theghostofbillhicks
Bluelighter
Amt- 66mg, nitrous, champagne, weed then Zopiclone. Tres experienced.
It was a regular Friday night. An arduous week with both my girlfriend and I having to deal with tortuous and pernickety problems. So, when the weekend rolled around, it seemed time to celebrate.
aMT pellets are, to my mind, easier to deal with than the powder because it doesn't make you want to gag. An hour after popping 66mg of the pills each, my lady and I relaxed with the electronic roar of animal collective and panda bear beating out around the walls, all ocean and trippy harmonies spinning out.
The first alert was a kind of restlessness, a flow and charge, which left me a bit antsy. I smoked a joint then wrapped myself in a woollen blanket and settled into the sofa, watching the computer visualizer. Over the course of the next thirty minutes, three things happen. The simulation and inward expanse accelerate dramatically, with the visualizer becoming too much. Next, I felt I wasn't able to keep my eyes open; my consciousness kept washing beneath the warm psychedelic waters, sinking beneath the golden flow, gently under. Finally, energy and patterns built up within me to warp to such an extent that I began to leer with lip curling nausea. I'd rather have nails ripped off than feel all dizzy like this, but I went with it, deep breathing. Until my pulse beat all fluttery up my clenching neck and legs got up and walked me into the toilet.
Vomiting on Amt is more like MDMA vomit than booze vomit. Essentially it feels cathartic to do it and afterwards youre basically okay, for a while. The knot of nausea loosened and became taught once more for yet another hour. The final platea though, was utterly lovely and relaxing. We chilled under more music, atlas sounds now, just perfect. Eventually our minds settled enough to watch a film: 2001 a space odyssey. This was ideal cinema and enchanted us.
Afterwards we puffed nitrous into our blown brains, thinning out the colours and loops shaking conga lines, snaking wild and agape through reverse traction tram lines. Looping, sound first, back into reality, vision caught up with sound and we tracked back in. Hippy crack.
The rush of the nitrous reminded me I had some mephedrone sent to me mistakenly, recently, with a legit order. I've had my lessons with meoh before. 2 day binges, manic, twitchy conversations wearing a bloodied vest and boots and nothing else in the gloaming of the living room, 5am, smoking aggressively into the unspeakable comedown yawning open before me. Never again I insisted for years, but there I was, snuffling it up again.
I came up and felt palpitations, my soul lurching sickenigly down, beyond my vision. Tracking visual objects felt unbearably heavy and I kept losing focus of vision. Soon, the awful inward collapse into utter nausea was on me again, and I chundered horrifically into the toilet water. Acetyic acid wafting up warm into the darkness. Thank god for mouthwash.
Idiotically, I tried the meph again and woomph, as if an egg yolk was rising up my throat the wrong way while my brain span out. Not fun and it felt dangerous. See, although I don't imagine this was good for me, we still broke open some champagne, downed 15mg Zopiclone and slipped under the great stream for twelve hours.
Woke up Saturday, 2pm and bummed about in bed. 11pm and feel basically normal, maybe a bit exhausted. Probably wouldn't Reccomend amt and mephedrone at all but amt was lovely, if you can handle the nausea. I feel 66mg probably too high for me though. Be safe!
It was a regular Friday night. An arduous week with both my girlfriend and I having to deal with tortuous and pernickety problems. So, when the weekend rolled around, it seemed time to celebrate.
aMT pellets are, to my mind, easier to deal with than the powder because it doesn't make you want to gag. An hour after popping 66mg of the pills each, my lady and I relaxed with the electronic roar of animal collective and panda bear beating out around the walls, all ocean and trippy harmonies spinning out.
The first alert was a kind of restlessness, a flow and charge, which left me a bit antsy. I smoked a joint then wrapped myself in a woollen blanket and settled into the sofa, watching the computer visualizer. Over the course of the next thirty minutes, three things happen. The simulation and inward expanse accelerate dramatically, with the visualizer becoming too much. Next, I felt I wasn't able to keep my eyes open; my consciousness kept washing beneath the warm psychedelic waters, sinking beneath the golden flow, gently under. Finally, energy and patterns built up within me to warp to such an extent that I began to leer with lip curling nausea. I'd rather have nails ripped off than feel all dizzy like this, but I went with it, deep breathing. Until my pulse beat all fluttery up my clenching neck and legs got up and walked me into the toilet.
Vomiting on Amt is more like MDMA vomit than booze vomit. Essentially it feels cathartic to do it and afterwards youre basically okay, for a while. The knot of nausea loosened and became taught once more for yet another hour. The final platea though, was utterly lovely and relaxing. We chilled under more music, atlas sounds now, just perfect. Eventually our minds settled enough to watch a film: 2001 a space odyssey. This was ideal cinema and enchanted us.
Afterwards we puffed nitrous into our blown brains, thinning out the colours and loops shaking conga lines, snaking wild and agape through reverse traction tram lines. Looping, sound first, back into reality, vision caught up with sound and we tracked back in. Hippy crack.
The rush of the nitrous reminded me I had some mephedrone sent to me mistakenly, recently, with a legit order. I've had my lessons with meoh before. 2 day binges, manic, twitchy conversations wearing a bloodied vest and boots and nothing else in the gloaming of the living room, 5am, smoking aggressively into the unspeakable comedown yawning open before me. Never again I insisted for years, but there I was, snuffling it up again.
I came up and felt palpitations, my soul lurching sickenigly down, beyond my vision. Tracking visual objects felt unbearably heavy and I kept losing focus of vision. Soon, the awful inward collapse into utter nausea was on me again, and I chundered horrifically into the toilet water. Acetyic acid wafting up warm into the darkness. Thank god for mouthwash.
Idiotically, I tried the meph again and woomph, as if an egg yolk was rising up my throat the wrong way while my brain span out. Not fun and it felt dangerous. See, although I don't imagine this was good for me, we still broke open some champagne, downed 15mg Zopiclone and slipped under the great stream for twelve hours.
Woke up Saturday, 2pm and bummed about in bed. 11pm and feel basically normal, maybe a bit exhausted. Probably wouldn't Reccomend amt and mephedrone at all but amt was lovely, if you can handle the nausea. I feel 66mg probably too high for me though. Be safe!
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