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TMA-2/2C-C/14b/5-MeO-DMT/Mescaline: Kandy K in Japan - Day5-6 - K Hits on a Tranny

Aphex Ecstasy

Bluelighter
Joined
Sep 20, 2004
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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.

harajukugraffiti7nm.jpg

(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.

sanpedro2tx.jpg

(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.

53442_l.jpg

(Velfarre flyer)

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.

velfarre47wy.jpg

(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.

velfarre31mc.jpg

(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)
 
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Continuation of Day 4 Homeless in Japan with Methylone, 14B, and 5-MeO-DMT by Kandy K

We were awoken by Angel, who sat down for a smoke. He was shifting his eyes nervously from side to side and couldn't stop himself from laughing like a maniac. He proclaimed to nobody in particular that he could see sound, and more laughter followed. It reminded me of how cracked out 2-CE could make you at times; I absolutely preferred the 2-CC, because it was much more relaxing, mild, and less mental effects than 2-CE. I also did not suffer any body load aside from the puking, but I suspect that to have been the cause of the mescaline.

I usually enjoy the aroma of smoke, but for some reason I was particularly bothered by the stench of cigarettes today after the ingestion of the San Pedro. At this point I am still tripping pretty damn hard when I awake to consciousness.

Soji, Angel, and I go downstairs where the remainder of the crew was drinking refreshments and socializing. Sensei however, was nowhere to be found.

Macchan, who was leaning against a counter, elbowed me softly, pointing his chin up ahead and grinning. "Look up ahead. I've been watching this for so long, I don't even have the strength to laugh anymore."

I turned my head, and finally saw what he was staring at. It was Sensei, dancing in most bizarre manner I have seen. His dance style could be best described as tapping into his subconscious mind, and letting whatever movement instinctively flow out, no matter how ridiculous or scary it looked.

I nudged Soji and pointed to Sensei, and we both cackled, knowing he was probably not even aware of how ludicrous he was acting.

"Sensei is no longer human," Macchan joined us and inspected his spastic convulsions and limp limbs, which were flailing about in every which direction. "We've seriously been watching this for hours and laughing. It just doesn't stop! He's an animal now."

I thought it would be fun to go up to him and talk to him. I asked him what he was thinking.

Up until this point he had been passionately dancing with his eyes closed. Hearing me, he stopped with a jolt and shouted, "I JUST SAW THE APOCALYPSE! THE UNIVERSE FLASHED BEFORE MY VERY EYES!" Sensei's eyes were entranced far off in the distance and his speaking volume suddenly dropped under his breath. "And we are all headed there, soon enough… In 2007, we will all know… It will come."

He droned on with about his prophecies, none of which made any sense to me. I zoned out during most of it because I lacked the mental competency to comprehend his ramblings. I was having fun humoring him and pretending to go along with whatever he said.

"Dude, what did you just take?" I was dying to find out.

"2-CE, DPT, and that TMA-2…I just snorted coke in the bathroom too," he spoke slowly, and out of nowhere he added. "Guess what, I know why people laugh now! Everything…It all makes sense."

I was anxious and a little disturbed waiting to hear what he had to say. "Yeah?"

He nodded with this exaggerated brashness, as if it were something life-shattering. With confident poise, he presented his ultimate answer: "Martha Stewart."

Yup. Total delusion. I let him be after that, to be the utterly schizo he aspired to be, twirling his body in his own distant universe. Macchan came up and knelt down on the dance floor directly in front of Sensei and began bowing to him, as if Sensei were a deity and Velfarre were a sacred Buddhist temple. The rest of the day continued in this bizarre fashion.

At around 6P.M., Macchan and Soji got hungry and wanted to grab some grub. I was pretty worn out myself, so we walked across the street to a ramen shop. The strange thing about being in a club that long when tripping under the explosions of so many blinking lights, is when that image became the norm and it alters your perception. I got so used to picturing indoors in this structure, I believed to be sober until walking outside in the natural sun. There was nothing in the outside world that looked real anymore; Earth had become the background for a multihued fantasyland.

Soji complained of developing a tolerance to 2-CE; his trip had ended even after re-dosing in the club. He indicated how badly he wanted to crash. Macchan and I were still tripping pretty hard and loudly discussing the variety of our visions and what drugs we had taken throughout the night. In my case, it was difficult to tell where one object ended and another began, since I couldn't focus on any lines. This made reading very difficult, as the outer layers of everything in this world blended together like a neon-colored pastel painting.

"Quiet guys, I think I work with some of these people," Soji hushed, implying that he was the most normal out of the group.

"That's paranoia man," I muttered to Macchan.

"Or he's embarrassed to be with us," and Macchan flashed a smile, showing his teeth.

The three of us headed for Roppongi Station; we reeked of sweat and smoke and needed a shower. On the subway, Macchan started playing with the grip bars hanging from the ceiling, swinging to and fro the aisle. Outside of night-life Roppongi, almost the rest of Japan is fairly reserved and conservative.

Soji was aware of the numerous staring and whispered to me, "If you're embarrassed, just pretend to not know him. He does this all the time to me."

I don't think my incessant, rowdy laughter put him at ease either.

Macchan slapped Soji's leg, and Soji ignored him as if he were some homeless bum. Macchan pinched both of Soji's cheeks, taunting, "You can't ignore me forever!!!"

I inferred Soji was more moderate, polite, and shy, and Macchan was more hysterical, outgoing, and open-minded. I got along with Macchan remarkably well, probably better than anybody else I met that week overall. We had probably spent at least a good half of our time in Velfarre and the entire train ride just talking and joking around.

I got off at Tokyo station with Macchan; Soji's stop was in a different area.

I was ready to go to my dad's house and Macchan's house was in Shinjuku, which was in an opposite direction. He escorted me to Oedo Line, where we exchanged pictures and email addresses.

macchan4mu.jpg

(Ha ha Sensei was right, it's the coming of Christ)

"Do you mind?" he asked, reaching for my sunglasses. "I want to see you without your shades."

It was a pretty common thing to wear sunglasses in the middle of the night or indoors in Tokyo, and I got so used to wearing them almost 24/7 during my stay, I totally forgot I had them on.

He took them off and observed my eyes for a second. "You have a cute face! You shouldn't wear sunglasses, it's a waste of your beauty. I don't understand why so many young people do that nowadays. Everybody's so pretty, they should be embracing themselves."

"You're so full of shit," I retorted. "I have like, one evil eye pointed at the ceiling and another lazy eye looking at my right foot."

We let out one last big laugh and said our goodbyes there.

I thought that my week of homeless would be over by now, so I finally returned to my father's place in Chiba to recover. While waiting for the bus back home from Funabashi Station, I got another phone call from Bobby, who just fijnished work and and wanted to go to Velfarre. At first I tried to weasel my way out of it-I was so exhausted I couldn't count how many nights I had spent with a minimal amount of sleep. Still, I knew I owed it to him for acting like an asshole the night we did 5-MeO-DMT, so eventually I gave in and said I'd be over after my bath.

Bobby was impressed when I showed up at his place at 9 P.M. "Damn man, you're pretty fucking hardcore," he praised. "I didn't think you'd actually come. What are you taking tonight at Velfarre?"

"I am still fucking tripping from the drugs I took," I snickered at how junkie I sounded just then. "So just a little more 2-CC and the rest of my 14B."

"Taking it easy tonight huh?" he joked.

So in I went, again. The second time, I was already accustomed to the impact and aura of the place. It was easy for me to immediately head to the dance floor and convulse like a malfunctioning robot.

Back when I picked up Bobby from his room, he allowed me to use his internet for a second. I posted in a Japanese Nightlife group that I was going to be at Velfarre this evening. I did not expect to meet up with anybody, but ran into a 14 year old Japanese girl named Suzuka from the boards. She had just moved from Los Angeles and was looking for new people to party with, whining that her fellow classmates were too square to share any common interests with. I assured her that when I come back to live here in 1-2 months we could kick it sometime.

She wanted to know how to score some X for the sake of testing Japan's quality.

"X is called ecstasy, x, or batsu here," but I quickly advised against it. "Japan's quality could be real excellent or real shit, you never really know, and it's damn expensive. 5000yen for a pill. It's smarter to stick with the legal drugs, at least those are ensured potency and purity." I offered her some of my 2-CC but she declined, conveying that she was already tipsy and planning to get super faded tonight. I dosed half and let Bobby have the other half.

velfarre29dg.jpg

(The 14 y/o I pushed drugs on…hahaahah)

I wished to experience a change in my trip and immediately downed the rest of my 14B in my vial-a total of 11mL. That's when things got REALLY interesting.

I knew when it metabolized into GHB by the way I was behaving, stumbling around and losing my balance every now and then. Looking around, I noticed flat pictures popping out to me in 3-D form. My vision was spinning inside me, this world was swirling around me-now I see why they call it Spiral!

What I appreciated most about this amazing drug were its unexpected empathogenic qualities, along with lowering my inhibitions and producing STRONG erotic sensations all over my body. I was automatically floored by how sexually aroused I became. I leaned back in a chair and my eyelids fluttered when waves of tingling trembled up and down my skin. I closed my eyes and imagined a special somebody in a conscious wet dream and moaned in pleasure.

What a sensual drug this was! This was exactly like rolling on E and being drunk, except so, SO much better! It made me act just as stupid as I do drunk or rolling too. I tried calling the person I was fantasizing about to share my love with him. There was no reception in the club though, so I ended up recording typical E-tarded messages on the phone and sending them to him. Eloquently put, my messages consisted of insightful declarations such as, "I need your loooove," "I love you man!" and "You're the best, bro." (God, how embarrassing)

I was significantly more talkative and nicer to everybody around me, and felt totally comfortable dancing one-on-one with strangers I didn't even know. Everybody else was either rolling, speeding, or tripping and having so much fun with it. I could sense the good vibe and absorbed myself fully in the scene. I was jumping around everywhere all over the place, and it didn't matter to me how silly or preposterous I appeared. In other words, I became a Sensei for tonight. My happiness was identical to a child's-pure, warm, and innocent. It was such a blast I ended up having a better time than the first time I went.

However, one major thing I couldn't get off my mind was sex, and I was fearful of it possibly leading to a potentially unpleasant situation, especially in combination with my EXTREMELY lowered inhibitions. I got impatient at being in such an erotic mood for so long I actually went into the bathroom to "relieve myself." Masturbating in the bathroom wasn't too bad, since they were kept unusually clean, and the music covered up any noise. Unlike sober sex, pleasure was spread out evenly through my body and not concentrated in one area. I found myself losing train of thought and getting bored before getting close to orgasm, inevitably giving up.

What I did next is unbelievable and totally out of the ordinary for me. As it turns out, I hit on............................get ready, bwaahhaahahaha...........................a FUCKING TRANNY IN THE WOMEN'S BATHROOM!

(I will allow a moment for you readers to compose yourselves.)

I was innocently washing my hands at the sink, when he…or she…or it appeared, adorned with stretchy women's clothing and dark makeup. I think he was male because he had no breasts, therefore it would be safe to assume he at least had a package. So for the sake of my sexuality and pride, let's just refer to him as "He."

I stopped to check him out and I actually wasn't particularly attracted to him, but I figured, 'Well hey, that's something I never tried before.' So out of mere curiosity, I instigated the first move with casual talk, making sure to compliment his makeup. I'm not entirely sure as to why I was eyeing him with such interest, considering he wasn't THAT good looking. I guess that is the mystery of Spiral.

"Are you rolling?" before waiting for any response, I asked another question. "Can I touch your face?"

He wasn't rolling and was quite friendly to me, but I could tell he was only feigning interest to be nice. I gave up soon after concluding it would go nowhere, and joined Bobby and Suzuka back on the dance floor.

Now I knew why GHB was often used as a date rape drug. It wasn't even necessary to make the victim pass out to convince him/her to engage in intercourse. I began playing the classic "Who would I screw?" game, running a list of repulsive people in my head, and questioned my willingness to get with them this point. I winced in horror as I imagined Dan Quayle, John Ashcroft, and other smelly, beastial politicians. I rejected them all except for one; I'd consider shoving a rose stem up George Bush's ass.

I know for sure this was when the sleep deprivation really started taking its toll on me psychologically. I had made it to Monday at least, 1A.M.

"I'm so tired," I surrendered. "I think I'm ready to call it quits."

Bobby left with me because of his busy work schedule early the next morning, and said he was planning to catch some sleep right away back at the hotel. I said I would stop by in a few minutes, after saying goodbye to Taka's.

Taka was bored and leaning against the rail, surfing the web with his cell phone. He chuckled when he saw me stumbling, "You look tired…You drink?"

"I just got out of Velfarre," I slurred. "That 14B, that stuff is fucked up! I hit on a tranny in the club! A TRANNY, you hear me! Gamma turns me into the biggest such a homoerotic pervert, in the worst way possible. I fucking love it!"

Taka did not show the slightest bit of shock. "Am I supposed to think it's out of your character to pull a stunt like that?"

I thanked him apathetically.

"Maybe you should get some sleep," Taka suggested, implying that I was acting a bit stranger than usual. "This stuff usually conks you out towards the end. Especially since you need it, you've barely slept this week at all!"

My weight felt so heavy it was a feat just to stand up straight; I bent over to sit on the ground several times to catch my breath. I pretty much started sleepwalking, fading in and out of consciousness while standing there talking. I recognized the problem, as this always used to happen every meth binge that went on a little too long. I walked back to the hotel.

The first thing I did back at Bobby's place was pick up the pipe and start smoking some 5-MeO again. Bobby passed on his turn, muttering that I was too crazy to even think of adding another drug.

I soon discovered he was right, because my mind went totally blank after that smoke. I remember the threshold as I was holding my breath, but after it reached a certain summit, my memory drew a complete blank. I didn't remember a single second of my trip; It was like my trip never even existed. I had gotten sucked into a black hole. I philosophized whether I had achieved the enlightenment Buddhists were constantly trying to achieve-Absolute Nothingness for a frozen moment of eternity.

Coming down off the 5-MeO-DMT resulted in a fatigue that struck me twice as hard. I must have been wrecked, because I must have passed out almost instantaneously. The last thing I stored in my memory was blinking, yet somehow my eyes never opened my back up.

And that was it. I celebrated my 20th birthday just how I hoped to-with a cosmic bang! I binged from Saturday night until Monday morning on alcohol, 2-CC, 14B, Mescaline, TMA-2, 5-MeO-DPT, and 5-MeO-DMT. The people I met, the spontaneous string of adventures, all subsequently one after the other in the most revolutionary drug-induced daze. This was an event I would never forget.

Conclusion: I don't think I'll ever be the same again.
 
Woah. That was fucking amazing. I read it all, and loved it. Kandy K, your trip reports are the fucking BOMB. You are quite clearly insane, but that's cool too!

I nearly cacked myself at that Martha Stewart bit. Totally deranged.

I'm coming to japan for a year in a years time so if you're around (and still alive!) then we will definitely have to party.
 
The graffitti in the first photo are stencils of the pictures of Rancid from inside their 2000 self-titled album.

I've also seen them in an art book on stencil art. Maybe even a picture of the same graffitti. Pretty cool...

Great read, as per usual...
 
Awesome report. Love the spontanious detail that only telling a story has. Very entertaining.

PS Why is the Valfarre flyer titled 2002?, Yoji Biomehanika is accually preety dam good, he has some awesome tracks
 
I feel sorry for you that chewing the san pedro wreaked havoc on your guts. Using it in conjunction with TMA-2 was good initiative on your part though. I guess pure M is somewhat almost unobtainable? But then again you are in Japan so who knows what is possible overthere because that is like on the opposite end of the globe to the uk!
 
So is Kandy K back or somebody posting for her?

I have never understood why she was banned in the first place a very unique person with stylized point of view that was conducive to this site.

Boo on who ever banned Kandy K BRING HER BACk
 
I knew that looked like the inside of a Rancid CD. Ahhh those days. Great story. That rave/party/club sounds really fun!
 

I knew when it metabolized into GHB by the way I was behaving, stumbling around and losing my balance every now and then. Looking around, I noticed flat pictures popping out to me in 3-D form. My vision was spinning inside me, this world was swirling around me-now I see why they call it Spiral!

What I appreciated most about this amazing drug were its unexpected empathogenic qualities, along with lowering my inhibitions and producing STRONG erotic sensations all over my body. I was automatically floored by how sexually aroused I became. I leaned back in a chair and my eyelids fluttered when waves of tingling trembled up and down my skin. I closed my eyes and imagined a special somebody in a conscious wet dream and moaned in pleasure.

hells yeah! Exactly like my first time too...and i was in a huge ass party , practically orgasming from the pleasure (well not really, lol but u know what i mean ;)) and I couldnt act TOO fucked up ...me and my friends were literally glued to the wall, smiles plastered on our faces, glassy eyed , we couldnt talk.
Damn that was one of the best trips ever.
 
blahblahblah said:
So is Kandy K back or somebody posting for her?

I have never understood why she was banned in the first place a very unique person with stylized point of view that was conducive to this site.

Boo on who ever banned Kandy K BRING HER BACk

Yes, the Goddess KK was 86d from Bluelight here's her MySpace blog:

http://www.myspace.com/mistressk
 
l]evil said:
Kandy K you've inspired me to binge tonight.

Great thing on a harm reduction board!

This report might be well written and entertaining, but more entertaining in the Darwinish way.. She's setting great examples.. On how to kill yourself.

This many phens together is just having a fucking death wish.. 12 people think this is a great report, I think it's complete GARBAGE. People should not think it's cool to be like Kandy K, it's suicidal.
 
I know but it is also naive to believe that everything she writes is true. People are very quick to comment on her excellent writing style but few people have come forward to say that her work is nothing more than verbose gibberish.
 
Smyth said:
I know but it is also naive to believe that everything she writes is true. People are very quick to comment on her excellent writing style but few people have come forward to say that her work is nothing more than verbose gibberish.

Well her writing style is good - so what if it's not necessarily all true. I've considered that possibility before, and you know what? who cares!

Its not like Hunter s Thompson didn't use plenty of artistic licence in his writings, yet they still kick arse.

True she aint exactly a champion of harm reduction, and her irresponsible drug use may piss some people off, but so what, ultimately people hve to take responsibility for their own actions. If some idiot tried to tell me that they took lots of drugs because K glorified them, I'd laugh in their face, cos they'd be stupid.

Give people enough credit to make reasonable decisions on their own.
 
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