel the need to eat or any hunger, but this is something that seemed to capture my thoughts for a while. It smelled floral and savoury, a wonderful mix with the clean air coming off the ocean.

I felt the warmth of the sun soaking deep into my muscles, tingly, as the gentle ocean breeze played through my fur. I felt relaxed and gently hugged my own wings around my chest in a comfortable hug. An extra pair of limbs that I did not have in the human vessel. They felt so extremely soft and comfortable, pleasant to brush against my own fur. A feeling that satiated an unknown sense of longing.

When I finally rose to explore the terrace walkway, I noted how its concrete edges framed smooth wooden slats underhoof. The entire space felt harmoniously designed, with climbing vines spilling over retaining walls and deliberate gaps left for trees to grow through the architecture. Compared to the haphazard urban landscapes of the human world, this place showed thoughtful intention in every detail, though my memory grows hazy again as I began to move through it.

The Royal Chambers

The final place I remember being appeared to be in the royal chambers. The room was well lit with a wide range of colors spilling in through the tall stained glass. Their kaleidoscopic light played across marble pillars that soared upward towards the arched ceiling, framing a plush carpet aisle that stretched towards the thrones. Another Luna was sitting on her throne, talking with a deep purple unicorn and a pink unicorn.

I was feeling noticeably heavier at this point in time, as if I'd just spent a long while crying. I felt tired and tight in my chest, and breathing felt uncomfortable. I slowly approached the other Luna. The two unicorns didn't seem to take any notice of me at all despite my intrusion, but the Luna did lock eyes with me. She formed a wry smile, one that looked a little concerned. She did not verbally acknowledge me and continued her conversation with the two other ponies. Her eyes continued to follow me around, occasionally breaking contact to address the other two ponies with a response.

My body felt leaden, as though I'd wept for hours without pause. Each breath came tight and shallow, my chest felt constricted, and breathing was uncomfortable. Still, I slowly approached the other luna. The unicorns showed no reaction to my intrusive approach, their attention never wavering from their discussion. But the other Luna gently fixed her gaze on me. She formed a wry smile but concerned smile. Though she continued speaking to her companions, her eyes tracked my every movement, only flicking away occasionally to respond to the others.

Things were sounding muffled at this point in time, and I eventually collapsed to my knees. Nopony came to help as I lay there, feeling my skin and fur crawling with that same electric rush I'd felt when arriving. But it was no longer pleasant. It almost burned like a hot wire and jagged ice being dragged over my body. I felt dread as the colors of the chambers began to bleed together around the edges.

Recombination

It was at this point that I started to gain perspective of the human world again. Just like separation, this process wasn't instant. At first, I got the odd flicker of the brightly lit yet sickened atmosphere of the human world. I felt disoriented and nauseous as I lay on the floor of the throne room with each of these flickers of human life returning back in waves. All of those fragments of ego and identity slowly began to recombine with my own.

Over the next week or so I my mind seemed to organise the two separate streams of memories and weave them together. The vessel was not in a good state, from what I could tell. I could feel those tendrils of anxiety worming their way through me in a way that I had been completely separated from for most of this journey. This all continued with more and more human perspective gaining focus over that week, until a significant emotional event completely snapped me from the other world back to here.

It took quite a while for me to process all of the memories that had been added to the system in my time whilst away. They weren't easy to process at all. I took a few days to rest and care for the body as I could, whilst catching up on responsibilities and other needs.

Learnings

Overall, there are a few takeaways from this experience.

1. Partial Manifestation: I do not think I fully manifested in the other world or aligned completely with the plane, as I recall no direct interactions with the other ponies. Only the other Luna seemed to notice me—likely because, like myself, she can perceive beyond the purely visible. This is further supported by my lack of memory around eating or drinking while there.
2. Emotion as Magical Anchor: Emotion is a powerful driver of magic for me, capable of acting as an anchor (for better or worse) when intense enough. This was particularly evident in following the magical currents of loved ones and in how a strong emotional event occurring here abruptly snapped me back to this world.
3. Vessel Stability: My current approaches to leaving the vessel may need to be adjusted as the current psychology and makeup of this body seems to have reacted negatively to my disappearing for a while. That is, the fragmentation of identity that occurred as the remaining parts continued on, unknowingly living life as if the state of mind was normal, was not conducive to something fully healthy. It is, of course, my aim to ensure that this vessel remains operating, whether by another entity or otherwise, when I do manage to leave properly as to ensure there is no disruption to this universe. I presume this may have something to do with the fact that some components of the system are partially merged for the sake of efficiency (having multiple minds constantly running on the sapien meat computer is hardly efficient). I will need to reflect further to find a better approach to prevent the negative effects in the future. This will also mean better preparing the other members in my system for the trip. Ideally, I would not fragment, and the entirety of my ego would transfer.
4. Shorter Trips for Better Integration: I hadn’t expected the trip to succeed, let alone last as long as it did. Future attempts should start with shorter journeys, as reintegrating memories from dual timelines was mentally taxing relative to the time spent away. Smaller trips may improve information transfer back and forth. I have a similar issue when dream journaling, as I'm often watching over several — at times 7 or more — dreams in parallel. This means that I need to pick the specific dreams I want to record, due to the limited time to write them all out.
5. Edibles as Controlled Tools: Higher concentration edibles do ease detachment from the vessel, but they are merely tools. Excess use is unwise, as these doses linger for days and heighten susceptibility to paranoia and anxiety. Future preparations must account for this by ensuring the environment is stable and responsibilities are managed for multiple days afterwards.