Bradshaw2727
Bluelighter
Continuation of Homeless in Japan with a FUCKLOAD of Drugs. Day 3. 2-CC & Methylone.
Day 4 - Methylone, 14B, 5-MeO-DMT
For the remainder of the week, I developed a more steady routine and learned to make do with what I had. At night, I would be playing in Roppongi-clubbing, exploring, talking with Taka, and studying the drug scene. By day, I would go to the public baths to shower, and then it was off to the trains to nap. Every couple days I stopped by my dad's house whenever I ran out of clean clothes to wear.
After bathing, I stopped at an internet café to pass the time and give friends an update of my whereabouts. I received a message from a user of this site I frequent, stating that he was coincidentally in Japan the same week I was for business (weird, that's the second time that's happened to me this summer) and asked me if I could show him what's happening in Tokyo. I figured since I was alone so far for my entire trip, it would be nice to have somebody around, and consented. I told him the location of Taka's shop in Roppongi, and informed him I would be there from 10PM, every night. That was my usual hang-out spot.
Oddly enough, my memory was shot; I only vaguely remember the events of last night. I wondered if it was due to daily drug use or lack of proper sleep, or a result of both. I remember taking 100mg and not feeling anything too intense, but remembering how much fun the core kids were having on it ignited a desire to give M-rone another chance. Taka gave me a discount on a 200mg package of methylone and an 18mL vial of 14Butanediol I bought.
(1,4B also referred to as "Gamma" in Japan)
All my friends advised me to stay away from 14B (which converts to GHB in the stomach), because it is about 10 times more toxic than actual GHB. According to records, some people were able to trip off as little as 2mL of liquid, and some ended up passing out at 8mL. Almost all the 14B trip reports on Erowid implied a negative reaction or total blackout, therefore I had an idea of how potent a chemical it was. Despite this, I was still determined to try it, so long as I was not reckless with it. I consumed roughly 3mL and conversed with Taka while waiting for effects to kick in.
"I want to take DPT in a graveyard or an old temple at night," I smirked at the idea. "Scare the shit out of myself."
Taka stated an obvious, "You're weird. Your chemistry and way of thinking is totally opposite from normal human beings, you know that?"
A middle aged Japanese man with a stern face came to inquire about any new products. He was wearing casual clothing and seemed in a bit of a hurry. He briskly walked out of sight after buying 30mg of 2-C-T-7 and 100mg 4-Ho-DiPT. I saw that Taka was not as talkative or responsive towards him as he was with his other usual customers, but I did not think anything of it.
As soon as that customer was out of earshot, Taka expressed, "I'm always wary to sell that guy. He ate an entire 100mg of 2-CE not too long ago."
"What! He lived?!??!?" I remembered how bad the body load was on a 20-something mg dose, I couldn't imagine anything above and beyond that. "But WHY?"
"He's the type that takes drugs to escape. Probably suicidal," Taka concluded. There was a gloomy undertone attached to his voice.
This got me fascinated by the diversity of the people that came to the shop everyday. I wondered how the customers differed by region or culture, and what customers Taka himself preferred. I initiated a question regarding the types of folk he dealt with everyday.
"The stereotypical image with drugs is that only a younger, rebellious crowd uses them. Many young teens do come here to buy these products, but that is not always the case," Taka reflected. "I get a wide variety of people… Idiots, geniuses, mafia members, wealthy businessmen, college students, foreigners, you name it. Some use it for social or party purposes, some use it out of boredom, some use it to enhance their sex lives, and some use it for self-exploration and spiritual study. It's pretty intriguing how greatly everybody's motives for using vary."
"Do you get any special customers-clients that stand out from the rest?"
"I normally forget most people that come by, especially since most are tourists on vacation," Taka confessed. "But there is the occasional person that has that unique spark about them, and I definitely think about them from time to time. Like Angel for example, even though he is a regular, there is no way you can forget a figure that insane... And then there was you. When I saw you lying on the ground after you took that 2-CE, I knew I would never forget your face."
A large crowd of noisy drunkards stumbled by, screaming all sorts of gibberish to each other and drawing attention to themselves.
Taka finished his sentence, "...But Roppongi is mostly full of dumbasses. Drunk, stupid people... Trannies too. Lots and lots of trannies."
I snickered, because I knew he was right; this place was FULL of gays and trannies. I turned my head to the direction he was looking and saw what he was seeing--a tall man dressed in leather BDSM gear, who went by the alias "Hard Gay." The drunken crowd stopped to take some explicit pictures with him, and Taka was able to sneak one in with his camera phone.
(The man that I aspire to be, hahahah)
"That guy's really famous around these parts," Taka giggled with glee. "He's hilarious too, last time he walked by he spanked his ass and blew me a kiss."
This sort of "freak show" was an everyday occurrence, and at first I may have suffered a bit of culture shock, but I learned to quickly accept it as normal custom. That was another thing I absolutely adored about Tokyo: True sexual openness and acceptance.
I glanced at my watch. An hour and a half had passed by, and I did not feel as if I were under the influence of anything at all.
"That's strange, it usually takes a half hour," Taka mentioned, "Maybe an hour, tops. Try drinking a little more, average dose is 5-6mL."
I measured out another 5mL and re-dosed. As I was doing so, a short Asian guy approached the counter and asked if I was Mistress K. I knew then this was the person that had messaged me earlier, and he politely introduced himself as Bobby. He did not speak Japanese, so I had to introduce him to Taka and translate each other's words. After we got comfortable enough with each other, he focused his attention towards the products being sold.
"What do you recommend?" he directed towards me. "I'll do whatever you think is good."
I asked him to summarize his history with drugs, what his favorites were, whether he liked visuals, and so forth. He dabbed with a few things once or twice, but his #1 choice was ecstasy. Without a second thought, I pointed to the 200mg methylone powder and let him know it was 3000yen. He subtlety inched closer to Taka in a sneaky fashion and tried to hide the money in his fist, as if shady business were being conducted.
Taka and I both laughed out loud. "You don't have to do that here...this is all legal, so you can do it out in the open."
"I think it's really cute when tourists do that," Taka commented. "But it makes me look damn suspicious! And then bystanders think I AM doing something illegal."
I flashed back to the first time I bought a research chemical in Tokyo ever off Taka, before I even knew him. I remembered being so paranoid, I was looking around in every which direction for cops and went as far as having suspicions about Taka himself being a D (now that's REAL paranoia, haha). Like Bobby, I too tried to carry out the monetary exchange secretively.
"So what clubs are good around here?" Bobby spoke, snapping my attention away from my imagination. "I'm more of a trance or house guy."
"Gaspanic and Velfarre are some pretty big ones. If you're looking for atmosphere, then Hideout is fun. I was thinking about going there pretty soon," I named, and then offered to take him if he wanted to come along.
He agreed, but regretfully informed he had to get back home fairly early because of work the next morning. It was still only midnight, so I told Taka I was going to unwind with some M-rone, and he could expect me back in a couple hours, before sunrise.
I was impressed with tonight's atmosphere in the club; it was busy, crowded, and full of vigor. We both took our methylones in the club, and I snorted about 3/4 of mine in the bathroom. It had a smooth texture going up my nostril, with almost no stinging or burning sensation. It also had a clean, pure chemical smell to it; not harsh in the slightest. It had been at least 2 months since I snorted any substance, so until then it didn't occur to me just how much I missed doing it. I got phantom highs of other drugs I snorted, and chills quivered down my back.
(The bartender at Hideout doing a neat trick)
I ran into Mitsutaka and Methylone Junkie again, and they of course were on nothing other than more methylone.
"Did you guys even leave the club since last night?!" I shrieked.
"We had to. The club closes at noon," Mitsutaka bopped his head to the music.
I looked at M-Rone Junkie, who was leaned back contentedly in a chair, head hanging down like a ragdoll. "Is he okay?"
"He's feeling too good to move. He's been like that all day I swear," Mitsutaka criticized half-heartedly. "If he doesn't snap out of it soon I'm going to have to send his ass to rehab. For methylone, goddammit!"
About 30 minutes had passed and I was feeling nothing-meanwhile, Bobby on the other hand was feeling ecstatic, exclaiming that it was similar to E. I started getting paranoid about my body; What if I fried my brain so much that this was the reason I couldn't get high? I grew damn impatient by the late onset, so I ate the rest of the methylone I was carrying.
About 15 minutes later, the changes I monitored were increased "oomph" and desire to apply that pent-up energy. However, there were no empathogenic qualities or real exhilarating physical effects; just an urge to dance. It was a simple clean, speedy feeling. I consider that methylone may have cross tolerance with methamphetamine, as that would certainly explain a lot.
(Despite this, why does it look like I am obviously peaking damn hard in this picture? M-Rone Junkie was absent, aka too methyloned out to pose for a picture.)
I was rather disappointed with the turn-out of events, but this didn't stop me from entertaining the people around so that they could enjoy the night. Based on past experiences, I knew that deep down the trick was mind over matter. I reclined next to Methylone Junkie, and we both closed our eyes letting the dips and breaks of the music flow through us. Luckily, the DJ's set that night was excellent. When a melody reached the pinnacle of its phrase, a full-on roll was induced from my body.
I fully admit that one of the reasons I love Hideout is because usually you'll find a group of cute club guys dancing on the tables. I was in a trance watching them take turns jumping around with no fear, interacting with everybody else and getting them hyped up. One of the first things that came to mind was how differently people dance compared to back home; here, they actually get really into the music and thrash their entire body around with heart. It's a very pure, innocent style of enjoyment, with no holds barred.
I become fully aware of just how sleazy American clubs are, particularly the more popular ones where hip hop or mainstream music is played. Nobody enjoys REAL dancing at those types of clubs; it's more like shaking your ass to impress others or finding slimy fucks to freak with in hopes of hooking up later. Nobody in Tokyo sneaks from behind me and starts grinding their crotch in my leg, either. They respect my space, and I grew to appreciate that.
I'm beginning to like the chic, rock star look a lot of these core guys sport. It's a more gorgeous, dramatic look, drastically different from fashion back home. We don't have guys like that back in California.
(This is the sort of style I am describing. It's freaky, eh? One thing I will NEVER get over is that hair!!!)
A clubber with a golden, poofy hairdo grooving on the tables shot me a smile, and I waved back at him. After his turn up on stage he approached me in a friendly fashion and introduced himself. It was difficult hearing with all the blasting club noise, so I couldn't catch his name.
"Kawaii ne!" he praised. (You're cute!)
I was flattered, but couldn't find much to talk about. Though I'm fairly fluent in Japanese, I was afraid I might lack the verbal skills to engage in deeper conversation, and suddenly got shy. The conversation ended abruptly there.
It seemed as if time was sped up on the methylone, because before I knew it, it was 3A.M. and Bobby announced that he had to leave soon. The 14B did not produce any effect on me whatsoever. I was rather let down by the anticlimactic outcome, and brainstormed on what I could do to make up for it.
I proposed to Bobby, "You wanna smoke some 5-MeO?"
"I don't know what that is," Bobby hesitated. "But okay."
And just like that, we left the club headed back to Taka's shop. Taka was bewildered when I demanded 100mg of 5-MeO-DMT. It was a split-second decision and I was determined to go through with it. He knew it was the RC I had the most interest in, but I was too scared to try it-not of the experience, but of my heart, which was still recovering.
"Why now, all of a sudden? What changed your mind?" Taka was full of questions. "Are you SURE you want to do this? It might be a little scary... What if it's too much for your heart?"
I expressed that my 14B unfortunately never kicked in, and I would rate the methylone slightly below mediocre. "It should have worked better, I mean I snorted most of it…"
Taka gave a suggestion. "People say that M-rone works best orally. Even better rectal or intranasal administration, I hear."
I recalled not feeling a climb in the peak until I orally consumed the rest of the methylone, and thought that he may be right. Perhaps the methylone metabolized differently in the stomach, or it interacted with the 14B somehow. I showed Taka how much 14B I drank and a look of shock appeared on his face.
"That's quite a bit… You aren't feeling anything at all? I've never seen anything like that before..." He also clarified that people with a high alcohol tolerance also experience cross-tolerance with 14B. I used to drink everyday, but lately I haven't touched alcohol at all, so I carefully analyzed this possibility.
Taka randomly suggested that I smoke the 5-MeO-DMT in the middle of the street.
"Hey!" I accused indignantly. "I thought you didn't want me to snort TMA-2 around your store cause it will make you look bad!"
"It's true. But I'd take the risk to see you on 5-MeO-DMT scared shitless," Taka backed up his reasoning. "BUT-I saw a few cops walking around, and if they hassle you, I'm going to pretend I don't know you, okay?"
"You're so mean!" I cried, and we both laughed.
I read enough up on 5-MeO-DMT to know that it wouldn't be a good idea to do in a noisy, public area. Bobby and I went halfway on the product and then made a stop at Freak Brothers, an overpriced headshop and bought the cheapest pipe there and bid farewell to Taka before leaving.
"Text me after you do it," Taka waved goodbye.
Bobby's hotel was within walking distance and I was welcomed in. He played some progressive trance on his laptop while I placed tiny 3mg specks in the pipe. We smoked and immediately experienced something pleasurable in the body with mild visuals, and felt safe upping the dose. I put in 5-6mg and instructed him to inhale slowly and hold the smoke in your lungs as long as possible. He had his eyes closed and remained unresponsive. I took the pipe from his fingers and paused to engross myself in the utter dementia of the whole situation. I am about to smoke 5-MeO-DMT with somebody I just met overseas the same fucking night I met him!
I kept my eyes open as all the colors in the room shone with the glow of a digital rainbow. Light transformed into multidimensional ripples; we were underneath the pond of a midnight summer's dream. I felt myself slipping away into another dimension, but I was still not up as far out in the universe as I wanted to be. I put in 10 more mg and smoked it again.
While most people envision the ends of the universe or the resurrection of a divine spirit, all I could think about was how bomb this would be to use as a love drug. Just imagining being touched sexually induced a sharp, exhilarating feeling from the inner walls of my chest and expanded the sensation outward. I sensed even the slightest movement in the room sensually, as if I were riding the waves of internal pleasure. I was amazed at how sexually in touch I was with myself.
My libido was parallel to the trip's intensity; it increased directly at the peak, and then gradually diminished as the trip wore off. By nature, I am a compulsive orgasm addict, so my first instinct was to grab the pipe again and smoke some more. And more. And more. And then some.
In between trips, I sent Taka a short and simple text: "I LOVE THIS DRUG!"
I understand DMT tolerance takes at least a couple hours to fully wear off, but I was so stuck on achieving blissful climax that I was too impatient to wait. I smoked that thing like fucking crack, so much that Bobby nervously suggested that perhaps it would be in best interest to put the pipe down for a bit. I kept telling him that it would be my last one, only to reach for it again several minutes later. I started to get cranky and extremely irritable on the comedown, all within the span of an hour! I pondered that perhaps one reason I fiended for it was maybe a cause of past psychological issues with smoking out of a meth pipe. There was one point where I felt as if I couldn't even live without 5-MeO-DMT. I must be the only person to have actually developed a dependency to 5-MeO. Then again, I must also be the only freak out there that would dream of using this as a sexual enhancer.
I noticed myself acting like a real asshole-it wasn't intentional, it was a natural after-effect of too much 5-MeO. I suppose this means I technically suffered from 5-MeO-DMT withdrawal (hahaha!). It was like the worst case of blue balls in history-the belligerent King Meth comedown of all comedowns-the kind you would only get after binging for 40 days and 40 nights. For example, whenever Bobby cracked a joke or made a comment, I would ignore it and just give him a defiant stare. Luckily, I was able to refrain from making a rude comment.
I tried my best to display a positive vibe, but gloomy, sadistic thoughts permeated my thought process. I could feel the negative presence omitting from me and I felt bad for Bobby. I selected to leave before Bobby began resenting me.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling well. I'm going to have to go rest… I feel a little sick, maybe too much partying… I'm really sorry I have to leave so early," I apologized and excused myself. I didn't want any hard feelings, so as I got up to leave I promised, "I'll make it up to you. Let's go party at Velfarre this weekend, yeah?"
Bobby did not seem upset in the least, and cheerfully said he was willing, but it would have to be Sunday night because he had work until then.
It was still 4:30AM when I exited his hotel, so I revisited Taka in hopes of telling him all about my trip. It was a timely coincidence, because Jesus Christ (aka Sensei, from Day 2's trip) was there, chatting up another intellectual storm I'm sure. I told them all about my 5-MeO-DMT trip and they were both in a frenzy of laughter. Neither of them could accept my appeal to use it as a love drug.
"Are you kidding?" Sensei was amused. "Aren't most people scared shitless of this one?"
Taka started half-kidding around. "Even the core druggies who love it take it very seriously. Only somebody as messed up in the head as her would want to use it for that purpose."
Needless to say, I couldn't disagree.
"Does she remind you of anybody you know?" Taka nudged.
Sensei laughed without a moment's delay, "Angel!"
I'm not really quite sure if that was a compliment or insult, considering this was the guy who resorted to tripping off random (not to mention potentially deadly) household products in case of a lack-of-sufficient-drug emergency. I gracefully accepted it as a compliment anyway, figuring at the least, it meant that I was ballsy.
"I introduced her to Angel yesterday," Taka looked directly at Sensei. "Their lifestyle and way of thinking is too alike, I just had to."
"Oh cool, I didn't know you and Angel knew each other," I opened my eyes wide with profound interest.
"I introduce all the smart, local core kids to each other," Taka smiled. "That way they have other kids in the scene to connect with, and they can establish more connections. We take care of each other and work together, like our own little community, you know?"
I have to say, it was a profound strategy. All hail Taka, Roppongi's most remarkable genius!
Conclusion:
1) 5-MeO-DMT. My new love drug!!!
Day 4 - Methylone, 14B, 5-MeO-DMT
For the remainder of the week, I developed a more steady routine and learned to make do with what I had. At night, I would be playing in Roppongi-clubbing, exploring, talking with Taka, and studying the drug scene. By day, I would go to the public baths to shower, and then it was off to the trains to nap. Every couple days I stopped by my dad's house whenever I ran out of clean clothes to wear.
After bathing, I stopped at an internet café to pass the time and give friends an update of my whereabouts. I received a message from a user of this site I frequent, stating that he was coincidentally in Japan the same week I was for business (weird, that's the second time that's happened to me this summer) and asked me if I could show him what's happening in Tokyo. I figured since I was alone so far for my entire trip, it would be nice to have somebody around, and consented. I told him the location of Taka's shop in Roppongi, and informed him I would be there from 10PM, every night. That was my usual hang-out spot.
Oddly enough, my memory was shot; I only vaguely remember the events of last night. I wondered if it was due to daily drug use or lack of proper sleep, or a result of both. I remember taking 100mg and not feeling anything too intense, but remembering how much fun the core kids were having on it ignited a desire to give M-rone another chance. Taka gave me a discount on a 200mg package of methylone and an 18mL vial of 14Butanediol I bought.
(1,4B also referred to as "Gamma" in Japan)
All my friends advised me to stay away from 14B (which converts to GHB in the stomach), because it is about 10 times more toxic than actual GHB. According to records, some people were able to trip off as little as 2mL of liquid, and some ended up passing out at 8mL. Almost all the 14B trip reports on Erowid implied a negative reaction or total blackout, therefore I had an idea of how potent a chemical it was. Despite this, I was still determined to try it, so long as I was not reckless with it. I consumed roughly 3mL and conversed with Taka while waiting for effects to kick in.
"I want to take DPT in a graveyard or an old temple at night," I smirked at the idea. "Scare the shit out of myself."
Taka stated an obvious, "You're weird. Your chemistry and way of thinking is totally opposite from normal human beings, you know that?"
A middle aged Japanese man with a stern face came to inquire about any new products. He was wearing casual clothing and seemed in a bit of a hurry. He briskly walked out of sight after buying 30mg of 2-C-T-7 and 100mg 4-Ho-DiPT. I saw that Taka was not as talkative or responsive towards him as he was with his other usual customers, but I did not think anything of it.
As soon as that customer was out of earshot, Taka expressed, "I'm always wary to sell that guy. He ate an entire 100mg of 2-CE not too long ago."
"What! He lived?!??!?" I remembered how bad the body load was on a 20-something mg dose, I couldn't imagine anything above and beyond that. "But WHY?"
"He's the type that takes drugs to escape. Probably suicidal," Taka concluded. There was a gloomy undertone attached to his voice.
This got me fascinated by the diversity of the people that came to the shop everyday. I wondered how the customers differed by region or culture, and what customers Taka himself preferred. I initiated a question regarding the types of folk he dealt with everyday.
"The stereotypical image with drugs is that only a younger, rebellious crowd uses them. Many young teens do come here to buy these products, but that is not always the case," Taka reflected. "I get a wide variety of people… Idiots, geniuses, mafia members, wealthy businessmen, college students, foreigners, you name it. Some use it for social or party purposes, some use it out of boredom, some use it to enhance their sex lives, and some use it for self-exploration and spiritual study. It's pretty intriguing how greatly everybody's motives for using vary."
"Do you get any special customers-clients that stand out from the rest?"
"I normally forget most people that come by, especially since most are tourists on vacation," Taka confessed. "But there is the occasional person that has that unique spark about them, and I definitely think about them from time to time. Like Angel for example, even though he is a regular, there is no way you can forget a figure that insane... And then there was you. When I saw you lying on the ground after you took that 2-CE, I knew I would never forget your face."
A large crowd of noisy drunkards stumbled by, screaming all sorts of gibberish to each other and drawing attention to themselves.
Taka finished his sentence, "...But Roppongi is mostly full of dumbasses. Drunk, stupid people... Trannies too. Lots and lots of trannies."
I snickered, because I knew he was right; this place was FULL of gays and trannies. I turned my head to the direction he was looking and saw what he was seeing--a tall man dressed in leather BDSM gear, who went by the alias "Hard Gay." The drunken crowd stopped to take some explicit pictures with him, and Taka was able to sneak one in with his camera phone.
(The man that I aspire to be, hahahah)
"That guy's really famous around these parts," Taka giggled with glee. "He's hilarious too, last time he walked by he spanked his ass and blew me a kiss."
This sort of "freak show" was an everyday occurrence, and at first I may have suffered a bit of culture shock, but I learned to quickly accept it as normal custom. That was another thing I absolutely adored about Tokyo: True sexual openness and acceptance.
I glanced at my watch. An hour and a half had passed by, and I did not feel as if I were under the influence of anything at all.
"That's strange, it usually takes a half hour," Taka mentioned, "Maybe an hour, tops. Try drinking a little more, average dose is 5-6mL."
I measured out another 5mL and re-dosed. As I was doing so, a short Asian guy approached the counter and asked if I was Mistress K. I knew then this was the person that had messaged me earlier, and he politely introduced himself as Bobby. He did not speak Japanese, so I had to introduce him to Taka and translate each other's words. After we got comfortable enough with each other, he focused his attention towards the products being sold.
"What do you recommend?" he directed towards me. "I'll do whatever you think is good."
I asked him to summarize his history with drugs, what his favorites were, whether he liked visuals, and so forth. He dabbed with a few things once or twice, but his #1 choice was ecstasy. Without a second thought, I pointed to the 200mg methylone powder and let him know it was 3000yen. He subtlety inched closer to Taka in a sneaky fashion and tried to hide the money in his fist, as if shady business were being conducted.
Taka and I both laughed out loud. "You don't have to do that here...this is all legal, so you can do it out in the open."
"I think it's really cute when tourists do that," Taka commented. "But it makes me look damn suspicious! And then bystanders think I AM doing something illegal."
I flashed back to the first time I bought a research chemical in Tokyo ever off Taka, before I even knew him. I remembered being so paranoid, I was looking around in every which direction for cops and went as far as having suspicions about Taka himself being a D (now that's REAL paranoia, haha). Like Bobby, I too tried to carry out the monetary exchange secretively.
"So what clubs are good around here?" Bobby spoke, snapping my attention away from my imagination. "I'm more of a trance or house guy."
"Gaspanic and Velfarre are some pretty big ones. If you're looking for atmosphere, then Hideout is fun. I was thinking about going there pretty soon," I named, and then offered to take him if he wanted to come along.
He agreed, but regretfully informed he had to get back home fairly early because of work the next morning. It was still only midnight, so I told Taka I was going to unwind with some M-rone, and he could expect me back in a couple hours, before sunrise.
I was impressed with tonight's atmosphere in the club; it was busy, crowded, and full of vigor. We both took our methylones in the club, and I snorted about 3/4 of mine in the bathroom. It had a smooth texture going up my nostril, with almost no stinging or burning sensation. It also had a clean, pure chemical smell to it; not harsh in the slightest. It had been at least 2 months since I snorted any substance, so until then it didn't occur to me just how much I missed doing it. I got phantom highs of other drugs I snorted, and chills quivered down my back.
(The bartender at Hideout doing a neat trick)
I ran into Mitsutaka and Methylone Junkie again, and they of course were on nothing other than more methylone.
"Did you guys even leave the club since last night?!" I shrieked.
"We had to. The club closes at noon," Mitsutaka bopped his head to the music.
I looked at M-Rone Junkie, who was leaned back contentedly in a chair, head hanging down like a ragdoll. "Is he okay?"
"He's feeling too good to move. He's been like that all day I swear," Mitsutaka criticized half-heartedly. "If he doesn't snap out of it soon I'm going to have to send his ass to rehab. For methylone, goddammit!"
About 30 minutes had passed and I was feeling nothing-meanwhile, Bobby on the other hand was feeling ecstatic, exclaiming that it was similar to E. I started getting paranoid about my body; What if I fried my brain so much that this was the reason I couldn't get high? I grew damn impatient by the late onset, so I ate the rest of the methylone I was carrying.
About 15 minutes later, the changes I monitored were increased "oomph" and desire to apply that pent-up energy. However, there were no empathogenic qualities or real exhilarating physical effects; just an urge to dance. It was a simple clean, speedy feeling. I consider that methylone may have cross tolerance with methamphetamine, as that would certainly explain a lot.
(Despite this, why does it look like I am obviously peaking damn hard in this picture? M-Rone Junkie was absent, aka too methyloned out to pose for a picture.)
I was rather disappointed with the turn-out of events, but this didn't stop me from entertaining the people around so that they could enjoy the night. Based on past experiences, I knew that deep down the trick was mind over matter. I reclined next to Methylone Junkie, and we both closed our eyes letting the dips and breaks of the music flow through us. Luckily, the DJ's set that night was excellent. When a melody reached the pinnacle of its phrase, a full-on roll was induced from my body.
I fully admit that one of the reasons I love Hideout is because usually you'll find a group of cute club guys dancing on the tables. I was in a trance watching them take turns jumping around with no fear, interacting with everybody else and getting them hyped up. One of the first things that came to mind was how differently people dance compared to back home; here, they actually get really into the music and thrash their entire body around with heart. It's a very pure, innocent style of enjoyment, with no holds barred.
I become fully aware of just how sleazy American clubs are, particularly the more popular ones where hip hop or mainstream music is played. Nobody enjoys REAL dancing at those types of clubs; it's more like shaking your ass to impress others or finding slimy fucks to freak with in hopes of hooking up later. Nobody in Tokyo sneaks from behind me and starts grinding their crotch in my leg, either. They respect my space, and I grew to appreciate that.
I'm beginning to like the chic, rock star look a lot of these core guys sport. It's a more gorgeous, dramatic look, drastically different from fashion back home. We don't have guys like that back in California.
(This is the sort of style I am describing. It's freaky, eh? One thing I will NEVER get over is that hair!!!)
A clubber with a golden, poofy hairdo grooving on the tables shot me a smile, and I waved back at him. After his turn up on stage he approached me in a friendly fashion and introduced himself. It was difficult hearing with all the blasting club noise, so I couldn't catch his name.
"Kawaii ne!" he praised. (You're cute!)
I was flattered, but couldn't find much to talk about. Though I'm fairly fluent in Japanese, I was afraid I might lack the verbal skills to engage in deeper conversation, and suddenly got shy. The conversation ended abruptly there.
It seemed as if time was sped up on the methylone, because before I knew it, it was 3A.M. and Bobby announced that he had to leave soon. The 14B did not produce any effect on me whatsoever. I was rather let down by the anticlimactic outcome, and brainstormed on what I could do to make up for it.
I proposed to Bobby, "You wanna smoke some 5-MeO?"
"I don't know what that is," Bobby hesitated. "But okay."
And just like that, we left the club headed back to Taka's shop. Taka was bewildered when I demanded 100mg of 5-MeO-DMT. It was a split-second decision and I was determined to go through with it. He knew it was the RC I had the most interest in, but I was too scared to try it-not of the experience, but of my heart, which was still recovering.
"Why now, all of a sudden? What changed your mind?" Taka was full of questions. "Are you SURE you want to do this? It might be a little scary... What if it's too much for your heart?"
I expressed that my 14B unfortunately never kicked in, and I would rate the methylone slightly below mediocre. "It should have worked better, I mean I snorted most of it…"
Taka gave a suggestion. "People say that M-rone works best orally. Even better rectal or intranasal administration, I hear."
I recalled not feeling a climb in the peak until I orally consumed the rest of the methylone, and thought that he may be right. Perhaps the methylone metabolized differently in the stomach, or it interacted with the 14B somehow. I showed Taka how much 14B I drank and a look of shock appeared on his face.
"That's quite a bit… You aren't feeling anything at all? I've never seen anything like that before..." He also clarified that people with a high alcohol tolerance also experience cross-tolerance with 14B. I used to drink everyday, but lately I haven't touched alcohol at all, so I carefully analyzed this possibility.
Taka randomly suggested that I smoke the 5-MeO-DMT in the middle of the street.
"Hey!" I accused indignantly. "I thought you didn't want me to snort TMA-2 around your store cause it will make you look bad!"
"It's true. But I'd take the risk to see you on 5-MeO-DMT scared shitless," Taka backed up his reasoning. "BUT-I saw a few cops walking around, and if they hassle you, I'm going to pretend I don't know you, okay?"
"You're so mean!" I cried, and we both laughed.
I read enough up on 5-MeO-DMT to know that it wouldn't be a good idea to do in a noisy, public area. Bobby and I went halfway on the product and then made a stop at Freak Brothers, an overpriced headshop and bought the cheapest pipe there and bid farewell to Taka before leaving.
"Text me after you do it," Taka waved goodbye.
Bobby's hotel was within walking distance and I was welcomed in. He played some progressive trance on his laptop while I placed tiny 3mg specks in the pipe. We smoked and immediately experienced something pleasurable in the body with mild visuals, and felt safe upping the dose. I put in 5-6mg and instructed him to inhale slowly and hold the smoke in your lungs as long as possible. He had his eyes closed and remained unresponsive. I took the pipe from his fingers and paused to engross myself in the utter dementia of the whole situation. I am about to smoke 5-MeO-DMT with somebody I just met overseas the same fucking night I met him!
I kept my eyes open as all the colors in the room shone with the glow of a digital rainbow. Light transformed into multidimensional ripples; we were underneath the pond of a midnight summer's dream. I felt myself slipping away into another dimension, but I was still not up as far out in the universe as I wanted to be. I put in 10 more mg and smoked it again.
While most people envision the ends of the universe or the resurrection of a divine spirit, all I could think about was how bomb this would be to use as a love drug. Just imagining being touched sexually induced a sharp, exhilarating feeling from the inner walls of my chest and expanded the sensation outward. I sensed even the slightest movement in the room sensually, as if I were riding the waves of internal pleasure. I was amazed at how sexually in touch I was with myself.
My libido was parallel to the trip's intensity; it increased directly at the peak, and then gradually diminished as the trip wore off. By nature, I am a compulsive orgasm addict, so my first instinct was to grab the pipe again and smoke some more. And more. And more. And then some.
In between trips, I sent Taka a short and simple text: "I LOVE THIS DRUG!"
I understand DMT tolerance takes at least a couple hours to fully wear off, but I was so stuck on achieving blissful climax that I was too impatient to wait. I smoked that thing like fucking crack, so much that Bobby nervously suggested that perhaps it would be in best interest to put the pipe down for a bit. I kept telling him that it would be my last one, only to reach for it again several minutes later. I started to get cranky and extremely irritable on the comedown, all within the span of an hour! I pondered that perhaps one reason I fiended for it was maybe a cause of past psychological issues with smoking out of a meth pipe. There was one point where I felt as if I couldn't even live without 5-MeO-DMT. I must be the only person to have actually developed a dependency to 5-MeO. Then again, I must also be the only freak out there that would dream of using this as a sexual enhancer.
I noticed myself acting like a real asshole-it wasn't intentional, it was a natural after-effect of too much 5-MeO. I suppose this means I technically suffered from 5-MeO-DMT withdrawal (hahaha!). It was like the worst case of blue balls in history-the belligerent King Meth comedown of all comedowns-the kind you would only get after binging for 40 days and 40 nights. For example, whenever Bobby cracked a joke or made a comment, I would ignore it and just give him a defiant stare. Luckily, I was able to refrain from making a rude comment.
I tried my best to display a positive vibe, but gloomy, sadistic thoughts permeated my thought process. I could feel the negative presence omitting from me and I felt bad for Bobby. I selected to leave before Bobby began resenting me.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling well. I'm going to have to go rest… I feel a little sick, maybe too much partying… I'm really sorry I have to leave so early," I apologized and excused myself. I didn't want any hard feelings, so as I got up to leave I promised, "I'll make it up to you. Let's go party at Velfarre this weekend, yeah?"
Bobby did not seem upset in the least, and cheerfully said he was willing, but it would have to be Sunday night because he had work until then.
It was still 4:30AM when I exited his hotel, so I revisited Taka in hopes of telling him all about my trip. It was a timely coincidence, because Jesus Christ (aka Sensei, from Day 2's trip) was there, chatting up another intellectual storm I'm sure. I told them all about my 5-MeO-DMT trip and they were both in a frenzy of laughter. Neither of them could accept my appeal to use it as a love drug.
"Are you kidding?" Sensei was amused. "Aren't most people scared shitless of this one?"
Taka started half-kidding around. "Even the core druggies who love it take it very seriously. Only somebody as messed up in the head as her would want to use it for that purpose."
Needless to say, I couldn't disagree.
"Does she remind you of anybody you know?" Taka nudged.
Sensei laughed without a moment's delay, "Angel!"
I'm not really quite sure if that was a compliment or insult, considering this was the guy who resorted to tripping off random (not to mention potentially deadly) household products in case of a lack-of-sufficient-drug emergency. I gracefully accepted it as a compliment anyway, figuring at the least, it meant that I was ballsy.
"I introduced her to Angel yesterday," Taka looked directly at Sensei. "Their lifestyle and way of thinking is too alike, I just had to."
"Oh cool, I didn't know you and Angel knew each other," I opened my eyes wide with profound interest.
"I introduce all the smart, local core kids to each other," Taka smiled. "That way they have other kids in the scene to connect with, and they can establish more connections. We take care of each other and work together, like our own little community, you know?"
I have to say, it was a profound strategy. All hail Taka, Roppongi's most remarkable genius!
Conclusion:
1) 5-MeO-DMT. My new love drug!!!
