T'rolling....first E/Acid.
To start this off, i've actually got to go back two days! Imagine this, you're in Melbourne (Aus) and the day is fuckin' 40 odd degrees, centigrade. The night does not get better, dropping to 28. Can't think, can't sleep, cain't do nuthin' but lie there eyes open trying not to notice the clock. Get up, knowing full well that you'd be lucky to have got a full half hours sleep. Now ya going to work...
That would've been bad enough, but it turned out to be the day from heckers for me. The company i just started working for has no records of me anywhere and thusly are not going to pay me for the last two weeks. In the light morning drizzle my car loses traction on the freeway entrance (going at 20kph) and spins gracefully around four times to settle on the median strip. If it had been rush hour, i would not be writing this... without the aid of a tongue depressor, anyway. Parent's going overseas. Organize their departure, get pets to cattery.
Stalk down pay officers at work. Grumble mightily. Finally, after a combination of standover and gentility, i am rewarded with my pay. Yes!! The night is on!!
Had planned to see aus. band 'Machine Gun Fellatio' and spend the rest of the night larkin' and going to the doof doof clubs...BUT... first cancellations arrive when get home to change.
Got to city and found i'd missed connection with girl i'd really been wanting to see again, and can't find number. Ring the LAST of me mates who agreed to come, and find they're too stoned to move from the bloody couch and travel fifty metres to where the band are playing.
So, to summarize my mood, i am way over-tired, annoyed, and suffering from the BIGGEST energy rush. Must've been the full moon, too.
Had a few drinks, no binging, just a few paced beers (Cooper's Ale in the Grand Prix special cans, for the afficienados) And whilst getting a snack and being a tad preoccupied, walk straight into the closed doors of a Burger King!! KNOW everyone is staring at me wondering how pissed this friday night drunk is. Would've been able to answer clearly, but i've knocked my knee (which is just managed to settle back into it's socket from a sports injury and, yes, i've broken my bloody nose. Again.
Achieve objective of getting back to the pub me mate works at, the juke box, and settle down to a few ice waters and salvaging my pride by beating morons at pool.
Okay, i had to list all this because it all lead to my mood at the time. My mate still, maybe, wanted to go out after his shift. I DID NOT GIVE A FUCK. I was beyond really caring apart from this gutteral instinct not to go home before dawn.
So's he finishes shift and his co-worker tells us he can get us into a club and maybe hook us up with some good pills. If we want. I'm asked. "Why the fuck not?" We go. I go in, pay, get pass out and trot home to change into something not as hot as was wearing.
Get back at: TIME STAMP: 6: 15 am. (and all others are approximations, i'm sorry, i don't carry a watch and still haven't figured out the fucking date.)
Go in. Try to dance. Not good with swollen knee. Tired, fucking sore, mildly depressed and irritated, and my energy rush is long faded. I'm getting annoyed by people walking thru me, being paranoid about who's looking, and SURE everyone thinks i'm a cop. (I get that a lot, probably because i tend to look people in the eye, and i do like asking questions when meet people...i try to tone it down *sigh*)
Catch up with me mate. He's scored us each a coupla'
White Turbo Mitsubishis, which he assures me are a topline version of an older MDMA pill. WHAT THE HELL.
Now, (i gots to give you more background and i am sorry, but we'll get to the meat soon) i'm a literal hyperactive, though now thirty. Lots of pills don't work on me. A ketamine pill that knocked friends out left me feeling... straight. Horribly, no-mind-altering-tinges-of-anything-STRAIGHT.
So i don't use the e-testers myself. I believe them, but what works on them may not on me. Though, i have had a run of good luck on the melbourne scene recently, managing to score Yonnex, Pokemon and Marlboroughs' over the NYE-till-now period.
So's i'll take me chance. Me and mate take a half and crunch, to see how fast t'will kick.
Settle in, let the beats wash over me and try to take a bit of the aggro away.
Within about a half hour (6.45 am) i'm a lot more relaxed. I'm starting to feel a bit lifty and the landscapes moving in a very good way. Yay to me!
At this point we go upstairs for air. Mate tells me his halve's kicking in. We high-five, drop other halves. Grin. Mate talks to his friend who was telling him about 'Pop-Tarts' and what a lovely, clean ride they were giving her. Asked if i could buy one and found out i'd just brought, not a pill like i thought, but a blotter acid. Shit! I've taken many of these over the years, but THEY don't work on me much either. The most i recall is being given a fit of the giggles. Hell. Buffy TVS gives me them! But, as i said before WHAT THE FUCK. an i necked it straight-up.
I'd been told about candy-flipping, but i haven't really read the threads on it here. A friend told me in played down the E and made it last much longer, this was in the back of my mind. But, to be honest, i'd've taken almost anything you put in my hands. I so not wanted to be feeling how i had. It's now abouts 7am or just after.
I go downstairs. Musics GREAT. I'm feeling bloody optimistic for the totality of the moment and just go to freefall.
When i get a good E, i dance for hours, i get pretty chatty and love wandering around talking cod-shite to compleat strangers. Well, that hadn't changed. What i really love about it is the feeling that i am in control. I can do what i want, fucked up or not, because i have the judgement on hand to make the call. Hold back or do it for the hell of it. E to me is like having this wellspring of energy bubbling up from within and it's my choice where to surf the tide.
On the physical effects, my hearing becomes very acute and i tend to 'hear' static on the edges of everything, especially the music and voices (to reproduce this, go put on a room fan and talk into the back. Make zapping sounds. Fun.)I get the eye wiggles and i become pretty touch orientated. The texture of things becomes pretty important, though without any hyper sensitivity.
I felt the rest of the mitsi kick and, MIRACLE! went and danced me arse off. I was recieving no pain from the nose or the knee, and indeed felt more relaxed and fluid. Dance till about 9.30/ 10am and then decide i have to get more acid. Track down someone selling 'em and buy another two. Take one immediately.
Went and danced till near the end of the club. Somebody left their glo-stix, so i kept myself well amused with those, note that i'm getting longer than usual 'streamer effects' from watching them. I think club shuts after 11am closer to 12, so my timing goes out round here. I could've kept dancing. My skin
has this incredible mixture of light sunburn from the day before and the air-conditioning. in the ceiling. I'm shaking from over-exertion and stress, but it all feels good! I'm pretty sure the acid's kicking my mood along. I feel energy filled, incredibly sensual and aware of my body, yet not sexual and still keeping the pain at one remove. And i'm more lucid than normal.
Decide to take break, rest the stress i know i'm gunna pay for later, and see what else has been altered with my perceptions. Fuckin' eye-opener, ey!
I found that my analytical abilities have kicked into overdrive. I read body language pretty well, but this was so intense it was like telepathy. I was reading the moods and relationships of those around me to a high degree. And it's not just the drugs giving me this conceit. You can tell watching people, who want's to sleep with who, and who has a chance, and who knows he don't got none but's still hanging round... You get the idea.
I spent the last however long deciding who were the best dancers at the club and it was fun and beautiful! I don't dance that well meself. Gave several criterion: They had to move fluidily, and in touch with their bodies. They had to be having the MOST fun. They had to be as unselfconcious about it as possible. No preening, no posing. Try it yerself, it can surprise you who you see those connections in.
I was now in the mostest, mellowest, lucid moment i can remember. No harsh edges. I truly believe because i absolutely did not fuckin' care what happened. I had been on a roller-coaster of expectations and dissapointments for a day, and had barely slept in 36 hours. I was going to neck pills and trips and i lived or i didn't live or i spent a few nice, quiet, monthes in the rubber-lined ward while they wait for me to bother putting myself back together. I felt totally free and peaceful, (and believe me i'm gonna treasure it when i sit down and force myself to think about what i spent when rent's due)
We leave the club. Whenever. The daylights out but don't care. We decide to go to pub. Mate didn't take the trips, knows i did. I amuse myself on the journey telling him things that the street signs are saying about him. He tries to figure if i am totally unplaneted, or am having him on. I try to guess how much of each he figures i am... that darned analysis program's still running!
We get to the pub, and things get better again. The lights non-club normal now. I'm totally cruisy but wondering why, while idly staring at the back of my hand, for (don't think of the money) dollars, i didn't get the full, "American Werewolf In London" visuals i get told about. And then i do.
The skin on the back of my hand darkens and moves. Not shapechanging, but subtley redefining itself within the outline of my hand. I start looking around and, yup! Everything's doing the slow mambo. Wallpaper, beer fridge. It's like a slow fantasia.
The analytical ability starts slowing it all down and showing me what's actually happening. As the lights shift the shadows move, and my eyes are blurred enuff by fatigue that i can let the outlines of things 'fuzz'. Then my mind fills in the blanks with what they most look like. Or that things shift themselves to the forward or backward part of my perspective. The colours change, too. I reason this is because, like flesh tones. We see a lot of different colours that make up the colour we call flesh. My analysis editor (what else can i call it) is working with my re-focussing vision to call different parts of the colour to dominance in my vision, the trick is just to relax my eyes. Too cool.
(I read/ was told that the streets look so clean and sparkly on acid. Later on, while trekking around i did notice that. The sharp shadows were washed out of my vision, leaving me with just the colours to look at)
And while doing this, i'm carrying on a coupla' conversations with other people who aren't that clued to what i'm on (jes' put it down to the all night drinking...) Their faces were doing the morph, like the veins would overlay their face, then fade as the shades faded out and their face was colours without outlines... But i could ignore it if i wanted.
Tried to play pool, but while my theorums of 4th dimension quantum geometry allowed me to line up some 'mazing shots. my co-ordination was down to the point where i ...nearly... made one of them.
It's now 4.30 in the evening. And i just spent a coupla' hours writing this to get it fresh, and i'm still mellow, relaxed, and prepared to do more fucked up shit the next time i get the chance.
In summary: I really, really recommend candyflipping, (or as an aus Bluelighter puts it, T'Rolling: trip/ rolling)...BUT...
POINT 1: As i said, it worked really well for me because i REALLY DID NOT CARE. I was not in a healthy state of mind, but i wasn't actually depressed. I've had friend's do the same thing and have horror trips. I'm putting this in coz' i'd feel real bad if someone who was down took my experience to mean it'd cheer them up.
POINT TWO: KNOW YOUR LIMITATIONS. I know a normal mda/mdma pill will not knock me tuesdays and back. I also knew that acid in the single blotter seldom works on me. (And the last time i vowed i'd just sit meself down and chew numerous little buggers until they did.) Actually, knew was too strong a word to use. We seldom know exactly what we're taking. Understand at least a little of your tolerance. If you ain't done pills, take a half, wait to see how it kicks and work up. And vice-versa fer the acid. Unless you want to play roulette.
POINT 3: Don't take any preconceptions in with you. Don't go "oooh, i want the dancy E rush, with a side order of acid visuals, please". You get what you get from the combinations of your body and the chemicals. The analytical aspect to my thinking was unexpected (until i analysed it and realised how acutely we can monitor our own sensory input, of course
, but hell, all i wanted was to feel good and dance.)
And lastly, the usual. Go with friends. Make sure you got at least one good bud who's clued into what you're taking, or likely to.
And watch that dehydration thang. I've hads't me three beers writing this and it's only now that i'm pissing easily and without the sure knowledge i've fried another, probably important, internal organ.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
I realised that i'd never given a baseline as to how the acid affects me, as i didn't know. Well, i had a trip left, picked up another one, and decided i'd better find out so i could complete this report. All for research, of course! I won't make this too long, but at a club last night i dropped 'em.
I got a very jangly rush, not energy, more sensation. Immediately started feeling touch-hyper sensitive (so that's where that came from). My co-ordination/ timing was way out of whack, and i couldn't get it together to dance.
No cruisy visuals. A bit jagged and kept seeing things in my peripheral vision. Could usually ignore it. I find i'm avoiding looking at well lit things, or anything i sharply focus on. Unexpected noises also.
All the lucidity of the last night is gone. I'm enjoying myself watching things, but the analysis engine's been turned off. My attentions more on my internal thoughts. Mildly paranoid because of that. (social anxiety is a bitch... my clothes are wrong aren't they... oh no, what did i just say? Did they take offence? Where the FUCK is that staircase??)
And there was no way i could carry on a conversation. Minute long brain stammers between brain and tongue. That eased off later, but i was still unwilling to talk much. That's a big change.
I'll wait a while and try things round the other way. S'nice having a plan.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Thank you for reading, and have FUN fer cryin' out loud.
[This message has been edited by Psychout (edited 11 February 2001).]
[This message has been edited by Psychout (edited 14 February 2001).]
To start this off, i've actually got to go back two days! Imagine this, you're in Melbourne (Aus) and the day is fuckin' 40 odd degrees, centigrade. The night does not get better, dropping to 28. Can't think, can't sleep, cain't do nuthin' but lie there eyes open trying not to notice the clock. Get up, knowing full well that you'd be lucky to have got a full half hours sleep. Now ya going to work...
That would've been bad enough, but it turned out to be the day from heckers for me. The company i just started working for has no records of me anywhere and thusly are not going to pay me for the last two weeks. In the light morning drizzle my car loses traction on the freeway entrance (going at 20kph) and spins gracefully around four times to settle on the median strip. If it had been rush hour, i would not be writing this... without the aid of a tongue depressor, anyway. Parent's going overseas. Organize their departure, get pets to cattery.
Stalk down pay officers at work. Grumble mightily. Finally, after a combination of standover and gentility, i am rewarded with my pay. Yes!! The night is on!!
Had planned to see aus. band 'Machine Gun Fellatio' and spend the rest of the night larkin' and going to the doof doof clubs...BUT... first cancellations arrive when get home to change.
Got to city and found i'd missed connection with girl i'd really been wanting to see again, and can't find number. Ring the LAST of me mates who agreed to come, and find they're too stoned to move from the bloody couch and travel fifty metres to where the band are playing.
So, to summarize my mood, i am way over-tired, annoyed, and suffering from the BIGGEST energy rush. Must've been the full moon, too.
Had a few drinks, no binging, just a few paced beers (Cooper's Ale in the Grand Prix special cans, for the afficienados) And whilst getting a snack and being a tad preoccupied, walk straight into the closed doors of a Burger King!! KNOW everyone is staring at me wondering how pissed this friday night drunk is. Would've been able to answer clearly, but i've knocked my knee (which is just managed to settle back into it's socket from a sports injury and, yes, i've broken my bloody nose. Again.
Achieve objective of getting back to the pub me mate works at, the juke box, and settle down to a few ice waters and salvaging my pride by beating morons at pool.
Okay, i had to list all this because it all lead to my mood at the time. My mate still, maybe, wanted to go out after his shift. I DID NOT GIVE A FUCK. I was beyond really caring apart from this gutteral instinct not to go home before dawn.
So's he finishes shift and his co-worker tells us he can get us into a club and maybe hook us up with some good pills. If we want. I'm asked. "Why the fuck not?" We go. I go in, pay, get pass out and trot home to change into something not as hot as was wearing.
Get back at: TIME STAMP: 6: 15 am. (and all others are approximations, i'm sorry, i don't carry a watch and still haven't figured out the fucking date.)
Go in. Try to dance. Not good with swollen knee. Tired, fucking sore, mildly depressed and irritated, and my energy rush is long faded. I'm getting annoyed by people walking thru me, being paranoid about who's looking, and SURE everyone thinks i'm a cop. (I get that a lot, probably because i tend to look people in the eye, and i do like asking questions when meet people...i try to tone it down *sigh*)
Catch up with me mate. He's scored us each a coupla'
White Turbo Mitsubishis, which he assures me are a topline version of an older MDMA pill. WHAT THE HELL.
Now, (i gots to give you more background and i am sorry, but we'll get to the meat soon) i'm a literal hyperactive, though now thirty. Lots of pills don't work on me. A ketamine pill that knocked friends out left me feeling... straight. Horribly, no-mind-altering-tinges-of-anything-STRAIGHT.
So i don't use the e-testers myself. I believe them, but what works on them may not on me. Though, i have had a run of good luck on the melbourne scene recently, managing to score Yonnex, Pokemon and Marlboroughs' over the NYE-till-now period.
So's i'll take me chance. Me and mate take a half and crunch, to see how fast t'will kick.
Settle in, let the beats wash over me and try to take a bit of the aggro away.
Within about a half hour (6.45 am) i'm a lot more relaxed. I'm starting to feel a bit lifty and the landscapes moving in a very good way. Yay to me!
At this point we go upstairs for air. Mate tells me his halve's kicking in. We high-five, drop other halves. Grin. Mate talks to his friend who was telling him about 'Pop-Tarts' and what a lovely, clean ride they were giving her. Asked if i could buy one and found out i'd just brought, not a pill like i thought, but a blotter acid. Shit! I've taken many of these over the years, but THEY don't work on me much either. The most i recall is being given a fit of the giggles. Hell. Buffy TVS gives me them! But, as i said before WHAT THE FUCK. an i necked it straight-up.
I'd been told about candy-flipping, but i haven't really read the threads on it here. A friend told me in played down the E and made it last much longer, this was in the back of my mind. But, to be honest, i'd've taken almost anything you put in my hands. I so not wanted to be feeling how i had. It's now abouts 7am or just after.
I go downstairs. Musics GREAT. I'm feeling bloody optimistic for the totality of the moment and just go to freefall.
When i get a good E, i dance for hours, i get pretty chatty and love wandering around talking cod-shite to compleat strangers. Well, that hadn't changed. What i really love about it is the feeling that i am in control. I can do what i want, fucked up or not, because i have the judgement on hand to make the call. Hold back or do it for the hell of it. E to me is like having this wellspring of energy bubbling up from within and it's my choice where to surf the tide.
On the physical effects, my hearing becomes very acute and i tend to 'hear' static on the edges of everything, especially the music and voices (to reproduce this, go put on a room fan and talk into the back. Make zapping sounds. Fun.)I get the eye wiggles and i become pretty touch orientated. The texture of things becomes pretty important, though without any hyper sensitivity.
I felt the rest of the mitsi kick and, MIRACLE! went and danced me arse off. I was recieving no pain from the nose or the knee, and indeed felt more relaxed and fluid. Dance till about 9.30/ 10am and then decide i have to get more acid. Track down someone selling 'em and buy another two. Take one immediately.
Went and danced till near the end of the club. Somebody left their glo-stix, so i kept myself well amused with those, note that i'm getting longer than usual 'streamer effects' from watching them. I think club shuts after 11am closer to 12, so my timing goes out round here. I could've kept dancing. My skin
has this incredible mixture of light sunburn from the day before and the air-conditioning. in the ceiling. I'm shaking from over-exertion and stress, but it all feels good! I'm pretty sure the acid's kicking my mood along. I feel energy filled, incredibly sensual and aware of my body, yet not sexual and still keeping the pain at one remove. And i'm more lucid than normal.
Decide to take break, rest the stress i know i'm gunna pay for later, and see what else has been altered with my perceptions. Fuckin' eye-opener, ey!
I found that my analytical abilities have kicked into overdrive. I read body language pretty well, but this was so intense it was like telepathy. I was reading the moods and relationships of those around me to a high degree. And it's not just the drugs giving me this conceit. You can tell watching people, who want's to sleep with who, and who has a chance, and who knows he don't got none but's still hanging round... You get the idea.
I spent the last however long deciding who were the best dancers at the club and it was fun and beautiful! I don't dance that well meself. Gave several criterion: They had to move fluidily, and in touch with their bodies. They had to be having the MOST fun. They had to be as unselfconcious about it as possible. No preening, no posing. Try it yerself, it can surprise you who you see those connections in.
I was now in the mostest, mellowest, lucid moment i can remember. No harsh edges. I truly believe because i absolutely did not fuckin' care what happened. I had been on a roller-coaster of expectations and dissapointments for a day, and had barely slept in 36 hours. I was going to neck pills and trips and i lived or i didn't live or i spent a few nice, quiet, monthes in the rubber-lined ward while they wait for me to bother putting myself back together. I felt totally free and peaceful, (and believe me i'm gonna treasure it when i sit down and force myself to think about what i spent when rent's due)
We leave the club. Whenever. The daylights out but don't care. We decide to go to pub. Mate didn't take the trips, knows i did. I amuse myself on the journey telling him things that the street signs are saying about him. He tries to figure if i am totally unplaneted, or am having him on. I try to guess how much of each he figures i am... that darned analysis program's still running!
We get to the pub, and things get better again. The lights non-club normal now. I'm totally cruisy but wondering why, while idly staring at the back of my hand, for (don't think of the money) dollars, i didn't get the full, "American Werewolf In London" visuals i get told about. And then i do.
The skin on the back of my hand darkens and moves. Not shapechanging, but subtley redefining itself within the outline of my hand. I start looking around and, yup! Everything's doing the slow mambo. Wallpaper, beer fridge. It's like a slow fantasia.
The analytical ability starts slowing it all down and showing me what's actually happening. As the lights shift the shadows move, and my eyes are blurred enuff by fatigue that i can let the outlines of things 'fuzz'. Then my mind fills in the blanks with what they most look like. Or that things shift themselves to the forward or backward part of my perspective. The colours change, too. I reason this is because, like flesh tones. We see a lot of different colours that make up the colour we call flesh. My analysis editor (what else can i call it) is working with my re-focussing vision to call different parts of the colour to dominance in my vision, the trick is just to relax my eyes. Too cool.
(I read/ was told that the streets look so clean and sparkly on acid. Later on, while trekking around i did notice that. The sharp shadows were washed out of my vision, leaving me with just the colours to look at)
And while doing this, i'm carrying on a coupla' conversations with other people who aren't that clued to what i'm on (jes' put it down to the all night drinking...) Their faces were doing the morph, like the veins would overlay their face, then fade as the shades faded out and their face was colours without outlines... But i could ignore it if i wanted.
Tried to play pool, but while my theorums of 4th dimension quantum geometry allowed me to line up some 'mazing shots. my co-ordination was down to the point where i ...nearly... made one of them.
It's now 4.30 in the evening. And i just spent a coupla' hours writing this to get it fresh, and i'm still mellow, relaxed, and prepared to do more fucked up shit the next time i get the chance.
In summary: I really, really recommend candyflipping, (or as an aus Bluelighter puts it, T'Rolling: trip/ rolling)...BUT...
POINT 1: As i said, it worked really well for me because i REALLY DID NOT CARE. I was not in a healthy state of mind, but i wasn't actually depressed. I've had friend's do the same thing and have horror trips. I'm putting this in coz' i'd feel real bad if someone who was down took my experience to mean it'd cheer them up.
POINT TWO: KNOW YOUR LIMITATIONS. I know a normal mda/mdma pill will not knock me tuesdays and back. I also knew that acid in the single blotter seldom works on me. (And the last time i vowed i'd just sit meself down and chew numerous little buggers until they did.) Actually, knew was too strong a word to use. We seldom know exactly what we're taking. Understand at least a little of your tolerance. If you ain't done pills, take a half, wait to see how it kicks and work up. And vice-versa fer the acid. Unless you want to play roulette.
POINT 3: Don't take any preconceptions in with you. Don't go "oooh, i want the dancy E rush, with a side order of acid visuals, please". You get what you get from the combinations of your body and the chemicals. The analytical aspect to my thinking was unexpected (until i analysed it and realised how acutely we can monitor our own sensory input, of course
And lastly, the usual. Go with friends. Make sure you got at least one good bud who's clued into what you're taking, or likely to.
And watch that dehydration thang. I've hads't me three beers writing this and it's only now that i'm pissing easily and without the sure knowledge i've fried another, probably important, internal organ.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
I realised that i'd never given a baseline as to how the acid affects me, as i didn't know. Well, i had a trip left, picked up another one, and decided i'd better find out so i could complete this report. All for research, of course! I won't make this too long, but at a club last night i dropped 'em.
I got a very jangly rush, not energy, more sensation. Immediately started feeling touch-hyper sensitive (so that's where that came from). My co-ordination/ timing was way out of whack, and i couldn't get it together to dance.
No cruisy visuals. A bit jagged and kept seeing things in my peripheral vision. Could usually ignore it. I find i'm avoiding looking at well lit things, or anything i sharply focus on. Unexpected noises also.
All the lucidity of the last night is gone. I'm enjoying myself watching things, but the analysis engine's been turned off. My attentions more on my internal thoughts. Mildly paranoid because of that. (social anxiety is a bitch... my clothes are wrong aren't they... oh no, what did i just say? Did they take offence? Where the FUCK is that staircase??)
And there was no way i could carry on a conversation. Minute long brain stammers between brain and tongue. That eased off later, but i was still unwilling to talk much. That's a big change.
I'll wait a while and try things round the other way. S'nice having a plan.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Thank you for reading, and have FUN fer cryin' out loud.
[This message has been edited by Psychout (edited 11 February 2001).]
[This message has been edited by Psychout (edited 14 February 2001).]
