BishopsBishop
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2010
- Messages
- 324
Background: The previous evening I'd chosen to stay up late with friends and do coke instead of keeping my girlfriend (ref: Gemma) company. We started the day on bad terms. She assumed I'd cancel my plans to do acid.
July 6th. Heatwave weekend in the UK, the hottest day we've had this year. I have plans to take two tabs of acid with my oldest friend today. I've done single tabs every other occasion except a drunken birthday party, always an enjoyable and fascinating experience.
My girlfriend is upset with me that I'm going ahead with it. She has an ex boyfriend who suffered mentally from similar excursions and doesn't trust the substance. I go ahead regardless.
Our morning starts off great. Get some breakfast, work off yesterday's hangover, my friend Jamie arrives are we dose by 2pm. We wander towards the woods near my house for a walk around. The woods don't have a path at all and we wade through quite a lot of mud. It's a laugh, and we inevitably get lost. My girlfriend was very quiet when I left, and calls me to tell me she's having some sort of panic attack, but that she 100% didn't want me to come back and make sure she is okay. Seed planted, I'm worried. Jamie asks about how I might deal with confrontation with Gemma whilst tripping so hard. I have no idea, uncharted ground.
When we get home, we're definitely starting to feel the acid - much sooner than usual. We throw down a crash mat amongst the tall grass in my garden and enjoy the sweltering sun and cigarettes. The roof tiles of my house seem to sway along with the trees behind it, we discuss other interesting visual signals. At this point I'm reminded we have a barbecue we'd agreed to attend later this evening. We wonder whether we'd be very good company.
At some point I have a dry exchange with my girlfriend about the day. She is visibly cold with me. One of the reasons I wanted to go ahead with the day was to show her that the whole process was harmless fun and that she needn't worry. I find her upstairs and we sit and talk about how we're feeling about the day, she shows signs that she is deeply upset, I can't ignore the movement in the walls in my room.
We decided to spend some time in my housemates room, drawn in by the slow electronic music leaking out from under the door. Tim hasn't done acid himself but has tried similar substances, he finds it interesting to talk about our experience with us. His room is filled with ornaments from foreign countries returned from travelling, and we marvel at them for a solid hour or more - books, plates, coasters, models. The visuals have ramped up and are now more beautiful and intricate than anything I have ever witnessed, I try to put words to what I'm seeing (lots of them) but my breath is literally taken away. I talk a lot about the difference in body load also; touch seems very different to me, and I'm conscious of the air pushing past me as I move around the room. Picking up objects and grasping them seems very disassociated to me, like I'm watching someone else do it for me.
We decide again to venture into the garden, which now feels like we're traipsing into Eden itself. The grass beneath me is indescribably beautiful, just acknowledging it is an experience. We marvel.
Soon my younger brother shows up at my house. I remember that we spoke about something on the phone earlier, he knows I'm on acid (not an issue whatsoever we've tripped together before). Hilariously, as he walks through the back gate I can't help but shout "Chris you look beautiful!" which he did with the early sunset painted across his face. He makes his way up to me:
"Have you got any baggies?
What? No, why? Are you alright?
Yeah where are your baggies in your house?
Is something wrong Chris?"
He proceeds to walk quickly to my house. I instantly don't trust him. I feel like he's taking advantage of me. I chase after him confused as to what is going on. Why is this person who has just greeted me as if I were a stranger running into my house?
When I find him in my room to confront him Gemma is there also, not facing me.
"What's happening? Chris are we ok?
Yeah mate were fine (sounded and looked passive aggressive to me)
We're brothers. I don't trust you? What's going on
You've obviously upset Gemma
Why? Because I'm on acid? Why would she be upset? Because I'm on acid?"
Me and Jamie are outside in the garden again. I'm very confused. What's wrong with everyone? Am I that much trouble? We're surrounded by such beauty how can people find it in them to feel sad or angry?
Shortly after one of my other housemates comes home. On his way into the house Jamie (tripping partner) jokingly makes a comment about a drunken altercation they had a few weeks before. The response seems aggressive, again. Why's everyone in such a bad mood, we ask?
Later on I spot Gemma having a cigarette outdoors. I walk over to give her a nice hello, see if I can't patch things up. She moves away from me, tells me to leave her alone. I try to reason with her, it's just innocent fun, please don't be upset. She says she thinks it's disgusting and to get away from her. Jamie tells me to come back in the garden, safety measure.
Now I don't know what's to feel. Have I ruined everything? Do these people who I've done drugs with before, some for years, really now hate me?
Later I see Gemma leaving the house. I ask her where she is going. She says she's leaving. I assume she means leaving me, for good. Really she meant leaving for the barbecue (without me). I try to talk to her again.
"I want you to sleep in Tims room tonight.
Tims room? Why? This is my house!
Well I don't want you in it."
She goes to walk back in the house
"This is my house!
I don't care!
Gemma please!
I hate you! I can't be around you when you're this way!
....I love you!"
Gemma looks unimpressed and pulls away.
"Don't you dare say that. Don't you dare.
She grimaces, I've never seen this look in her eyes. Gemma leaves the house."
The next few hours are entirely blank for me, Jamie filled me in.
I went into my room and walked around for about two hours repeating.
I'm on drugs.
I'm dead.
I'm on drugs.
I'm dead.
I'm on drugs.
I'm dead.
I became unresponsive so Jamie just sat with me to make sure I was alright.
At some point I put my fist in a large glass of water, turned it upside down, and poured it over my projector, laptop, and Gemma's laptop.
Eventually I calmed down and got into bed - not sleeping - just calm. He left, understandably.
I'll take over from here. I spent a few hours thinking that the whole point of today - my girlfriend, my oldest friend, my home, my family, was for me to realise drugs would - and had - killed me. In realising this, I had completed the equation of my life, I had fitted the last glaring piece of the puzzle, I had solved the sum - and had died. The universe's cruelest trick - to understand life is to die. I saw my girlfriend's sorrow, my mother's tears, my friends' distress, considered that I never got to experience being middle aged, having children, sharing many more years watching my friends grow old. I had fucked it all, made the biggest mistake, and just as quickly as I'd realised it it was already game over. Oh the irony, the universe's cruelest trick, and like everyone sucker before me, I'd fallen for it.
I felt the power of a lot of time passing - my generation turning to dust, more generations passing, and inevitably, the earth and a thousand other planets had grown, fallen, and disappeared into the clutches of time as I had. Realising that I was still thinking and remembering things, I assumed that the acid had expressed my consciousness into the cosmos, and that somehow, somewhere, a thin sliver of me existed in some form or another.
Then I opened my eyes, felt my body again. I was in my bed, in my room with the lights off. I figured that this was what death is: I'm projecting my bedroom, or what I remember of it, and I'm stuck here forever. The visuals at this point were just simplified coloured shapes covering over everything like painted glass. I hear some voices pass my window outside - exactly as they used to. But the voices just spoke in odd sounds - I figured this was just the best example the remainder of my memory could recall, a sort of 'placeholder'. It all feels like a lucid dream. Cars passed silently outside, their headlights passing over the ceiling just as I remember.
I took off my clothes. I won't need these anymore. I need to piss, so as I stand by my wash basket, and take a piss of self pity all over it and my clothes. Shortly after I'm back in bed, watching the lights of the imaginary cars pass my window. I'm coming to terms with infinite isolation. Will this be it, forever?
I hear people coming home. My best mate Jim, Jasper (his brother) and Gemma. Wow, 3 projections of my mind, acting on auto pilot in my memories. I hear them talk in the kitchen. Muffled words. "Drugs. Russ (me). Drugs. Crazy." I figure maybe this was one of the last conversations I heard. I wrap my duvet around my shoulders (and only my shoulders) and walk into the kitchen - naked. Gemma is the only one that really reacts and walk me back into the bedroom.
Gemma walks in the room, she looks incredibly calm. She sees me naked, doesn't react. Smiles a little. I wonder if maybe I should share a moment with her, just in case it's the last remaining experience of human tenderness. I beckon for her. She explains there's no touching. I'm sad. All I want is to hold her hand or kiss her, to recreate Earth's sweetest emotion, just in case.
I spent the rest of the evening half sleeping, half in amazement that I was still stuck here. If I sleep, does this all get erased?
-----
By next morning I'd realised all that had happened, and Gemma and I had a very, very long conversation.
-----
To conclude, I'd forgotten the most important rule of psychedelics, set AND setting. I became so used to acid being harmless fun I thought these didn't matter anymore, but they absolutely do. These days I don't do acid around my girlfriend, or near my laptop, which I just paid £570 to repair for water damaged components.
Safe tripping.
July 6th. Heatwave weekend in the UK, the hottest day we've had this year. I have plans to take two tabs of acid with my oldest friend today. I've done single tabs every other occasion except a drunken birthday party, always an enjoyable and fascinating experience.
My girlfriend is upset with me that I'm going ahead with it. She has an ex boyfriend who suffered mentally from similar excursions and doesn't trust the substance. I go ahead regardless.
Our morning starts off great. Get some breakfast, work off yesterday's hangover, my friend Jamie arrives are we dose by 2pm. We wander towards the woods near my house for a walk around. The woods don't have a path at all and we wade through quite a lot of mud. It's a laugh, and we inevitably get lost. My girlfriend was very quiet when I left, and calls me to tell me she's having some sort of panic attack, but that she 100% didn't want me to come back and make sure she is okay. Seed planted, I'm worried. Jamie asks about how I might deal with confrontation with Gemma whilst tripping so hard. I have no idea, uncharted ground.
When we get home, we're definitely starting to feel the acid - much sooner than usual. We throw down a crash mat amongst the tall grass in my garden and enjoy the sweltering sun and cigarettes. The roof tiles of my house seem to sway along with the trees behind it, we discuss other interesting visual signals. At this point I'm reminded we have a barbecue we'd agreed to attend later this evening. We wonder whether we'd be very good company.
At some point I have a dry exchange with my girlfriend about the day. She is visibly cold with me. One of the reasons I wanted to go ahead with the day was to show her that the whole process was harmless fun and that she needn't worry. I find her upstairs and we sit and talk about how we're feeling about the day, she shows signs that she is deeply upset, I can't ignore the movement in the walls in my room.
We decided to spend some time in my housemates room, drawn in by the slow electronic music leaking out from under the door. Tim hasn't done acid himself but has tried similar substances, he finds it interesting to talk about our experience with us. His room is filled with ornaments from foreign countries returned from travelling, and we marvel at them for a solid hour or more - books, plates, coasters, models. The visuals have ramped up and are now more beautiful and intricate than anything I have ever witnessed, I try to put words to what I'm seeing (lots of them) but my breath is literally taken away. I talk a lot about the difference in body load also; touch seems very different to me, and I'm conscious of the air pushing past me as I move around the room. Picking up objects and grasping them seems very disassociated to me, like I'm watching someone else do it for me.
We decide again to venture into the garden, which now feels like we're traipsing into Eden itself. The grass beneath me is indescribably beautiful, just acknowledging it is an experience. We marvel.
Soon my younger brother shows up at my house. I remember that we spoke about something on the phone earlier, he knows I'm on acid (not an issue whatsoever we've tripped together before). Hilariously, as he walks through the back gate I can't help but shout "Chris you look beautiful!" which he did with the early sunset painted across his face. He makes his way up to me:
"Have you got any baggies?
What? No, why? Are you alright?
Yeah where are your baggies in your house?
Is something wrong Chris?"
He proceeds to walk quickly to my house. I instantly don't trust him. I feel like he's taking advantage of me. I chase after him confused as to what is going on. Why is this person who has just greeted me as if I were a stranger running into my house?
When I find him in my room to confront him Gemma is there also, not facing me.
"What's happening? Chris are we ok?
Yeah mate were fine (sounded and looked passive aggressive to me)
We're brothers. I don't trust you? What's going on
You've obviously upset Gemma
Why? Because I'm on acid? Why would she be upset? Because I'm on acid?"
Me and Jamie are outside in the garden again. I'm very confused. What's wrong with everyone? Am I that much trouble? We're surrounded by such beauty how can people find it in them to feel sad or angry?
Shortly after one of my other housemates comes home. On his way into the house Jamie (tripping partner) jokingly makes a comment about a drunken altercation they had a few weeks before. The response seems aggressive, again. Why's everyone in such a bad mood, we ask?
Later on I spot Gemma having a cigarette outdoors. I walk over to give her a nice hello, see if I can't patch things up. She moves away from me, tells me to leave her alone. I try to reason with her, it's just innocent fun, please don't be upset. She says she thinks it's disgusting and to get away from her. Jamie tells me to come back in the garden, safety measure.
Now I don't know what's to feel. Have I ruined everything? Do these people who I've done drugs with before, some for years, really now hate me?
Later I see Gemma leaving the house. I ask her where she is going. She says she's leaving. I assume she means leaving me, for good. Really she meant leaving for the barbecue (without me). I try to talk to her again.
"I want you to sleep in Tims room tonight.
Tims room? Why? This is my house!
Well I don't want you in it."
She goes to walk back in the house
"This is my house!
I don't care!
Gemma please!
I hate you! I can't be around you when you're this way!
....I love you!"
Gemma looks unimpressed and pulls away.
"Don't you dare say that. Don't you dare.
She grimaces, I've never seen this look in her eyes. Gemma leaves the house."
The next few hours are entirely blank for me, Jamie filled me in.
I went into my room and walked around for about two hours repeating.
I'm on drugs.
I'm dead.
I'm on drugs.
I'm dead.
I'm on drugs.
I'm dead.
I became unresponsive so Jamie just sat with me to make sure I was alright.
At some point I put my fist in a large glass of water, turned it upside down, and poured it over my projector, laptop, and Gemma's laptop.
Eventually I calmed down and got into bed - not sleeping - just calm. He left, understandably.
I'll take over from here. I spent a few hours thinking that the whole point of today - my girlfriend, my oldest friend, my home, my family, was for me to realise drugs would - and had - killed me. In realising this, I had completed the equation of my life, I had fitted the last glaring piece of the puzzle, I had solved the sum - and had died. The universe's cruelest trick - to understand life is to die. I saw my girlfriend's sorrow, my mother's tears, my friends' distress, considered that I never got to experience being middle aged, having children, sharing many more years watching my friends grow old. I had fucked it all, made the biggest mistake, and just as quickly as I'd realised it it was already game over. Oh the irony, the universe's cruelest trick, and like everyone sucker before me, I'd fallen for it.
I felt the power of a lot of time passing - my generation turning to dust, more generations passing, and inevitably, the earth and a thousand other planets had grown, fallen, and disappeared into the clutches of time as I had. Realising that I was still thinking and remembering things, I assumed that the acid had expressed my consciousness into the cosmos, and that somehow, somewhere, a thin sliver of me existed in some form or another.
Then I opened my eyes, felt my body again. I was in my bed, in my room with the lights off. I figured that this was what death is: I'm projecting my bedroom, or what I remember of it, and I'm stuck here forever. The visuals at this point were just simplified coloured shapes covering over everything like painted glass. I hear some voices pass my window outside - exactly as they used to. But the voices just spoke in odd sounds - I figured this was just the best example the remainder of my memory could recall, a sort of 'placeholder'. It all feels like a lucid dream. Cars passed silently outside, their headlights passing over the ceiling just as I remember.
I took off my clothes. I won't need these anymore. I need to piss, so as I stand by my wash basket, and take a piss of self pity all over it and my clothes. Shortly after I'm back in bed, watching the lights of the imaginary cars pass my window. I'm coming to terms with infinite isolation. Will this be it, forever?
I hear people coming home. My best mate Jim, Jasper (his brother) and Gemma. Wow, 3 projections of my mind, acting on auto pilot in my memories. I hear them talk in the kitchen. Muffled words. "Drugs. Russ (me). Drugs. Crazy." I figure maybe this was one of the last conversations I heard. I wrap my duvet around my shoulders (and only my shoulders) and walk into the kitchen - naked. Gemma is the only one that really reacts and walk me back into the bedroom.
Gemma walks in the room, she looks incredibly calm. She sees me naked, doesn't react. Smiles a little. I wonder if maybe I should share a moment with her, just in case it's the last remaining experience of human tenderness. I beckon for her. She explains there's no touching. I'm sad. All I want is to hold her hand or kiss her, to recreate Earth's sweetest emotion, just in case.
I spent the rest of the evening half sleeping, half in amazement that I was still stuck here. If I sleep, does this all get erased?
-----
By next morning I'd realised all that had happened, and Gemma and I had a very, very long conversation.
-----
To conclude, I'd forgotten the most important rule of psychedelics, set AND setting. I became so used to acid being harmless fun I thought these didn't matter anymore, but they absolutely do. These days I don't do acid around my girlfriend, or near my laptop, which I just paid £570 to repair for water damaged components.
Safe tripping.