Vintage Audiocide
Bluelighter
So it had to happen some time. Ah, can anyone say deja vu?
It had been quite the long while since my last truly intense LSD trip. The most recent was about a year ago, when I took what I knew to be great windowpane from a friend and stuck two squares to the back of my glass eye. Just to recall that day, I was leaning back to put the eye in, and as I leaned forward, I said this:
"So when will I - fucking colors!"
The first ten minutes of that trip constitutes the greatest visual experience I ever had, such as my dalmation's hair growing to the ground, dripping off, and leaving puddles.
But as for recently. This 6-square trip.
It all started with a fire. A small fire. I just wanted one, so I built one. And realized I needed firewood.
And when I thought firewood, I thought about the report of two hits of LSD that a member posted here.
So I broke into my freezer and found the 12 hits of windowpane. Why not half it with my best friend?
So I did.
I just so happened to know of a great cherry tree that had fallen not a mile and a half from my house, so I went to get the chainsaw. I didn't figure I'd ever get to using it, but I strapped it on my bike anyhow.
Now you can imagine my disappointment when I realized that I had to put a new gas tank on my bike before I was going anywhere. So I give Moose the news and he heads for the tree to begin the job.
So I start to notice something I have never noticed before in my life - early effects on oral LSD. It was on a stomach full of coffee, but I'm not so sure that matters. As I was searching for the tank, I happened to look at a puddle of water from my outside tap and it slowly grew larger and smaller.
This was maybe thirty minutes after the zero hour. I decided this tank was gonna be difficult to put on, so I took off walking. Just a mile walking ridgetops.
Just a mile.
I had walked no more than a quarter of that before the trees began to bend back and forth at me. The bark in the pine thicket was amazing, as it had divided into seperate slices and was moving about. It was like many tiny, brown creatures covered the tree. Very interesting, for the first hour.
I finally made it to the cherry tree. It's on the edge of what used to be a pasture. I spot Moose's quadbike, but I have no idea where mine is for about a minute, before I remember that I walked.
Moose was nowhere to be seen. So I yelled for him a couple of times. I began to hear his laugh. So I started laughing and could no longer hear him.
I was maybe fifteen feet from his bike when he jumped out of the grass like a crazed man. I would have shit myself if it wasn't for the fact that I knew he was there. We feel over and laughed for a solid ten minutes at least, as if we weren't in our fifties.
By now the long grass surrounding us was taller than one would ever hope it to get. It was difficult to navigate on orur sides, so we stood.
The wind by now had picked up, and the grass was a rolling sea of brown. Moose's quadbike was floating away.
So I chased it down. I started it to my amazement, and before I knew it I was moving. The forest around me was alive, and the voice of the rustling leaves was so very soothing and great. I suddenly realized how horrid and vile the sound of the quadbike was. And then I got an idea.
I went and got Moose and we went back to the cabin. No firewood that day. There is only one word to describe the ride home. Insane. We not once ever pointed in the direction of the cabin, but rather cruised around the forest on our many trails. We eventually found the cabin, and I immediately went inside.
The contrast between the outdoors and inside my closed-up cabin was spectacular. No wind, slightly warmer, and much less light. I quickly found what I was looking for and went back outside.
We have been known to toy with ourselves under these circumstances, but this was simply amazing. Smokebombs nowadays have taken on a form as big as a newspaper. They last forever, and forever is even longer when you're under an influence.
The smoke from these things - the blue, the purple, the yellow, they all danced together in the air and the wind carried them into the trees, where the colors stuck to leaves. Upon closer (and I mean tree-climbing closer) inspection, I realized that the leaves were now changing to every color possible.
We adventured for most of the day, going to small, babbling waterfalls downstream from us, and even going into St. Louis to visit a close friend. The skies on the ride there never stilled themselves, and it was as if the clouds were putting on a show for us both.
Plus we listened to a bit of Widespread Panic in the stereo.
All in all it was grand. Sorry for the long and pointless droning, but I had to say something about it.
I mean, when your friend's beard grows a face and starts to move its mouth with his, you begin to wonder how much more you could enjoy this.
--mic
It had been quite the long while since my last truly intense LSD trip. The most recent was about a year ago, when I took what I knew to be great windowpane from a friend and stuck two squares to the back of my glass eye. Just to recall that day, I was leaning back to put the eye in, and as I leaned forward, I said this:
"So when will I - fucking colors!"
The first ten minutes of that trip constitutes the greatest visual experience I ever had, such as my dalmation's hair growing to the ground, dripping off, and leaving puddles.
But as for recently. This 6-square trip.
It all started with a fire. A small fire. I just wanted one, so I built one. And realized I needed firewood.
And when I thought firewood, I thought about the report of two hits of LSD that a member posted here.
So I broke into my freezer and found the 12 hits of windowpane. Why not half it with my best friend?
So I did.
I just so happened to know of a great cherry tree that had fallen not a mile and a half from my house, so I went to get the chainsaw. I didn't figure I'd ever get to using it, but I strapped it on my bike anyhow.
Now you can imagine my disappointment when I realized that I had to put a new gas tank on my bike before I was going anywhere. So I give Moose the news and he heads for the tree to begin the job.
So I start to notice something I have never noticed before in my life - early effects on oral LSD. It was on a stomach full of coffee, but I'm not so sure that matters. As I was searching for the tank, I happened to look at a puddle of water from my outside tap and it slowly grew larger and smaller.
This was maybe thirty minutes after the zero hour. I decided this tank was gonna be difficult to put on, so I took off walking. Just a mile walking ridgetops.
Just a mile.
I had walked no more than a quarter of that before the trees began to bend back and forth at me. The bark in the pine thicket was amazing, as it had divided into seperate slices and was moving about. It was like many tiny, brown creatures covered the tree. Very interesting, for the first hour.
I finally made it to the cherry tree. It's on the edge of what used to be a pasture. I spot Moose's quadbike, but I have no idea where mine is for about a minute, before I remember that I walked.
Moose was nowhere to be seen. So I yelled for him a couple of times. I began to hear his laugh. So I started laughing and could no longer hear him.
I was maybe fifteen feet from his bike when he jumped out of the grass like a crazed man. I would have shit myself if it wasn't for the fact that I knew he was there. We feel over and laughed for a solid ten minutes at least, as if we weren't in our fifties.
By now the long grass surrounding us was taller than one would ever hope it to get. It was difficult to navigate on orur sides, so we stood.
The wind by now had picked up, and the grass was a rolling sea of brown. Moose's quadbike was floating away.
So I chased it down. I started it to my amazement, and before I knew it I was moving. The forest around me was alive, and the voice of the rustling leaves was so very soothing and great. I suddenly realized how horrid and vile the sound of the quadbike was. And then I got an idea.
I went and got Moose and we went back to the cabin. No firewood that day. There is only one word to describe the ride home. Insane. We not once ever pointed in the direction of the cabin, but rather cruised around the forest on our many trails. We eventually found the cabin, and I immediately went inside.
The contrast between the outdoors and inside my closed-up cabin was spectacular. No wind, slightly warmer, and much less light. I quickly found what I was looking for and went back outside.
We have been known to toy with ourselves under these circumstances, but this was simply amazing. Smokebombs nowadays have taken on a form as big as a newspaper. They last forever, and forever is even longer when you're under an influence.
The smoke from these things - the blue, the purple, the yellow, they all danced together in the air and the wind carried them into the trees, where the colors stuck to leaves. Upon closer (and I mean tree-climbing closer) inspection, I realized that the leaves were now changing to every color possible.
We adventured for most of the day, going to small, babbling waterfalls downstream from us, and even going into St. Louis to visit a close friend. The skies on the ride there never stilled themselves, and it was as if the clouds were putting on a show for us both.
Plus we listened to a bit of Widespread Panic in the stereo.
All in all it was grand. Sorry for the long and pointless droning, but I had to say something about it.
I mean, when your friend's beard grows a face and starts to move its mouth with his, you begin to wonder how much more you could enjoy this.
--mic
