Log of 1 Weekend (Day 5-6) - TMA-2, 2-CC, 14B, 5-MeO-DMT, Mescaline, Alcohol
(Note: This one is long so read it when you have enough time. You won't be disappointed, it's really fucked up, hahahaa)
As the sun rose in preparation for a new day, I reminded myself that I need new clothes again, so I traveled back to my dad's. I figured since I was home I might as well shower here instead of getting clean at a public bath for once. I ran the hot water in the tub and took a minute to rest on the floor while waiting for the bath to fill up. I must have been fatigued because I just conked out on the wooden floor within seconds. Whoops, guess I broke that pledge of homelessness for a tiny bit-sure beat being a subway rat though.
I was awoken an hour and a half later by a phone call. It was Bobby; he wanted to know if I would be up for visiting Shibuya and Harajuku. It was still early afternoon, and that hour of sleep was all that was necessary for me to function. I arranged a time later, allowing myself enough time to bathe.
We met up with his Japanese friend from America, who now lived in Shibuya. He was a young, athletic 19 year old male; Used to party back in the states, but reformed now.
"Call me DJ," addressing me, he shook my hand. "Hajimemashite." (Nice to meet you.)
Having absorbed cultural practices from living in two countries, DJ and I switched periodically between English and Japanese discussion without so much of a second thought. I invited him to come join Velfarre's after-party tonight, but he declined.
"Not really into that scene anymore," he trailed off, a bit depressed. "When your friends start getting heavily into drugs…Kanashiiyo…" (It's sad.)
I didn't have anything to say.
We spent hours sight-seeing and shopping along the Shibuya/Harajuku area-the guys I was with shopped for clothes, while I snooped around for drugs. It was refreshing going someplace besides Roppongi for once.
(Random sick graffiti in Shibuya.)
Last month, I explored all existing headshops in Shibuya and almost all of them carried only methylone. However, I knew of one special, large smoke shop where they sold a wide variety of natural drugs. Their assortment included iboga, armanita muscaria mushrooms, san pedro cactus, peyote, salvia 40x (40x!!!), and legal herbal alternatives for ecstasy, marijuana, and so forth.
This is the same store that used to sell mushrooms before they became illegal in 2002. I had high hopes for any mescaline-related products, as I was worried they were headed in the same direction as mushrooms. To prevent this sacred cactus from becoming banned, they do not display any cactus products on the counter. Instead, they are in a hidden area of the store, and you must ask the cashier for them; additionally, they will not sell to you if you look suspicious or do not speak Japanese.
The main reason for this is because a few years back, some tourist took mushrooms and could not handle the intensity of Tokyo's atmosphere… In short, he had a bad trip, went nuts, attacked several people, and created quite a riot. I knew of another store in Shinjuku that practiced similar business trading with Ahayuasca and other items; they will refuse to sell to people who are not quite knowledgeable on the subject.
I purchased 10 grams of San Pedro cactus, a total of 4500yen. It came pre-packaged in a tightly sealed bag, and was decorated as if it were potato chips or some kind of snack you could buy at a gas station.
(The letters read "Super San Pedro")
The day had gotten dark not too long ago, and we finished up touring the city. DJ announced that it was time for him to get going.
"Right around 9PM, there's a guy right nearby the entrance of 109 that sells hallucinogens," DJ tipped me off. "Have fun tonight."
Half an hour left. Bobby and I spent the remainder of that time getting a chance to nourish ourselves with simple food. 9 on the dot, we rolled by, and sure enough we found him in a broad alley to the left of 109. I knew that he was selling RC's because I recognized some slang terms I heard and picked up here and there, such as "pinky" or "flash," but there was one problem: There was no way of finding out what the actual chemical compound was.
I inquired about his material. "What is the actual chemical that's in all these?"
For some peculiar reason, he refused to specify any details, and claimed some bullshit about "secret ingredients." I knew he could not have risked bunking the quality with illicit material, considering this stand was the most famous one in Shibuya (out of 3), and police tested these products on a regular basis. But whatever it was, it was some shady retail marketing. Without being able to identify what a chemical was, how could I possibly be expected to buy it, know how much to take, what to expect, and so forth? I can see why there have been some RC-related deaths in Japan now.
"I would rather buy from Taka's store," I decided. "Let's go back to Roppongi, too much going on here." I did not feel safe tripping in Shibuya; there were far too many people and distractions. It was so crowded this Saturday, no matter where I was walking, somebody was almost always brushing shoulders with me.
"I'm sick of dodging people," he complained as well. "But I have to work early tomorrow, so I'll have to join you tomorrow night for Velfarre. Cool?"
I didn't mind. I was sort of relieved because now I didn't have to worry about entertaining somebody. Now I could abandon all responsibility and act as carefree and unconventional as I wished. We crossed over to the next city by way of subway and hiked opposite directions once arriving at Roppongi Station.
"Good morning," Taka wasn't aware of how sleep deprived I was. "Rest up plenty?"
"I've gone by so far this week with like 8 hours of sleep total," I sighed. "But I'm too excited to be tired. I've been waiting ages for this weekend to come."
"You really have a lot of energy, don't you?" Taka, baffled, cocked his head to the side. "I don't know how you do it. The only other person I know that's as hyperactive as you is Angel. What are you planning to do at Velfarre tonight anyhow?"
"I bought some mescaline," I showed Taka the package, and he nodded with interest. "I think I'll be combining with the rest of whatever's left over from the week."
I calculated and estimated a remainder of 80mg of 2-CC, 11mL of 14B, and 25mg of TMA-2 I could use.
"Should be safe to combine. Just go easy on the 2-CC," Taka counseled, giving reasonable guidance as always.
I recognized two figures-Sensei and Angel-advance to the store. Accompanying them were a stylish female and male, both petite and appearing in their early 20's. They gave off the impression that they were a wild bunch, with Sensei being the only exception, appearing more on the square side. Almost all of us aside from him were wearing sunglasses and jeans, but I could distinctly see how my casual California beach girl outfit differed from their taste. Like rock stars, every detail about them was crafted to perfection, complete with extravagant accessories. They were decorated from head to toe adorned with rings, multiple belts, studs, facial jewelry, and more.
I admired the freedom of being able to dress as outrageous, repulsive, or radical as possible without any judgment. Basically, you could be whoever the fuck you wanted to be in this city, no holds barred.
Taka reported, "This crew had their usual today."
"Their usual?" I didn't understand what he meant.
"100mg of 2-CE, split between 4 of them."
He made it sound like they were regulars who just ordered a meal from a restaurant. I noted that they must be frequent customers to have a "usual."
Taka reached in his back pocket for a pack of smokes and lit a cigarette up in his mouth. Between puffs he asked about our plans for tonight.
Angel spoke up first. "Haven't decided yet. Thinking about going to Gaspa first, or maybe Hideout-it depends on our mood."
"We should take her along!" Sensei proposed, gesturing to me. "She's freaking crazy."
"She does fit your group," Taka smirked.
"Yeah I remember you from Hideout. Sure thing," Angel cracked a smile and graciously accepted my presence. "You're the one from America huh? Real crazy like me? You'd probably like ____." (He gives the name of a place I can't remember.)
Everybody around laughed, except my confused, naïve self. "Huh? What is that?"
"It's a messed up bar where all the Iranians go to," Taka spat out bursts of cackles in between sentences. "Really dangerous club. The last incident that occurred there, several guys brought katanas in. Some guy lost a finger, another got sliced in the chest, one may have died, who really is keeping track anymore? Seriously though, stay away from that club, we were just joking around."
"Sounds fun," I spoke with an uncertain optimism.
Angel beamed with delight. "Finally, somebody who understands me and feels the way I do!"
Angel and Sensei eventually warmed up acknowledged me and their other friends, introducing us to each other. I forgot their names, but I do remember the pretty woman was his wife, and I THINK the man's name was Soji, but I could be wrong. But for the sake of making the story less confusing, he will be known as Soji regardless.
At 10PM, Angel and his wife were ready to get the ball rolling and take the initiative on where to go. Soji and I were more laid back and ready to go along with whatever was handed to us. Sensei got an unexpected emergency call and had to leave, promising to meet us in a couple hours.
The rest of us chilled at a smaller club on the 5th floor, where the music was crappy house. The drinks were expensive for my budget, but I bit my lip and ordered a tall glass of vodka to swallow with my cactus. I lacked the basic resources to concoct mescaline extract, and figured it would work just as well if I ate the San Pedro straight from the bag and washed it down with alcohol. And if not, at least I'd get a bit tipsy.
Munching on the cactus was pretty rank, but the taste was not the most awful I've endured. It was practically identical to the "expired plant" tanginess of Hawaiian baby woodrose seeds, and it certainly beat the taste of bitter chemicals like 5-MeO-DPT or MDMA.
I leaned against the bar sipping my drink with Soji while Angel and his wife thrashed their bodies about to the music. She was also drinking, while Angel combined his 2-CE with some 4-Ho-DiPT.
As time passed, I felt a churning nausea in the pit of my stomach-it was a sign of good news, that the drug's effect would be taking place shortly. The sickness wasn't too bad at first, but sharp pangs kept escalating in various areas of my digestive system. Listening to music did not help taking my mind off it, as the set was terrible. I did not want to take the chance of throwing up and wasting precious drugs, so I sat down, planning to move as little as possible until it passed.
I held it in for at least an hour, and the three motioned that they were heading out, so I followed. Soji got a call from Sensei and they picked a place to meet up.
"That place sucked, that DJ can't spin for shit," Angel grumbled critically. "Not much action there tonight either."
I was too nauseated to be hopping around, and was relieved when they opted for a less crowded bar to go relax. The next designated spot was a regular bar with easy, ambient music streaming in the background. This was a bar people went when they needed a place to unwind and rest. Sensei had another friend with him. His name was Macchan, a tall guy with super dreadlocks, with the ones in the back going all the way down to his waist. I did not see too many hippie types in Japan, but this guy's look took the cake.
Angel, his wife, and Soji shot a game of pool while Macchan and Sensei shot darts. They asked me to join, but I and complained that I was having a bit of an upset stomach. Within a few minutes, Angel and his wife were agitated and wanted a more stimulating, party atmosphere. They announced that they were going to Hideout, and invited anybody else to come. Macchan decided to leave with them, while Sensei and Soji stayed to shoot more pool. I took it easy, waiting for the nausea to pass. We set it up so that we would regroup later in Velfarre.
I opened my leftover TMA-2 and snorted three quarters of it in the bar. Sensei was a regular here so the workers knew his name, and there were almost no customers in the bar that weren't passed out on their stool, so they were cool with it.
"What you snorting?" Sensei strolled by me and leaned over, aiming to strike another ball.
"Taka's one and only TMA-2. This is the last of it too."
I gave him the tiny bit that was left, cause sharing is caring, and there's nothing more junkie than losers who are stingy with their drugs. After he snorted I felt guilty not offering Soji any, so I offered some of my 2-CC. He declined, already being under the influence of 2-CE. I could imagine what a high dose it was, given how he was the only one sweating pretty badly out of everybody else.
Sensei requested some different music from the basic rock that was streaming, and the bartender put in an ambient trance CD. This fit the mood of the three of us better, and I was content because my visuals were just starting. Right now, tiny dots were appearing wherever beams of light shone; they were bright molecules magnified to a marble of glass rainbow. I noticed visual distorting to increase when my eyes were closed.
My tummy was still churning and processing the cacti. I sat at the bar, and the bartender and a drunk I was sitting next to initiated a three-way conversation with me. I told them I was from America and just celebrating my 20th birthday-my first day of adulthood-in Japan. She congratulated me and gave me a free drink on the house; I ignored my queasiness and made it a gin and tonic.
I don't know if mescaline and TMA-2 alter your concept of time, because before I even knew it, it was 6A.M. Time to meet up with the rest of the pack. Finally, the moment I had been waiting for had come! I had never been to Velfarre before, but it was the most famous and largest club in not just Tokyo, but all of Japan . I heard nothing but good things about it, so I had high expectations for this event.
Upon entrance, the Velfarre club was not only huge, it had total class. The owners must have taken the main components to make a club (music, cleanliness, design), and then taken the extra step to enhance all the features and lavish the club, thereby adding an extra boost to it.
(Outside the club, 1st floor.)
The club itself was 3 stories, with each floor playing a different set of hardcore, trance, or house. Even the elevator was like its own room, complete with dance lights and music.
And the sound system! Never in my life have I heard more realistic-sounding, incredible speakers-not even at raves or concerts. Hell, I'd go as far to say it topped every massive I've attended as well. Thank God for Japanese technology.
Sound flooded every inch of the room with a fervent spark; the music carried an almost-tangible vibe that drowned me in my auditory senses. It just sounded so… REAL! That is the only word I could possibly use to describe its quality; so superb and rich that the moment I became engrossed in a field of notes, I peaked HARD on an MDMA flashback.
(One set of speakers on the 3rd floor.)
It was everything I expected, plus more. Mere pictures and statements could never possibly justify what how extraordinary it was.
But what really enhanced the club experience was insanity of the atmosphere around me. And man, I thought the Japanese partied hard before, but I hadn't seen anything till now. As disclosed, the real fun in Roppongi begins from 5A.M., and wholly fucking shit, they were right. This was the time all the core kids gathered together to drop mad hallucinogens, and sometimes spend entire days partying till their bodies can't take the heat anymore.
For starters, all of us in the group did something different. Through out the night, I would soon find out that: 1) Angel combined 4-Ho-DiPT and 2-CE, 2) His wife was on alcohol and 2-CE, 3) Sensei added DPT and cocaine to his 2-CE, and TMA-2, 4) Soji just drank and did 2-CE, 5) Macchan made do with 4mg AMT, 2-CE, and some other chemicals I don't remember.
This sort of binging is not uncommon in Tokyo. All the club kids pop research chems like it's alcohol here. Hell, even when they are taking it easy, they still do at least one. Not to mention, core kids dance like total fucking freaks, and I absolutely adore them for it. It didn't shock me, considering they binge, fuck, dress, and do everything else like freaks too.
My nausea hadn't fully died down, so I simply bopped my head to the music while I observed the entire group flailing about. Their primary theory was: Get cracked out, look cracked out, dance cracked out. Sharp and rigid movements were the trend, complete with a very unexpected, sudden jerk or thrash here and there. It looked cool, creepy, scary, and ridiculous at the same time, all while having a gothic, artsy sort of connotation to it. Crackhead robots, in essence.
Macchan and Angel stood out the most out of everybody in the room. Macchan acted as the comedian of the group, shoving shoved two neon0green glowsticks up his nose and went up to people pretending to have a bad case of the shakes. We all laughed watching his body form twist into a sharp seizure; the spasms were eerie looking, yet controlled to move to the pace of the song's beat.
Angel only moved his hips and upper body to the beat, while his legs staggered around like a drunkard's. The contrast of his top and bottom half made him look extra drugged out. But he maintained pretty good control; whenever you thought he was about to crash head on into somebody, he always jerked his body the other way at the last moment. I wondered if this was a practiced dance form based on how well he was able ot manage his body, or if it was how he naturally expressed himself on certain drugs.
It was straight dancing for several hours, and the group split up somehow. I ended up with Soji, and we took the elevator down to the hardcore room in the 2nd floor. For some reason in Japan, the hardcore room is where everybody goes when they need a place to relax. We seated ourselves at a table and slowly slouched our weary bodies in the chairs.
"2-CE always relaxes me," Soji said after I noticed him nodding off.
My visuals were coming on pretty decently, and everything had a dazzling glow to it. However, I still wanted to achieve a psychedelic peak higher than where I was; I dosed on an additional 20mg of 2-CC intranasally.
I was close to dozing off, when I was struck with this tremendous, unbearable throbbing in my stomach 15 minutes after the 2-CC. I thought to myself, 'Fuck this,' and ran to the bathroom to upchuck.
I ended up puking my fucking guts out. And it was fucking awesome! I definitely rate it among one of the top five pukes of my life. Hah, so I came back and from well, this point on, my memory is a little blurred. But I must have had one banging ass time, because I passed out with Soji in the hardcore room later.
(continued in next post)