Hypnic_JerK
Bluelighter
So I was talking to my RA, mentioned that I had tickets to an “of montreal” show but noone to take with me. She said that she’d like to go.
I though Of Montreal was a psychedelic band from Canada. They kind of are. Anyway, I took 2.5mg 2c-b-fly to see what the low dose trip was like on it. I think there was someone on this forum who said that it may be active at sub mg doses, and since I’ve been really susceptible to psycedelics lately I figured I could afford to spend a little bit of this drug for a good time.
1930
Dose taken, I do some meditation. It comes really easy to me because I had a great jog today, I really pushed myself and was rewarded with a deep contentedness.
2000-2130 +1
This chunk of time was spent on the L with my RA, who I’ll call M. We go to the metro, (the venue), she had forgot her ID, we go back to the dorm, and back to the show. On the L I have a bunch of positive interactions with people, talking about the unseasonably warm weather, a foreign workers protest, a bunch of stuff. I’m feeling good and centered in my sea of inner happiness.
2130 +1
We enter The Metro and listen to some opening act play. It seems really uninspired to me, and the crowd is dead.
2300 +1
After another couple opening acts Of Montreal comes on. The lead singer is in a wedding dress and has facial glitter on. Yes, I love this freakshow shit. Its all a little off. I came to the show looking to see some sort of self actualized musician. This dude is not that musician.
He has a bottle of champaign that he sips, just barley sips, and he gets through about 1/3 of it by the time the show is finished. He changes outfits several times through the show, mirroring everything I’ve seen on the Marc Bolan DVD. This guy is really shitting on Marc’s grave though. At one point he yells out “Oh man! Don’t ever mix ACID and CHAMPAIGN!” and its never been more clear to me in my life that someone wasn’t on acid. I yell back, “Bullshit you Faggot” because it just came over me. This actually causes the girl in the band who seemed to be enjoying herself (the other members looked like they were at work) to start making eye contact with me till the end of the show.
So the music goes on, and while it all sounds great, I pick up the lyrics and they’re just utter bullshit. This “musician” is an asshole. To confirm that, at one point he starts talking about how the girl won’t sleep with him after the shows, and how he is entitled to fuck her because shes in his band. It really doesn’t go over well with her, she looks all uncomfortable. Then he improvs a song by the kinks about being tired of waiting for you, and sings it kinda weird and I can tell its getting to her.
So I’m just not feeling it. I came out to enjoy myself, but no matter how low I lower my expectations the guy just fucks it up for me. Not to mention the dead crowd of cool obsessed indy-fags.
But there’s something to the music. It sounds really nice until I listen to the lyrics. Then the only unusual/trippy part of the night happens when I get smacked in the brain with a sick realization: With all my flaws I’m a better person than this pretender to the throne, but he has come across a formula for catchy background music. Doesn’t this asshole know that you can’t fool the children of the revolution?
0045 +2
So after I finally get that this, the music is fun and I lose myself, dancing and being happy whatever just the same old hippy bullshit, right? Nah. This girl keeps yelling at me for dancing, saying I was in her space and that I was touching her. I tell her that this is a standing room only venue and that I’m sorry. She keeps it up, trying to get her boyfriend to mess with me or something. He actually walks around all hesitant and stuff before coming up to me being a hardass asking me if I have a problem when really I’m not doing anything to him or his girlfriend. Also I’m about twice his size. I tell him to chill out, I’m here for the music. He sort of stumbles off, and comes back after his girl fucks with him some more, and I just fight the urge to say something like “You gotta control your bitch, man” like I used to, and instead turn to inner peace. I was also really tempted to blast him one in the gut. Anyway I just try and send positive viberations out and then this huge Mexican guy, who introduces himself as Tito comes in and takes my side and starts messing with the annoying couple, much to my delight, until the end of the show.
Well its 3000 now and I feel about as sober as ever. What I learned: Next time I go to an indy rock show bring my drinking/coke friends and not a girl. Also, in a semi-intense setting low doses of 2c-b-fly may not rock me.
I tried to write this report more subjective than objective for ya’ll, those words don’t really fit but if you compare this to my others I think you’ll see what I mean.
Peace, love, and ROCKNROLL
substancecode_2cbfly
I though Of Montreal was a psychedelic band from Canada. They kind of are. Anyway, I took 2.5mg 2c-b-fly to see what the low dose trip was like on it. I think there was someone on this forum who said that it may be active at sub mg doses, and since I’ve been really susceptible to psycedelics lately I figured I could afford to spend a little bit of this drug for a good time.
1930
Dose taken, I do some meditation. It comes really easy to me because I had a great jog today, I really pushed myself and was rewarded with a deep contentedness.
2000-2130 +1
This chunk of time was spent on the L with my RA, who I’ll call M. We go to the metro, (the venue), she had forgot her ID, we go back to the dorm, and back to the show. On the L I have a bunch of positive interactions with people, talking about the unseasonably warm weather, a foreign workers protest, a bunch of stuff. I’m feeling good and centered in my sea of inner happiness.
2130 +1
We enter The Metro and listen to some opening act play. It seems really uninspired to me, and the crowd is dead.
2300 +1
After another couple opening acts Of Montreal comes on. The lead singer is in a wedding dress and has facial glitter on. Yes, I love this freakshow shit. Its all a little off. I came to the show looking to see some sort of self actualized musician. This dude is not that musician.
He has a bottle of champaign that he sips, just barley sips, and he gets through about 1/3 of it by the time the show is finished. He changes outfits several times through the show, mirroring everything I’ve seen on the Marc Bolan DVD. This guy is really shitting on Marc’s grave though. At one point he yells out “Oh man! Don’t ever mix ACID and CHAMPAIGN!” and its never been more clear to me in my life that someone wasn’t on acid. I yell back, “Bullshit you Faggot” because it just came over me. This actually causes the girl in the band who seemed to be enjoying herself (the other members looked like they were at work) to start making eye contact with me till the end of the show.
So the music goes on, and while it all sounds great, I pick up the lyrics and they’re just utter bullshit. This “musician” is an asshole. To confirm that, at one point he starts talking about how the girl won’t sleep with him after the shows, and how he is entitled to fuck her because shes in his band. It really doesn’t go over well with her, she looks all uncomfortable. Then he improvs a song by the kinks about being tired of waiting for you, and sings it kinda weird and I can tell its getting to her.
So I’m just not feeling it. I came out to enjoy myself, but no matter how low I lower my expectations the guy just fucks it up for me. Not to mention the dead crowd of cool obsessed indy-fags.
But there’s something to the music. It sounds really nice until I listen to the lyrics. Then the only unusual/trippy part of the night happens when I get smacked in the brain with a sick realization: With all my flaws I’m a better person than this pretender to the throne, but he has come across a formula for catchy background music. Doesn’t this asshole know that you can’t fool the children of the revolution?
0045 +2
So after I finally get that this, the music is fun and I lose myself, dancing and being happy whatever just the same old hippy bullshit, right? Nah. This girl keeps yelling at me for dancing, saying I was in her space and that I was touching her. I tell her that this is a standing room only venue and that I’m sorry. She keeps it up, trying to get her boyfriend to mess with me or something. He actually walks around all hesitant and stuff before coming up to me being a hardass asking me if I have a problem when really I’m not doing anything to him or his girlfriend. Also I’m about twice his size. I tell him to chill out, I’m here for the music. He sort of stumbles off, and comes back after his girl fucks with him some more, and I just fight the urge to say something like “You gotta control your bitch, man” like I used to, and instead turn to inner peace. I was also really tempted to blast him one in the gut. Anyway I just try and send positive viberations out and then this huge Mexican guy, who introduces himself as Tito comes in and takes my side and starts messing with the annoying couple, much to my delight, until the end of the show.
Well its 3000 now and I feel about as sober as ever. What I learned: Next time I go to an indy rock show bring my drinking/coke friends and not a girl. Also, in a semi-intense setting low doses of 2c-b-fly may not rock me.
I tried to write this report more subjective than objective for ya’ll, those words don’t really fit but if you compare this to my others I think you’ll see what I mean.
Peace, love, and ROCKNROLL
substancecode_2cbfly
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err maybe just a chance.