yardbirdrc
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jan 8, 2011
- Messages
- 160
Date: March 2, 2012
Time: 4:45PM - 10PM
Drug: 4-Aco-DMT Fumarate
Dose: 8mg
Preface
The experience that I am discussing here was not remarkable for any particular reason. The dose was low and there were no particularly exciting goings-on during our excursions that day. However, I still feel compelled to write (what ended up being more than) a few words about it as it was my first psychedelic experience in nearly 7 months. I will forewarn you that I'll preface it with a fair degree of personal information. This was more a reflection on my recent life than just the experience itself. I hope you understand - I write these things mostly for myself, but writing in a conversational tone as if I'm talking to an audience is the best way for me to do that. So I'll post it here, and if you can learn something from this that's wonderful, but if not then it will still serve its primary purpose as a journal entry. Think of this as an excerpt from PiHKAL book one, rather than book two. I'll do you the courtesy of wrapping the lengthy context in NSFW tags in case you just want to see the experience itself.
Context
Experience
We gathered for the first day of spring break. For myself, 8 measly milligrams of very pure microcrystalline 4-Aco-DMT fumarate were laid out and capsulated. For Jamie, 15mg of the same. For Asdaq, a tab of very strong, very clean Dalai Lama LSD. For Alfred, 30mg of some recently acquired 2C-B HBr. For Kyle, 30mg of 2C-B HBr and 1/2 of a Dalai Lama, dropped in unison.
We sat around chatting for the first hour, and periodically dropping pellets of hash oil and bubble hash onto a hookah coal, capturing the vapors under a drinking glass and hooting them out with a bent drinking straw. Classy. I began to feel first alerts after about an hour, and by an hour and a half everybody was tripping in earnest. My effects were largely in the body at this point. I was pleased to find that after some initial apprehension I was fairing well anxiety-wise.
Shortly after undeniable effects were felt, we all started to get antsy. A walk was planned. Earlier in the day we had constructed a large paper airplane, to be thrown from the 34th floor of a nearby building. We had done this earlier in the week with astounding success. Our first prototype cleared our campus completely and soared over a museum, a park, and clear on through to the campus of a neighboring university. We were eager to repeat this endeavor with a larger group of people, so this became our mission. We stopped at Jamie's apartment to pick up some outdoor things to do, if the occasion arose. For me, this was bizarre. Jamie's apartment is also my recently estranged girlfriend's apartment. Spying an empty pack of Camel lights I surmised "Ah, Dustin was here wasn't he?".
"No, those are Mandi's. She bought a pack of cigarettes last week, I dunno why."
The pack was empty. Eesh, hope I didn't start her down that road. It's a shitty one to be stuck on, I'll tell you that much. I was very eager to leave the apartment. I still thought about my relationship with her pretty frequently (it's only been a couple of months), and the abrupt and emotionally strained way that it ended, which I felt incredibly guilty for when I wasn't hiding that from myself. Everybody was seated, but I was standing, toe-tapping furiously. How did I land here - a home as familiar as my own but suddenly off limits to me? A bizarre place on a bizarre drug with disconcerting thoughts. No, no this was not where I wanted to be. Once Jamie had secured a preferable pair of shoes, we did the dip like a Dorito. I burst from the door, spread my arms out and pretended to be an airplane. We were on our way.
Throughout this walk we spoke philosophically. I had a conversation with Asdaq, a lifelong Muslim, about the meaning and nature of reality. I always enjoy talking to Asdaq about these sorts of things, because we have such different perspectives, but I respect him enough to really hear what he's saying. I'll be the first to admit that by default I tend to disregard the opinions and contentions of religious people. I generally don't go out of my way to berate them as some of my more argumentative peers tend to enjoy, but if you press me about religion, I'll get real dark on you. Asdaq began...
"You know, I realized that all hatred comes from ignorance. This is why education is so important. If we could do away with ignorance, we could do away with hatred, and the world would be a better place."
"Yes, but for ignorance you trade happiness in a sense. I mean ignorance is bliss right? You might be plenty happy in your ignorance and your hatred, but when you learn and gain intelligence things suddenly become more complicated. You have to consider other people, and the implications of your actions, so the intellectual crown weighs heavy."
"Wow, you're right. I never thought about it that way. It's like a trade-off, you have to find balance."
"As it is with all things, man. I guess I see the world as a dualistic reality rested upon an underlying and essential non-duality. Like, we can see this reality in front of us as a constant war of opposing forces. Good and bad, here and there, is and is not. For instance that tree is over there, and I am over here, and I am not that tree. But below all that, at the root of it, all of those things resolve to the same essential and ineffable base-state, or truth. So really, I am here, I am there, and I am that tree. The differences and distinctions we draw are illusory."
"But if everything is the same, how do we know what right and wrong are?"
"We don't. I mean... there's no such thing. There is in a legal context, and in moral contexts, but in the grand and all-encompassing essential sort of context, how could there be? It's just more layers, more abstractions. But at the root, it's all the same. It's everything and nothing simultaneously. I've been there once, on DMT." I turned to Jamie. "Do you believe in right and wrong?".
"No."
"Do you?", this time pointed at Kyle.
"Nope. Of course not..." Kyle's Philosophy major was on the brink of breaking through into the conversation, but the heady mix of ligands in his system kept him reserved. "Look at how this path is moving!" He pointed his laser pointer into the distance, wild-eyed. We stopped to look at some trees in the distance.
"Those trees... are fucking crazy." opined Alfred. Kyle was slowly waving his hands back and forth to show the motion of the landscape.
"But if there is no right and wrong, what do you think the meaning of life is?"
"There is none. At least, not one that you don't create yourself."
"Hmm. I don't know if I agree, but interesting."
"That's the idea."
We pressed on through the park, Kyle playing with his trusty green laser pointer throughout our journey. The green laser pointer was a relatively recent addition to these excursions, and an invaluable one. It constantly amazed us with it's abilities and properties. On the bridge I took hold of it and pointed it at the building that was our destination, still quite a distance away. We were amazed to see the green dot faintly appear on the side of the building. As we passed a small pond I noticed its edges waving back and forth slowly. We rested briefly.
As we finally approached the building we were intending to throw the paper airplane from, I started to feel slightly weak and confused, as if I hadn't eaten all day (although I had). Ah yes, I remember this side of the 4-subbed family. Life is a haze, life is a dream, and if you don't surrender to it then life can make you scream. I let my arms sag and went with the natural progression of the drug. Wu-wei. I knew all too well not to fight with this one.
We entered the gothic halls of the building. Visual effects were obviously more pronounced in this setting, but I wasn't getting much besides size distortion. This was all still only about 2.5 hours from the dose, at most. We entered the elevator and began our ascent to the 33rd floor, from which we would walk the stairs to 34 (a floor inaccessible by elevator). I sat down in the elevator, and looked up at my friends. The whole scene was elongated, everything was a good 10 feet above me. We reached our destination and carefully checked the floor for any unlikely occupants. The floor was to be remodeled soon, and everything had been cleared out. The walls had been drawn on by the former occupants, likely a small administrative branch of the university, as at this height in the building there was only room for a few offices. Students weren't ever up here. But there it was, the "God Bathroom", so named because the last stall contained a window that one could open and stare out of while doing one's business. Although there were 2 stalls and a urinal, the door to the whole bathroom locked. It was a prime location to smoke a cheeky cigarette, have some risky sex, or... throw a giant paper airplane out over the town.
We locked the door and groomed our paper voyager. Our last excursion had been such a success, I had high hopes for this one. We crowded into the stall, and I aimed her nose at the park. Hopefully it'd be easier to find there than it was on the neighboring college campus. One... Two... THREE! We watched in horror as a gust of wind clipped our bird's wings and sent her careening towards the ground. Laughter. Well... that's that. We hurried downstairs to try to find it, but to no avail. It must've been caught on a ledge somewhere before the ground.
Suddenly robbed of purpose, we swung a right and headed back towards my apartment. Weed and food sounded good to all parties. As we walked I fell into a groove - arms swinging, nose sucking air... life was good so long as I went with the flow and only the flow. Any time I broke focus to talk to someone or look at something I felt slightly uncomfortable. There's no arguing with shrooms and 4-Aco. They take you exactly where they want, and nowhere else.
We stopped at a CVS. Alfred wanted something to eat, and we also wanted to check for more paper airplane supplies. In CVS I started getting to the real meat of the trip visually. Warping, bright colors, the usual. We stopped at a can of smoked oysters. This concept was hilarious to me and I began examining the package's details. Alfred read a recipe from the back of the can, "Smoked Oyster Omelette". I lost my shit. We decided to head out, we weren't fit for public.
Once we returned to my apartment, the visuals and overall effect were the strongest they had been. Proper warping, colors, enhanced facial detail, and an overwhelming sense that things were "wonky". I really don't like this family of tryptamines much, moreso and moreso the more I take them. I know I've said that a lot, but it became the topic of discussion. Kyle (who was wearing my snuggie at this point, waving his laser around) was an avid shroom-lover, so I watched my tongue, but clearly stated my opinion. I feel that the major disadvantage of the mushroom-like drugs is their overwhelming sense of disorientation and uncertainty. Usually this is accompanied by a sort of deep philosophical headspace that you can't rightly get with other psychedelics, but at this dose I was just getting the almost flu-like body effects, disconcerting sinister-tinged visual distortion and none of the insight. I value the shroom state soley for that deep insight, which I only really feel necessary for myself every once in a blue moon. The frantic inspiration of LSD and the all-encompassing love of Mescaline are much more my speed, generally speaking.
My cohorts shared some more hash dabs. This sent Jamie into an overwhelming state. He was on nearly twice the dose I was, and had just blasted his face with high quality cannabinoids. Meanwhile I was being made consistently uncomfortable by the last waves of body bends and visuals. A glass was knocked over. I swept it up, and brought it out to the trash while Jamie got some fresh air. I was pretty much down by this point.
Robin had expressed interest in trying psychedelics, having quite a few friends who were into them, and now a boyfriend to boot. She wanted to start with shrooms, because they were "natural" and most people start with them. After this experience, I won't be letting that happen. No, not this urban shaman. If she wants natural, she'll meet my good friend Mescalito. Mushrooms (and their synthetic cousins) are an experienced psychonaut's drug. It blows my mind how many young kids take them casually as a first psychedelic. I guess, as they say, YMMV.
Alright, break open the fucking tequila.
Epilogue
Daylight. I was seated across from Kyle, as I often was found to be. A cigarette burned in my right hand as I looked across its lingering wisps with an inquisitive smile. We both had that next-day sense of accomplishment. The integration had begun.
"How was your experience yesterday? I'm really eager to hear how the two of them interact when you stack the peaks like that." I was speaking of the 2C-B/LSD combo.
"It was very good. Very intense. I think just slightly below the intensity of 2 Dalai Lamas. I tried to describe the visual effects yesterday but I don't think I was fully equipped. The 2C-B was predominant, largely. The acid was there too, though... it was very insightful. I got a lot of 'work' done, you could say. I'm not sure I want to be a lawyer anymore. I have enjoyed my philosophy and law classes immensely... but the natural sciences... I loved them so much when I was a kid. I don't know what happened. I guess I'm just afraid of getting stuck."
His concerns paralleled my own. They paralleled a lot of ours. "Stuck". College is almost a requirement in our society at this point. And for what? A career? How did we get here? If you were tied across some train tracks, it'd no doubt be horrifying. Well, I guess I'd rather be the person about to die than the train itself, knowing only its tracks. I remembered how Robin had mentioned a certain je ne sais quoi about people who use psychedelics that makes them easy to identify, and unites them. Perhaps that was it. Despite my psychedelic hiatus, that desire to keep myself on my toes isn't going anywhere. I'm back. The world is my can of smoked oysters.
Time: 4:45PM - 10PM
Drug: 4-Aco-DMT Fumarate
Dose: 8mg
Preface
The experience that I am discussing here was not remarkable for any particular reason. The dose was low and there were no particularly exciting goings-on during our excursions that day. However, I still feel compelled to write (what ended up being more than) a few words about it as it was my first psychedelic experience in nearly 7 months. I will forewarn you that I'll preface it with a fair degree of personal information. This was more a reflection on my recent life than just the experience itself. I hope you understand - I write these things mostly for myself, but writing in a conversational tone as if I'm talking to an audience is the best way for me to do that. So I'll post it here, and if you can learn something from this that's wonderful, but if not then it will still serve its primary purpose as a journal entry. Think of this as an excerpt from PiHKAL book one, rather than book two. I'll do you the courtesy of wrapping the lengthy context in NSFW tags in case you just want to see the experience itself.
Context
NSFW:
Experience
We gathered for the first day of spring break. For myself, 8 measly milligrams of very pure microcrystalline 4-Aco-DMT fumarate were laid out and capsulated. For Jamie, 15mg of the same. For Asdaq, a tab of very strong, very clean Dalai Lama LSD. For Alfred, 30mg of some recently acquired 2C-B HBr. For Kyle, 30mg of 2C-B HBr and 1/2 of a Dalai Lama, dropped in unison.
We sat around chatting for the first hour, and periodically dropping pellets of hash oil and bubble hash onto a hookah coal, capturing the vapors under a drinking glass and hooting them out with a bent drinking straw. Classy. I began to feel first alerts after about an hour, and by an hour and a half everybody was tripping in earnest. My effects were largely in the body at this point. I was pleased to find that after some initial apprehension I was fairing well anxiety-wise.
Shortly after undeniable effects were felt, we all started to get antsy. A walk was planned. Earlier in the day we had constructed a large paper airplane, to be thrown from the 34th floor of a nearby building. We had done this earlier in the week with astounding success. Our first prototype cleared our campus completely and soared over a museum, a park, and clear on through to the campus of a neighboring university. We were eager to repeat this endeavor with a larger group of people, so this became our mission. We stopped at Jamie's apartment to pick up some outdoor things to do, if the occasion arose. For me, this was bizarre. Jamie's apartment is also my recently estranged girlfriend's apartment. Spying an empty pack of Camel lights I surmised "Ah, Dustin was here wasn't he?".
"No, those are Mandi's. She bought a pack of cigarettes last week, I dunno why."
The pack was empty. Eesh, hope I didn't start her down that road. It's a shitty one to be stuck on, I'll tell you that much. I was very eager to leave the apartment. I still thought about my relationship with her pretty frequently (it's only been a couple of months), and the abrupt and emotionally strained way that it ended, which I felt incredibly guilty for when I wasn't hiding that from myself. Everybody was seated, but I was standing, toe-tapping furiously. How did I land here - a home as familiar as my own but suddenly off limits to me? A bizarre place on a bizarre drug with disconcerting thoughts. No, no this was not where I wanted to be. Once Jamie had secured a preferable pair of shoes, we did the dip like a Dorito. I burst from the door, spread my arms out and pretended to be an airplane. We were on our way.
Throughout this walk we spoke philosophically. I had a conversation with Asdaq, a lifelong Muslim, about the meaning and nature of reality. I always enjoy talking to Asdaq about these sorts of things, because we have such different perspectives, but I respect him enough to really hear what he's saying. I'll be the first to admit that by default I tend to disregard the opinions and contentions of religious people. I generally don't go out of my way to berate them as some of my more argumentative peers tend to enjoy, but if you press me about religion, I'll get real dark on you. Asdaq began...
"You know, I realized that all hatred comes from ignorance. This is why education is so important. If we could do away with ignorance, we could do away with hatred, and the world would be a better place."
"Yes, but for ignorance you trade happiness in a sense. I mean ignorance is bliss right? You might be plenty happy in your ignorance and your hatred, but when you learn and gain intelligence things suddenly become more complicated. You have to consider other people, and the implications of your actions, so the intellectual crown weighs heavy."
"Wow, you're right. I never thought about it that way. It's like a trade-off, you have to find balance."
"As it is with all things, man. I guess I see the world as a dualistic reality rested upon an underlying and essential non-duality. Like, we can see this reality in front of us as a constant war of opposing forces. Good and bad, here and there, is and is not. For instance that tree is over there, and I am over here, and I am not that tree. But below all that, at the root of it, all of those things resolve to the same essential and ineffable base-state, or truth. So really, I am here, I am there, and I am that tree. The differences and distinctions we draw are illusory."
"But if everything is the same, how do we know what right and wrong are?"
"We don't. I mean... there's no such thing. There is in a legal context, and in moral contexts, but in the grand and all-encompassing essential sort of context, how could there be? It's just more layers, more abstractions. But at the root, it's all the same. It's everything and nothing simultaneously. I've been there once, on DMT." I turned to Jamie. "Do you believe in right and wrong?".
"No."
"Do you?", this time pointed at Kyle.
"Nope. Of course not..." Kyle's Philosophy major was on the brink of breaking through into the conversation, but the heady mix of ligands in his system kept him reserved. "Look at how this path is moving!" He pointed his laser pointer into the distance, wild-eyed. We stopped to look at some trees in the distance.
"Those trees... are fucking crazy." opined Alfred. Kyle was slowly waving his hands back and forth to show the motion of the landscape.
"But if there is no right and wrong, what do you think the meaning of life is?"
"There is none. At least, not one that you don't create yourself."
"Hmm. I don't know if I agree, but interesting."
"That's the idea."
We pressed on through the park, Kyle playing with his trusty green laser pointer throughout our journey. The green laser pointer was a relatively recent addition to these excursions, and an invaluable one. It constantly amazed us with it's abilities and properties. On the bridge I took hold of it and pointed it at the building that was our destination, still quite a distance away. We were amazed to see the green dot faintly appear on the side of the building. As we passed a small pond I noticed its edges waving back and forth slowly. We rested briefly.
As we finally approached the building we were intending to throw the paper airplane from, I started to feel slightly weak and confused, as if I hadn't eaten all day (although I had). Ah yes, I remember this side of the 4-subbed family. Life is a haze, life is a dream, and if you don't surrender to it then life can make you scream. I let my arms sag and went with the natural progression of the drug. Wu-wei. I knew all too well not to fight with this one.
We entered the gothic halls of the building. Visual effects were obviously more pronounced in this setting, but I wasn't getting much besides size distortion. This was all still only about 2.5 hours from the dose, at most. We entered the elevator and began our ascent to the 33rd floor, from which we would walk the stairs to 34 (a floor inaccessible by elevator). I sat down in the elevator, and looked up at my friends. The whole scene was elongated, everything was a good 10 feet above me. We reached our destination and carefully checked the floor for any unlikely occupants. The floor was to be remodeled soon, and everything had been cleared out. The walls had been drawn on by the former occupants, likely a small administrative branch of the university, as at this height in the building there was only room for a few offices. Students weren't ever up here. But there it was, the "God Bathroom", so named because the last stall contained a window that one could open and stare out of while doing one's business. Although there were 2 stalls and a urinal, the door to the whole bathroom locked. It was a prime location to smoke a cheeky cigarette, have some risky sex, or... throw a giant paper airplane out over the town.
We locked the door and groomed our paper voyager. Our last excursion had been such a success, I had high hopes for this one. We crowded into the stall, and I aimed her nose at the park. Hopefully it'd be easier to find there than it was on the neighboring college campus. One... Two... THREE! We watched in horror as a gust of wind clipped our bird's wings and sent her careening towards the ground. Laughter. Well... that's that. We hurried downstairs to try to find it, but to no avail. It must've been caught on a ledge somewhere before the ground.
Suddenly robbed of purpose, we swung a right and headed back towards my apartment. Weed and food sounded good to all parties. As we walked I fell into a groove - arms swinging, nose sucking air... life was good so long as I went with the flow and only the flow. Any time I broke focus to talk to someone or look at something I felt slightly uncomfortable. There's no arguing with shrooms and 4-Aco. They take you exactly where they want, and nowhere else.
We stopped at a CVS. Alfred wanted something to eat, and we also wanted to check for more paper airplane supplies. In CVS I started getting to the real meat of the trip visually. Warping, bright colors, the usual. We stopped at a can of smoked oysters. This concept was hilarious to me and I began examining the package's details. Alfred read a recipe from the back of the can, "Smoked Oyster Omelette". I lost my shit. We decided to head out, we weren't fit for public.
Once we returned to my apartment, the visuals and overall effect were the strongest they had been. Proper warping, colors, enhanced facial detail, and an overwhelming sense that things were "wonky". I really don't like this family of tryptamines much, moreso and moreso the more I take them. I know I've said that a lot, but it became the topic of discussion. Kyle (who was wearing my snuggie at this point, waving his laser around) was an avid shroom-lover, so I watched my tongue, but clearly stated my opinion. I feel that the major disadvantage of the mushroom-like drugs is their overwhelming sense of disorientation and uncertainty. Usually this is accompanied by a sort of deep philosophical headspace that you can't rightly get with other psychedelics, but at this dose I was just getting the almost flu-like body effects, disconcerting sinister-tinged visual distortion and none of the insight. I value the shroom state soley for that deep insight, which I only really feel necessary for myself every once in a blue moon. The frantic inspiration of LSD and the all-encompassing love of Mescaline are much more my speed, generally speaking.
My cohorts shared some more hash dabs. This sent Jamie into an overwhelming state. He was on nearly twice the dose I was, and had just blasted his face with high quality cannabinoids. Meanwhile I was being made consistently uncomfortable by the last waves of body bends and visuals. A glass was knocked over. I swept it up, and brought it out to the trash while Jamie got some fresh air. I was pretty much down by this point.
Robin had expressed interest in trying psychedelics, having quite a few friends who were into them, and now a boyfriend to boot. She wanted to start with shrooms, because they were "natural" and most people start with them. After this experience, I won't be letting that happen. No, not this urban shaman. If she wants natural, she'll meet my good friend Mescalito. Mushrooms (and their synthetic cousins) are an experienced psychonaut's drug. It blows my mind how many young kids take them casually as a first psychedelic. I guess, as they say, YMMV.
Alright, break open the fucking tequila.
Epilogue
Daylight. I was seated across from Kyle, as I often was found to be. A cigarette burned in my right hand as I looked across its lingering wisps with an inquisitive smile. We both had that next-day sense of accomplishment. The integration had begun.
"How was your experience yesterday? I'm really eager to hear how the two of them interact when you stack the peaks like that." I was speaking of the 2C-B/LSD combo.
"It was very good. Very intense. I think just slightly below the intensity of 2 Dalai Lamas. I tried to describe the visual effects yesterday but I don't think I was fully equipped. The 2C-B was predominant, largely. The acid was there too, though... it was very insightful. I got a lot of 'work' done, you could say. I'm not sure I want to be a lawyer anymore. I have enjoyed my philosophy and law classes immensely... but the natural sciences... I loved them so much when I was a kid. I don't know what happened. I guess I'm just afraid of getting stuck."
His concerns paralleled my own. They paralleled a lot of ours. "Stuck". College is almost a requirement in our society at this point. And for what? A career? How did we get here? If you were tied across some train tracks, it'd no doubt be horrifying. Well, I guess I'd rather be the person about to die than the train itself, knowing only its tracks. I remembered how Robin had mentioned a certain je ne sais quoi about people who use psychedelics that makes them easy to identify, and unites them. Perhaps that was it. Despite my psychedelic hiatus, that desire to keep myself on my toes isn't going anywhere. I'm back. The world is my can of smoked oysters.
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