ForEverAfter
Ex-Bluelighter
It has been a long time since I’ve experimented with DXM. I’ve always found it to be a fascinating drug. It is so unique, the DXM experience, so bizarre. LSD is like psilocybin, which is like mescaline. DXM, on the other hand, is comparable to nothing. I have had countless extraordinary experiences with this wonderful and misunderstood substance. The upper plateau hallucinations are far more intense than any psychedelic I have ever had, but it is the delirium what really fascinates me. It is not like alcohol induced delirium. It is like being insane. Like Mad Hatter insane. Apologies in advance for ramblings.
I’ve decided to start a series of experiments, combining different quantities of DXM HBi with various psychedelic substances. This is the first of those experiments.
0:00 (4pm) – Consumed 6 gel caps, each containing an average of 0.32 grams dried mushrooms (psilocybe subaeruginosa) and 125 ml of Robitussin Dry Cough Forte, containing 30mg/ 10ml Dextromethorphan Hydrobromide… Initial dose = 2 grams, dried p. subs; and 375mg, DXM HBi. Consumed on a full stomach w/ a fish oil and multi-vitamin chaser.
I used to find drinking the syrup a little disgusting. In the years since my last DXM experience, I have had various experiences with Ayahuasca, muscimole (fly-agaric stew) and mescaline (cactus juice). In other words, the syrup no longer bothers me.
+0:15 – I can feel the DXM already. The onset is always rapid, more so than with psychedelics. Slight loss of feeling around the facial muscles and slightly inflated sensation surrounding my brain, as if there is fluid being poured into the gap between bone and organ. There is also a noticeable buzz from the sugar content of the syrup, this I could do without.
+0:30 – Had a shower and a shave. Dissociative effects are already very much in play. My body doesn’t feel like my own. Nor does it feel like someone else’s. It is merely a thing that needs to be maintained. No more part of me than my house. Put on some loose fitting clothes made from lightweight material. The sensations described earlier have spread from my head to the rest of my body. I am becoming extremely relaxed, almost sedated. My movements are noticeable slower. Cognition relating to the real-world is reduced; physical co-ordination requires increased concentration. Time to roll a couple of joints before I become incapable.
+0:45 – Put half a gram of high quality cannabis in a coffee grinder and attempted to roll a couple. Was somewhat difficult, so I just made one really big one. Will smoke it later, if necessary.
+0:50 – I can feel the mushrooms rising against the DXM. That initial surge of anxious energy that coincides with the beginning of a psych trip is battling the sedative qualities of the dissociative. It is a strange feeling, this little dance the substances do before they join forces. I feel mildly nauseous, will probably vomit within the hour. Need to lie down.
+0:55 – As I walk to my bed, movement feels incredible. Such fluidity, like I’m swimming through my house. It’s coming on hard now. I’ve forgotten how intense this drug is.
+1:05 – Listening to a Sigur Ros album. My body writhing around like a worm on the mattress. The music flowing through me, filling me up with pure joy. The substances have made friends. My head is pulsing, waves of warm liquid sensation are flowing through me. There appears to be no resistance in my joints. I am a contortionist. Fully and completely relaxed. Like a baby in the womb. The music is my mother. The nausea is gone.
+1:15 – I no longer know how to walk. Upon observation it would appear that I have some sort of disability. My movements are erratic and inexplicable, the opposite of soldiers marching. Each step is unique and unpredictable. It is becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate. The music is not music. It just is. Istigkeit. But I love it, more than I have ever loved music. The mushrooms have broken down the stigma surrounding “music” and what it is, and allowed me to listen fresh. On top of that the DXM has separated my consciousness from the word “is” itself (and the word “fresh” and every other fucking word). The combined effect brings me closer to the music. Into it. At the same time, I am forcing myself out of it, to remain conscious, for the purposes of this report. But I can’t anymore. Need to have a good long meditative musical cleansing.
+1:30 – Can’t seem to get myself into a DXM trance. The mushrooms are making me more lucid, more aware of the outside world. What I wanted to achieve was a psychedelic trance, but the balance is wrong. Need to consume more DXM if I want to have a more introspective/detached experience. Sweetheart (one of my many cats) is lying upside down beside me with her legs sticking up into the air. How easy it is for her, I think, as I touch her on the nose. She is perfect.
+1:40 – Consumed 25 ml of Robitussin Dry Cough Forte, containing 30mg/ 10ml Dextromethorphan Hydrobromide… Total dose = 2 grams, dried p. subs; and 450mg, DXM HBi. This should be enough. While drinking it I felt another wave hit me. A big fucker. The additional 75mg of DXM HBi may have been unnecessary. Something huge is coming. I’m already much higher than if I had a strong tab of acid, or 4+ grams of mushrooms, but it’s only the beginning. I can feel it, building up. Hallucinations/ visual distortions are constant, both close-eyed and open-eyed. My depth perception is totally fucked and there are tracers everywhere. Psychedelic shrink wrap decorating everything from toilet bowls to blades of grass. When I look from one thing to another, there are frames missing in between. My perception skips from focal point to focal point, ignoring all the shit that happens to exist between them. These images, that are taken in by my brain, they are dismissed as irrelevant. I have better things to think about than the space between objects.
+1:50 – Psychedelics help me to reconnect with the physical and spiritual nature of my existence. Dissociatives separate me from the physical. Therefore, the combination of psychedelics and dissociatives help me connect with the spiritual nature of my existence.
+2:00 – I touch my face. It is meaningless. This face. How absurd. I am not me. I do not know me. Objects in my house start taking on antagonistic properties. The vacuum cleaner. That box of junk in the corner. I dislike them immensely. They are representative of a world, poison to my soul. I roll into fetal position, in the middle of an unfurnished room. My face pressed against the carpet, I close my eyes and there it is. The void. That lovely black void where thoughts exist and souls dance, where nothing is physical. It is time to trance now. But first, I will have a little puff on that joint I made earlier. The cannabis will help me dissolve into the ether.
+2:10 – I smoke one third the joint (a sixth gram), standing on my verandah. I am so high and my movements are so unusual that I am slightly concerned that I might be exhibiting some kind of heightened drug-fucked aura for all to see. But they don’t see me as I do. I remind myself that it is – mostly – my state of consciousness that has been altered. As I continue to smoke, I attempt to remain inconspicuous, normal. I smile at my alien neighbors.
+2:20 – Physicality is all wrong. The trip is trying to go beyond it. If I hold my head in both hands and close my eyes it feels like my arms are stretched out left and right holding buckets of water. There is very little sense of a 3-dimensional world left. I need to remove myself from it, now. Finally. From this wretched keyboard. I feel like Bill in Interzone.
+2:30 – The trance is not going to happen, I don’t think. I used to chug a bit of cough syrup, put on some Mr. Bungle and fly through the astral planes. My expectation was that mushrooms would alter the flying experience. But they don’t. They ground me. Attach me to reality. Just slightly. I’m tripping on a tight rope of sensations and it’s fucking amazing. I started singing at the top of my voice. Using my voice like an instrument, experimenting with it. Detached from everything except from my (non-physical) self and the music. Just me and sound. Perfect balance.
+2:40 – Astonishingly, my coordination has been restored – improved even. I can walk, dance. The delirium is there as a tool, not a blanket. That is, I am only delirious if I chose to be.
+2:50 – I tell my body to collapse. Not into a comfortable position, just into a position. It does. After a while I find myself doing Tai Chi like movements, my body re-arranging itself into alignment with the universe. Fantomas blasting in my brain. Crazy tribal shit mixed with Mike Patton insanity. I change it to: Mr. Bungle, The Air Conditioned Nightmare. This is my DXM anthem. It always has been. They bound together long ago inside my brain. That tunnel leading to the other world, it’s walls are plastered – from the skyscrapers down to the submarines – with images of Bungle. Crazy band for a crazy fucking drug.
+3:05 – Last attempt for a DXM-Trance (OOBE). Consumed remaining 50ml of Robitussin Dry Cough Forte and smoked half the remaining joint (another sixth of a gram of cannabis). Total dose = 2 grams, dried p. subs; a third of a gram of cannabis and 600mg, DXM HBi.
+4:25 – Experiencing strange sensations. Feels like something is touching me but there is nothing there. I feel extremely tired. Tried to sleep, couldn’t. Began to experience terror. Realized that the music had stopped playing on my MP3 player. Pushed play and felt wonderful again. DXM requires an abstract blanket, I’ve found, as a safety measure, to avoid complete breakdown.
+4:45 – Very strong hallucinations. Starting to freak me out a bit. Going to lie down again.
+5:00 – Open-eye hallucinations peak. The void is a mystic place. You can access it with drugs, but it is not a drug, the void. It is a place. It is also this place. When you leave a light on in the darkness, insects huddle together underneath, sharing that light. When you become illuminated, the universe flocks. Where previously you were invisible, now you exist.
+6:00 – I’m going to stop the report here, though I’m sure the effects will continue on for many hours.
I’ve decided to start a series of experiments, combining different quantities of DXM HBi with various psychedelic substances. This is the first of those experiments.
0:00 (4pm) – Consumed 6 gel caps, each containing an average of 0.32 grams dried mushrooms (psilocybe subaeruginosa) and 125 ml of Robitussin Dry Cough Forte, containing 30mg/ 10ml Dextromethorphan Hydrobromide… Initial dose = 2 grams, dried p. subs; and 375mg, DXM HBi. Consumed on a full stomach w/ a fish oil and multi-vitamin chaser.
I used to find drinking the syrup a little disgusting. In the years since my last DXM experience, I have had various experiences with Ayahuasca, muscimole (fly-agaric stew) and mescaline (cactus juice). In other words, the syrup no longer bothers me.
+0:15 – I can feel the DXM already. The onset is always rapid, more so than with psychedelics. Slight loss of feeling around the facial muscles and slightly inflated sensation surrounding my brain, as if there is fluid being poured into the gap between bone and organ. There is also a noticeable buzz from the sugar content of the syrup, this I could do without.
+0:30 – Had a shower and a shave. Dissociative effects are already very much in play. My body doesn’t feel like my own. Nor does it feel like someone else’s. It is merely a thing that needs to be maintained. No more part of me than my house. Put on some loose fitting clothes made from lightweight material. The sensations described earlier have spread from my head to the rest of my body. I am becoming extremely relaxed, almost sedated. My movements are noticeable slower. Cognition relating to the real-world is reduced; physical co-ordination requires increased concentration. Time to roll a couple of joints before I become incapable.
+0:45 – Put half a gram of high quality cannabis in a coffee grinder and attempted to roll a couple. Was somewhat difficult, so I just made one really big one. Will smoke it later, if necessary.
+0:50 – I can feel the mushrooms rising against the DXM. That initial surge of anxious energy that coincides with the beginning of a psych trip is battling the sedative qualities of the dissociative. It is a strange feeling, this little dance the substances do before they join forces. I feel mildly nauseous, will probably vomit within the hour. Need to lie down.
+0:55 – As I walk to my bed, movement feels incredible. Such fluidity, like I’m swimming through my house. It’s coming on hard now. I’ve forgotten how intense this drug is.
+1:05 – Listening to a Sigur Ros album. My body writhing around like a worm on the mattress. The music flowing through me, filling me up with pure joy. The substances have made friends. My head is pulsing, waves of warm liquid sensation are flowing through me. There appears to be no resistance in my joints. I am a contortionist. Fully and completely relaxed. Like a baby in the womb. The music is my mother. The nausea is gone.
+1:15 – I no longer know how to walk. Upon observation it would appear that I have some sort of disability. My movements are erratic and inexplicable, the opposite of soldiers marching. Each step is unique and unpredictable. It is becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate. The music is not music. It just is. Istigkeit. But I love it, more than I have ever loved music. The mushrooms have broken down the stigma surrounding “music” and what it is, and allowed me to listen fresh. On top of that the DXM has separated my consciousness from the word “is” itself (and the word “fresh” and every other fucking word). The combined effect brings me closer to the music. Into it. At the same time, I am forcing myself out of it, to remain conscious, for the purposes of this report. But I can’t anymore. Need to have a good long meditative musical cleansing.
+1:30 – Can’t seem to get myself into a DXM trance. The mushrooms are making me more lucid, more aware of the outside world. What I wanted to achieve was a psychedelic trance, but the balance is wrong. Need to consume more DXM if I want to have a more introspective/detached experience. Sweetheart (one of my many cats) is lying upside down beside me with her legs sticking up into the air. How easy it is for her, I think, as I touch her on the nose. She is perfect.
+1:40 – Consumed 25 ml of Robitussin Dry Cough Forte, containing 30mg/ 10ml Dextromethorphan Hydrobromide… Total dose = 2 grams, dried p. subs; and 450mg, DXM HBi. This should be enough. While drinking it I felt another wave hit me. A big fucker. The additional 75mg of DXM HBi may have been unnecessary. Something huge is coming. I’m already much higher than if I had a strong tab of acid, or 4+ grams of mushrooms, but it’s only the beginning. I can feel it, building up. Hallucinations/ visual distortions are constant, both close-eyed and open-eyed. My depth perception is totally fucked and there are tracers everywhere. Psychedelic shrink wrap decorating everything from toilet bowls to blades of grass. When I look from one thing to another, there are frames missing in between. My perception skips from focal point to focal point, ignoring all the shit that happens to exist between them. These images, that are taken in by my brain, they are dismissed as irrelevant. I have better things to think about than the space between objects.
+1:50 – Psychedelics help me to reconnect with the physical and spiritual nature of my existence. Dissociatives separate me from the physical. Therefore, the combination of psychedelics and dissociatives help me connect with the spiritual nature of my existence.
+2:00 – I touch my face. It is meaningless. This face. How absurd. I am not me. I do not know me. Objects in my house start taking on antagonistic properties. The vacuum cleaner. That box of junk in the corner. I dislike them immensely. They are representative of a world, poison to my soul. I roll into fetal position, in the middle of an unfurnished room. My face pressed against the carpet, I close my eyes and there it is. The void. That lovely black void where thoughts exist and souls dance, where nothing is physical. It is time to trance now. But first, I will have a little puff on that joint I made earlier. The cannabis will help me dissolve into the ether.
+2:10 – I smoke one third the joint (a sixth gram), standing on my verandah. I am so high and my movements are so unusual that I am slightly concerned that I might be exhibiting some kind of heightened drug-fucked aura for all to see. But they don’t see me as I do. I remind myself that it is – mostly – my state of consciousness that has been altered. As I continue to smoke, I attempt to remain inconspicuous, normal. I smile at my alien neighbors.
+2:20 – Physicality is all wrong. The trip is trying to go beyond it. If I hold my head in both hands and close my eyes it feels like my arms are stretched out left and right holding buckets of water. There is very little sense of a 3-dimensional world left. I need to remove myself from it, now. Finally. From this wretched keyboard. I feel like Bill in Interzone.
+2:30 – The trance is not going to happen, I don’t think. I used to chug a bit of cough syrup, put on some Mr. Bungle and fly through the astral planes. My expectation was that mushrooms would alter the flying experience. But they don’t. They ground me. Attach me to reality. Just slightly. I’m tripping on a tight rope of sensations and it’s fucking amazing. I started singing at the top of my voice. Using my voice like an instrument, experimenting with it. Detached from everything except from my (non-physical) self and the music. Just me and sound. Perfect balance.
+2:40 – Astonishingly, my coordination has been restored – improved even. I can walk, dance. The delirium is there as a tool, not a blanket. That is, I am only delirious if I chose to be.
+2:50 – I tell my body to collapse. Not into a comfortable position, just into a position. It does. After a while I find myself doing Tai Chi like movements, my body re-arranging itself into alignment with the universe. Fantomas blasting in my brain. Crazy tribal shit mixed with Mike Patton insanity. I change it to: Mr. Bungle, The Air Conditioned Nightmare. This is my DXM anthem. It always has been. They bound together long ago inside my brain. That tunnel leading to the other world, it’s walls are plastered – from the skyscrapers down to the submarines – with images of Bungle. Crazy band for a crazy fucking drug.
+3:05 – Last attempt for a DXM-Trance (OOBE). Consumed remaining 50ml of Robitussin Dry Cough Forte and smoked half the remaining joint (another sixth of a gram of cannabis). Total dose = 2 grams, dried p. subs; a third of a gram of cannabis and 600mg, DXM HBi.
+4:25 – Experiencing strange sensations. Feels like something is touching me but there is nothing there. I feel extremely tired. Tried to sleep, couldn’t. Began to experience terror. Realized that the music had stopped playing on my MP3 player. Pushed play and felt wonderful again. DXM requires an abstract blanket, I’ve found, as a safety measure, to avoid complete breakdown.
+4:45 – Very strong hallucinations. Starting to freak me out a bit. Going to lie down again.
+5:00 – Open-eye hallucinations peak. The void is a mystic place. You can access it with drugs, but it is not a drug, the void. It is a place. It is also this place. When you leave a light on in the darkness, insects huddle together underneath, sharing that light. When you become illuminated, the universe flocks. Where previously you were invisible, now you exist.
+6:00 – I’m going to stop the report here, though I’m sure the effects will continue on for many hours.
