NitroCat
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2022
- Messages
- 32
"Like an Old Friend in a New Skin"
30mg 2C-B [rectal]
~12mg DMT [vaporized]
Boring biographical: early 30s, did a fuckton of 2C-I about a decade ago, and a bunch of other shit as well, mostly of the trippy sort though I love MDMA and stimulants left to my own devices. The day before I'd taken a good deal of amphetamine to help me power through a early start for dental surgery [50mg total over the course of the day]. A small lapse in judgment on my part has me assuming this will impact my tolerance. It may have, but if it did, it did not seem to matter.
This was an impromptu trip, and my lack of prep is expressed in my lack of notes. A partner of mine with an increasingly close friend dosed some 4-HO-MIPT and were having a grand time over voice chat when I finally decided to dose. It was about 23:00 at night when we got around to things [exact T 00:00 = 23:17] having spent some time cleaning up the house and tending to other chores after work.
The solution was prepared with a good milligram scale, 50mg in 5 ml of water to split between myself and my roommate, with me having the lion's share. Once the solution is drawn up and ready to be administered we split to dose and endure the come up before facing one other's company again. I personally retreat to my bedroom, dosing quickly in my bathroom. The 3 ml solution in my rectum felt like fire and the urge to defecate was almost instant, but it was resisted for ~10-15 minutes while I made my bed....
Which, by the time I was even really started I was tripping. This ROA continues to impress with the sheer speed at which things can over take me, and I found myself distracted by the play of shadows in the folds of my sheets. I was also alarmed at the realization just how confused I already was, just how intense the visuals already were, and the acute awareness of just how little actual time had passed. Somewhere I realized I had absolutely overshot my target for the evening and it was now time to settle into the paradoxical relaxation of holding on while surrendering enough to a overly intense ride! Shortly after I disappeared into the bathroom and expelled the remaining liquid, whatever of the compound remaining being lost to the rigors of the waste management system. I doubt it was of any significance.
After what felt like something between an hour and three days spent in uncomfortable agony on the toilet while occasionally dry heaving into my bucket [I estimate ~5-10 real time minutes] I finally accept nothing is coming out of me by either end and bring myself to exit the bathroom to sprawl on my bed; I attempt in vain to put music on while I pass by my computer, but I fail to actually get something playing through the visual noise that's overtaken my world... Once at my destination I proceed to give up on retaining much of anything about myself beyond the fact I'd taken an incredible amount of psychedelics. That thought I'd essentially enshrined in a reliquary for the occasional reassurance I wasn't going to die and this wouldn't be forever, as one does sometimes when their everything else is melting into the room, soft and fluffy bed first.
I could attempt to explain my visual sphere, and I'll try in the useless attempt to remember it in detail much less wrangle any meaning into the confines of language! During this come up my closed-eye world was entirely immersive, colorful and explosively fractal when it wasn't making fantastic plant life. Open was just simply too confusing to remember, it earnestly felt something like a breakthrough vaporized DMT trip... Just so, so much longer in duration. I could tell roughly what things were where through my eyes, but it'd be a lie to say I could 'see' in a meaningful manner. It was all just so noisy, with the noise readily resolving into intricate patterns borrowing the local colorscape.
I wish I could say I wasn't terrified, but I honestly was. While I was reasonably confident in my ability to survive to the part where things chilled out, parts of me were worried and barely able to communicate with the people on voice in any meaningful way, if at all leading to that particular form of solipsistic hell where you're not sure where you are in relation to reality or life itself. I was commenting on being glad I was well seasoned for someone a little less fried around the edges would probably be screaming from the frothing chaos of their thoughts while desperately wishing for the appearance of another physical person. It was of course at this moment my roommate walks in with a warm greeting, I greet her back the best I can and make a joking comment about her terribly perfect timing before making her put on music and collapse onto the bed to melt into being foam with barely a hint of ego. She makes some sort of LCL joke in reference to one of the endings of EVA, and it wasn't the worst way to relate it. I could also describe myself at this point as a "musical orgasm".
Even with the wretched timing her presence is comforting, we heap against each other and ride out the intense peak of this experience before finally regaining enough of our facilities to actually adjust sound levels and rejoin the wider digital group. My partner and friend have been having a delightfully erotic time, and we're compelled to play along at least a little in spite of the specter of my normal tripping asexuality... And we're to a great deal successful, at least for a pretty long while. Theres groping and grinding. A bit of licking and too-intense-for-her biting, much to my disappointment. We writhe and roll in hopes of meshing flesh in that perfect way and honestly find something close enough again and again. Somewhere around here we have my one and only recorded note, and I quote: "I can taste the pen on the paper??" which I can only explain as being like licking myself.
But my attention for such matters always fades, and end up talking here and there from the comfort of my own chair before diving back into the pleasures of the flesh, eventually hearing from the other partnered trip space there was a marvelous discovery for the violet wand and a mylar flogger... And I of course instantly decided I had to have it, leveraging my submissive roommate with much prodding to overcome the hedonistic hesitation the 2C-B has bred in us both. Of course, asking a pair of people tripping so hard they can hardly remember the concept of names to set up a tool as complicated as a violet wand in a hastily cleaned room is a fool's errand, but thankfully the fools on hand were up to the task! After a false start where the wand wasn't plugged in but we both absolutely insisted we were feeling something.
Other highlights of the night include exploring some realizations on why my relationships have stability issues [frequent moving and an effectively unstable timezone], realizing I should give up on motorcycling [at least on public roadways], and deciding to do a little DMT!
Well, my roommate decided to do some DMT, as we were winding down around this point [4ish hour mark] and I feel capable of running all the needed hardware from scale to torch. Carefully I weigh out ~25mg of DMT freebase, loading it into a dab rig I keep dedicated for the task with several beads and carefully torching it to temp. This is the first time I've tried to use the torch for this, and I over shot just *slightly*. My roommate takes the hit, instantly exhales, gets reminded to hold it and does it again! This time she holds it and falls back, I look to the piece, shrug, and finish it before joining her on my bed.
Here we once again weakly settle against one another, too lost in our respective worlds to talk, my closed eye world is once again a colorful space of geometry, while the open eyed space collapses to a 2D pastelscape, with the shifting RGB lights I have installed making the colors somehow jump in waves from the smoothly shifting light. The candygore dragon painting I have on my wall refuses to make any sense, being a vivid window into a world of impossible shapes and delicious colors. As we come down we share little anecdotes and cuddle, only slightly ragged by the repeated intensity.
And, as almost seems to be a theme with my better tripping nights, I found myself hypnotizing someone! It was the friend who was with my partner, and my first real interaction with them in such a way. To not spill too much detail here, while absolutely imperfect, it was still absolutely an amazing time that needed to happen!
30mg 2C-B [rectal]
~12mg DMT [vaporized]
Boring biographical: early 30s, did a fuckton of 2C-I about a decade ago, and a bunch of other shit as well, mostly of the trippy sort though I love MDMA and stimulants left to my own devices. The day before I'd taken a good deal of amphetamine to help me power through a early start for dental surgery [50mg total over the course of the day]. A small lapse in judgment on my part has me assuming this will impact my tolerance. It may have, but if it did, it did not seem to matter.
This was an impromptu trip, and my lack of prep is expressed in my lack of notes. A partner of mine with an increasingly close friend dosed some 4-HO-MIPT and were having a grand time over voice chat when I finally decided to dose. It was about 23:00 at night when we got around to things [exact T 00:00 = 23:17] having spent some time cleaning up the house and tending to other chores after work.
The solution was prepared with a good milligram scale, 50mg in 5 ml of water to split between myself and my roommate, with me having the lion's share. Once the solution is drawn up and ready to be administered we split to dose and endure the come up before facing one other's company again. I personally retreat to my bedroom, dosing quickly in my bathroom. The 3 ml solution in my rectum felt like fire and the urge to defecate was almost instant, but it was resisted for ~10-15 minutes while I made my bed....
Which, by the time I was even really started I was tripping. This ROA continues to impress with the sheer speed at which things can over take me, and I found myself distracted by the play of shadows in the folds of my sheets. I was also alarmed at the realization just how confused I already was, just how intense the visuals already were, and the acute awareness of just how little actual time had passed. Somewhere I realized I had absolutely overshot my target for the evening and it was now time to settle into the paradoxical relaxation of holding on while surrendering enough to a overly intense ride! Shortly after I disappeared into the bathroom and expelled the remaining liquid, whatever of the compound remaining being lost to the rigors of the waste management system. I doubt it was of any significance.
After what felt like something between an hour and three days spent in uncomfortable agony on the toilet while occasionally dry heaving into my bucket [I estimate ~5-10 real time minutes] I finally accept nothing is coming out of me by either end and bring myself to exit the bathroom to sprawl on my bed; I attempt in vain to put music on while I pass by my computer, but I fail to actually get something playing through the visual noise that's overtaken my world... Once at my destination I proceed to give up on retaining much of anything about myself beyond the fact I'd taken an incredible amount of psychedelics. That thought I'd essentially enshrined in a reliquary for the occasional reassurance I wasn't going to die and this wouldn't be forever, as one does sometimes when their everything else is melting into the room, soft and fluffy bed first.
I could attempt to explain my visual sphere, and I'll try in the useless attempt to remember it in detail much less wrangle any meaning into the confines of language! During this come up my closed-eye world was entirely immersive, colorful and explosively fractal when it wasn't making fantastic plant life. Open was just simply too confusing to remember, it earnestly felt something like a breakthrough vaporized DMT trip... Just so, so much longer in duration. I could tell roughly what things were where through my eyes, but it'd be a lie to say I could 'see' in a meaningful manner. It was all just so noisy, with the noise readily resolving into intricate patterns borrowing the local colorscape.
I wish I could say I wasn't terrified, but I honestly was. While I was reasonably confident in my ability to survive to the part where things chilled out, parts of me were worried and barely able to communicate with the people on voice in any meaningful way, if at all leading to that particular form of solipsistic hell where you're not sure where you are in relation to reality or life itself. I was commenting on being glad I was well seasoned for someone a little less fried around the edges would probably be screaming from the frothing chaos of their thoughts while desperately wishing for the appearance of another physical person. It was of course at this moment my roommate walks in with a warm greeting, I greet her back the best I can and make a joking comment about her terribly perfect timing before making her put on music and collapse onto the bed to melt into being foam with barely a hint of ego. She makes some sort of LCL joke in reference to one of the endings of EVA, and it wasn't the worst way to relate it. I could also describe myself at this point as a "musical orgasm".
Even with the wretched timing her presence is comforting, we heap against each other and ride out the intense peak of this experience before finally regaining enough of our facilities to actually adjust sound levels and rejoin the wider digital group. My partner and friend have been having a delightfully erotic time, and we're compelled to play along at least a little in spite of the specter of my normal tripping asexuality... And we're to a great deal successful, at least for a pretty long while. Theres groping and grinding. A bit of licking and too-intense-for-her biting, much to my disappointment. We writhe and roll in hopes of meshing flesh in that perfect way and honestly find something close enough again and again. Somewhere around here we have my one and only recorded note, and I quote: "I can taste the pen on the paper??" which I can only explain as being like licking myself.
But my attention for such matters always fades, and end up talking here and there from the comfort of my own chair before diving back into the pleasures of the flesh, eventually hearing from the other partnered trip space there was a marvelous discovery for the violet wand and a mylar flogger... And I of course instantly decided I had to have it, leveraging my submissive roommate with much prodding to overcome the hedonistic hesitation the 2C-B has bred in us both. Of course, asking a pair of people tripping so hard they can hardly remember the concept of names to set up a tool as complicated as a violet wand in a hastily cleaned room is a fool's errand, but thankfully the fools on hand were up to the task! After a false start where the wand wasn't plugged in but we both absolutely insisted we were feeling something.
Other highlights of the night include exploring some realizations on why my relationships have stability issues [frequent moving and an effectively unstable timezone], realizing I should give up on motorcycling [at least on public roadways], and deciding to do a little DMT!
Well, my roommate decided to do some DMT, as we were winding down around this point [4ish hour mark] and I feel capable of running all the needed hardware from scale to torch. Carefully I weigh out ~25mg of DMT freebase, loading it into a dab rig I keep dedicated for the task with several beads and carefully torching it to temp. This is the first time I've tried to use the torch for this, and I over shot just *slightly*. My roommate takes the hit, instantly exhales, gets reminded to hold it and does it again! This time she holds it and falls back, I look to the piece, shrug, and finish it before joining her on my bed.
Here we once again weakly settle against one another, too lost in our respective worlds to talk, my closed eye world is once again a colorful space of geometry, while the open eyed space collapses to a 2D pastelscape, with the shifting RGB lights I have installed making the colors somehow jump in waves from the smoothly shifting light. The candygore dragon painting I have on my wall refuses to make any sense, being a vivid window into a world of impossible shapes and delicious colors. As we come down we share little anecdotes and cuddle, only slightly ragged by the repeated intensity.
And, as almost seems to be a theme with my better tripping nights, I found myself hypnotizing someone! It was the friend who was with my partner, and my first real interaction with them in such a way. To not spill too much detail here, while absolutely imperfect, it was still absolutely an amazing time that needed to happen!