TheLoveBandit
Retired Never Was, Coulda been wannabe
This is my first report (for my first non-E experience). I’ll try to stick to the guidelines, but there will some extra info just to try and relate my impressions of the experience. For the record I am about 215 lbs., 5 ft 9.5” tall. My history is that I’ve tried to smoke pot about a dozen times in the last 16 yrs and only gotten sick (no high, not much of anything, other than a three day cough). I’ve been rolling about one pill every 4-6 months for the past 3.5 yrs, and have increased to 1-2 pills every 4-6 weeks since the turn of the year. I had rolled 2 weeks prior to this trip, but only on one pill. This evening, I’d been planning to have my first acid experience – just one hit, to see what it’s like. I wanted to be outdoors (hoping for a spiritual and introspective experience, without getting freaked out by crowds or clubs). As an unplanned part of the evening, I experienced my first whippets, but I’ll get to that in a minute. All times are estimated, as I am writing this 2 days later, and I wasn’t real ‘with it’ during the actual experience.
-------------------------------------------
Friday 14:00 – Eat light lunch of chicken sandwich and fries. Hadn’t eaten since dinner Thursday night.
+++++
Friday 22:00 – Check into hotel with AllStarMaterial (ASM) and Daisybabe. We drop our gear and get ready to head to the party house for my acid trip. Someone pulls out a whippet dispenser, and hands it to me. I’ve never done whippets, never even considered it. But I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. Took my first hit, and just felt like I was holding my breath. I must have swallowed the first one, because the second one definitely hit me. It felt like these squiggly-wiggley things climbed up the back of my scalp from neck to forehead and I had a smile racing to meet it at the top of my head. I knew I had a great big grin from the look Daisybabe gave me and then I fell over with a few giggles.
+++++
Friday 22:30 – Reach the party house located out in the woods near a junkyard. Greeted by Griff and several others (non-BL’ers). We each took one hit of paper acid, and I continued to take hits from the whippets though I have no idea how many canisters I used. I hope not many. There was also beer available, but I was in no mood for alcohol. There was pot being passed around, and while I don’t know how to smoke it, I love the smell and like to sit next to others when they smoke. Somehow, I was talked into trying to smoke again. After some failed attempts, I finally got a few good hits from the pipe. I couldn’t tell you quality based on my limited experience.
+++++
Friday 23:30 to Saturday 02:30 – The temperature outside was about 65-70 F, and I was in shorts and a t-shirt. I normally can’t deal with cold weather very well, but this was manageable. We migrate from the upstairs balcony to a bonfire next to the house and woods. We had brought 4 boxes of whippets (24/box) and I’d guess there was about 3-1/2 boxes left when we moved down to the bonfire. I don’t know how long it took for the acid to kick in, but I never saw the visuals I was hoping for. I had heard of people saying they felt like they urinated on themselves, which I felt several times, and always looked down to verify the facts. I never did pee on myself, but the ‘Damn Urination Sensation’ kept recurring. I’d always look down and the sensation would go away. I also felt like my hands were oily or sweaty, and I kept wiping them on my pants, but that never helped. I was always sniffling. Daisybabe said it was because she was laughing so much it caused our eyes to water and that led to our sniffles somehow. I just kept wiping my nose and sniffling; though it remained dry the whole time. I felt really cold and had the shivers nearly the entire evening. Sometimes, the bonfire felt nice, other times I couldn’t feel it at all. I knew I was close enough to be getting burned, but I still felt cold (perhaps from the whippets?).
Whippets kept getting passed around and I don’t know if I was doing anymore, meaning I didn’t want to but I may have without realizing it. I had a death grip on my bottle of water, hoping that if I didn’t let go of it, the whippet bottle wouldn’t be put in my hands and I wouldn’t do anymore. But I also remember passing the bottle from my right to my left and back and forth, and I also remember they were handing out fresh cartridges, though I didn’t want them and held onto one for what seemed like hours (again, hoping my hands were full and no one would give me another hit of it). Eventually I caught (or imagined) that my three friends were making jokes at my cracked out expense, because I heard them making jokes like where is the beak (the actual whippet canister holder), and jokes about sucking the drug dick, and I also remember putting the handle to my mouth instead of the inhale part (so confused). I heard the comment that I had gotten too high, but didn’t understand how unless I’d continued doing pot and whippets without realizing it. I made a comment to the effect that I can almost catch up with these conversations as they go around the circle, and when I almost catch on the conversation whips back around the other way leaving me confused. I also recall making several jokes, and thinking I was very funny. Everyone would laugh and then go quiet real soon. We’d resume staring at the fire until someone else said something funny, and repeat the process.
Also, I had a period of that horrendous noise that goes “Kerpang-Kerpang-Kerpang” in your head. It’s something only those who experienced it can really relate to, but I got concerned for quite awhile with the need to put it into words. The best I can think of is that the glasses some people wear which refracts lights into a kaleidoscope rainbow, where you know there is a source, but what you receive is scattered and echoed. The Kerpangs where like an auditory form of that. It was horrible, but I kind of expected it. I asked Griff how long this would last and I heard him say 30-40 days and I almost cried. I said ‘Nooooo’ in a very slow and denying way, but it was the only way I could speak. He clarified 3-4 days, but I still wasn’t happy about that. I don’t recall if acid or whippets caused that. I assume the whippets, which means I was still doing them even though I didn’t know it.
Additionally, we moved from the home made pipe to a real, glass one for the weed. I know it kept getting smoked, but I don’t know who was smoking it (I don’t even know if I was). I just know that it kept being re-packing. The non-BL kids didn’t do any acid, just drank a lot and smoked weed, and maybe did a few of the whippets. They went to sleep in the car (don’t know why they didn’t use the house), but they periodically flashed headlights or turn signals which provided great entertainment for us.
+++++
Saturday 03:30 – I feel really out of it. I haven’t tried to move much, and the only thing to watch is the bonfire or the other kids (non-BL’s) who went to sleep in the car. No visuals from people moving, or the fire, or anything. I mean, I saw the logs burning really cool, but I remember that from sober campfires. One said she could see my spoken words as they appeared on a chat screen in front of her, but that was the only visual anyone commented on. Well, Griff said he saw a snake heading my way while we were looking for firewood. I think he was messing with me. I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t move for the next 5 minutes, just to be safe.
I was really disassociated. They kept asking me what I was thinking or doing, and the main thought for the night was to keep breathing. I felt like my throat had restricted to the size of a pencil lead. I didn’t have trouble breathing, because I wasn’t wheezing (that I could hear). But I would periodically take a deep breath and it would make me wonder how long I’d gone without breathing. Then I’d spend a few minutes just concentrating on breathing. Sometimes, I’d try to hold my breath and see what that was like, so I’d know it if I did actually stop breathing, but I couldn’t tell the difference. I was probably breathing fine the whole time, but it became source of concern for me most of the night, and a big relief when I took a deep breath.
Another part of the disassociation was my thought process. My best description was that all my thoughts were pages in a book that somebody had shuffled around. Each page was most of a thought, an incomplete start and it never quite finished, but it made sense within it’s own context. Sometimes, I’d come across the next part of that thought, but it wasn’t flowing, it was at a different time with other thoughts in between. An alternative description would be boxcars on a train. They’d go by fast, and you could grasp most of what was on each boxcar, but there was a noticeable gap between each one and they were all going by singularly, not at once.
I wasn’t comfortable with all this disassociativity, and I started developing some paranoia. I knew I wanted my trip to be with friends I trusted. Griff I trust wholeheartedly and look up to in a drug experience way. Daisybabe and I had spent the last 10 hours together talking and driving up to Atlanta, and we’d talked and chatted some before then, so I was comfortable with her. ASM I picked up at the airport on the way in. Never met him before and never really had much knowledge of him, but if he trusted me enough to pick him up at the airport, I didn’t think I had anything to fear from him. There was a fifth character at the bonfire, ‘Skippy the hippie’ who owned the house we were at. I didn’t know him at all, but knowing Griff wouldn’t put me in a dangerous situation and the fact that he took one of the acid hits, and he was generally kind of ‘all fucked in the head’ to begin with, I trusted him too. Skippy was a minor character, but essential to the experience as he was funny as hell. Everytime I’d focus on my physical being to regain some hold on reality, he’d start talking about something and have us all cracking up laughing. He went to bed about this time, thank goodness.
Time seemed to have slowed way, way down. We kept thinking the sun should be coming up soon, and none of knew which direction was east. I kept thinking the sun would come up, it has to come up … sometime. It felt like the night would never end. Each time I thought it had been a few hours, and we should see the sunrise, I’d check my watch and it had only been about 10 minutes. This repeated about 5-6 times. The others commented on the night lasting real long too.
But the paranoia was unnerving. I started to think this had all been coordinated between my three friends. That they had been emailing and set me up for this. How convenient that Daisybabe just happened to be looking for a ride to the Atlanta show, and we just happened to be arriving in time to pick up ASM at the airport. Forgetting of course that I was the one that initiated and offered to each of them that I could help drive them around, the bottom line was that I was really messed up and they were laughing at me. They didn’t appear to be as lost as I was (granted, they’d all done this before). Anyway, I started extrapolating their behavior into my own fantasy expression of myself. One is my deviance into drugs with quietly hidden intelligence, another was my sociability and friendliness, and the third was my ability to have a good face for my business life and balancing my fun life with business, and Skippy was just pure entertainment – not a reflection of any part of me, just an essential ingredient to a good night. I had to remind myself that I was actually here with three OTHER people, not just projections of myself, and that they chose to be here on their own, not just to screw with me.
Perhaps the only other visual was one time I looked at one of them and his face was blue. In the back of my mind, I knew whippets made your lips blue, but it looked like his whole face had turned blue (in the moonlight and light of the bonfire) and the only way to know he was alive was that he looked at me and cracked a joke. That started a scary episode of thoughts about how this is what I imagine street crack addicts are like (from my naïve whitebread background). Here I am shaking and shivering, unclear as to what drugs I’ve had so far and what may be in my hands now. Looking at all the others make jokes about the drug use. I had no thoughts of my real life, my fiancée, my job, my long term future or hopes and dreams. All thoughts were focused on the here and now. Will this night ever end? Why am I so cold? Which drug is making me feel this way? Is this the experience I’d hoped for? Certainly not, but then again, I didn’t know what to expect. I was scared, and for awhile thought I might have thrown away my entire life for a moment of experimentation that I’d never escape from.
+++++
Saturday 04:30 – Okay the paranoia has passed, but I’m still not happy with the disassociation sensation. I had been watching my truck for the past few hours, thinking that if I could make it to my truck, I’d be taking a step towards reality. I could walk okay, a little slow, but my body remembered how to move me around. I got caught halfway there watching some (real) ducks and the stars. Finally made it to the truck, and sat in the driver’s seat. That’s when I decided I wanted to write some thoughts down in case I couldn’t remember them later. Well, I started by getting out and looking in the back seat for something to write with. Couldn’t find a pen, so I went back in the front seat. I sat there for awhile, just thinking in general, watching the other three up at the bonfire. Then I had that thought again about writing stuff down. Found a pen, then looked for paper in the back seat again – it still wasn’t back there. Got back in the driver’s seat a third time and found paper and started writing. I got hot, so I got out of the car and started writing on the hood. Then I wanted to know what it would be like to listen to some music, so I climbed in the driver’s seat and sat for awhile. I didn’t want the car stereo, for some reason I didn’t want the car on. I knew I had a walkman in the back, so I went to look for it. I forgot what I was looking for while back there so I returned to the bonfire – wanting to share the rest of my time with my friends. They said they enjoyed watching LoveBandit-TV (in the car, out of the car, in a different door, etc).
During the LB-TV episode, I remember wanting to go to sleep in the truck, but I was honestly afraid to fall asleep. I wanted their reassurance that I’d wake up, but then again, I had some paranoia left that wouldn’t let me ask them or believe what they said if I asked. I just decided to stay awake as long as possible, hoping to feel somewhat normal before falling asleep.
+++++
Saturday 05:30 – We’re all coming down and tired, so I drive ASM and Daisybabe back to our hotel for a few hours sleep. I really, only want one thing – for the metallic taste to get out of my mouth. They explain that is from the cheap whippets. I wonder again how many I had. The next day I have no leftover sensations. They complain about a headache, but I don’t feel one. I’m not hungry, and only have a muffin to tide me over until the meet up at Fuddruckers.
-----------------------------------------
They asked during the night if I was having a good time. I said yes, despite the fears. I recall stating that there were a lot of things I was afraid I’d never remember, and so I asked them to remember for me. Then I said there are also a lot of (scary) things I was afraid I’d never forget, but looking back, that is the way I’d want it. There was a lot of fun, and new experiences that I never imagined and that was the point – to try something new. Fears were to be an expected part of it, but not fears that I could control. They asked if I’d do it again, and I told them the truth, “Let me survive this night, gain some perspective, and then I’d answer the question.” If I could comeout and see how it was in retrospect, I could give a better evaluation. My sober opinion now is that I might try whippets again sometime, though by themselves (or after/during rolling since I’m very comfortable with that). I may try acid again, though absolutely by itself, so I can discern it’s effects on me. Do I regret it? No, not really. I got what I asked for, but not what I expected, and that was the whole point.
I ask in closing that my friends (Griff, Daisybabe, and AllStarMaterial) not take offense to anything I said. I love each of them dearly, and hope to have more fun with them in the future. I thank them for their patience with me and for sharing the experience. I also ask them to comment here and clarify anything I may have missed such as HOW MANY drugs did I really take? Inquiring minds still wonder.
------------------
"Sometimes the best way to get someone to change is to become them for a minute." - Thanks liquidocean
[This message has been edited by TheLoveBandit (edited 15 May 2001).]
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Friday 14:00 – Eat light lunch of chicken sandwich and fries. Hadn’t eaten since dinner Thursday night.
+++++
Friday 22:00 – Check into hotel with AllStarMaterial (ASM) and Daisybabe. We drop our gear and get ready to head to the party house for my acid trip. Someone pulls out a whippet dispenser, and hands it to me. I’ve never done whippets, never even considered it. But I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. Took my first hit, and just felt like I was holding my breath. I must have swallowed the first one, because the second one definitely hit me. It felt like these squiggly-wiggley things climbed up the back of my scalp from neck to forehead and I had a smile racing to meet it at the top of my head. I knew I had a great big grin from the look Daisybabe gave me and then I fell over with a few giggles.
+++++
Friday 22:30 – Reach the party house located out in the woods near a junkyard. Greeted by Griff and several others (non-BL’ers). We each took one hit of paper acid, and I continued to take hits from the whippets though I have no idea how many canisters I used. I hope not many. There was also beer available, but I was in no mood for alcohol. There was pot being passed around, and while I don’t know how to smoke it, I love the smell and like to sit next to others when they smoke. Somehow, I was talked into trying to smoke again. After some failed attempts, I finally got a few good hits from the pipe. I couldn’t tell you quality based on my limited experience.
+++++
Friday 23:30 to Saturday 02:30 – The temperature outside was about 65-70 F, and I was in shorts and a t-shirt. I normally can’t deal with cold weather very well, but this was manageable. We migrate from the upstairs balcony to a bonfire next to the house and woods. We had brought 4 boxes of whippets (24/box) and I’d guess there was about 3-1/2 boxes left when we moved down to the bonfire. I don’t know how long it took for the acid to kick in, but I never saw the visuals I was hoping for. I had heard of people saying they felt like they urinated on themselves, which I felt several times, and always looked down to verify the facts. I never did pee on myself, but the ‘Damn Urination Sensation’ kept recurring. I’d always look down and the sensation would go away. I also felt like my hands were oily or sweaty, and I kept wiping them on my pants, but that never helped. I was always sniffling. Daisybabe said it was because she was laughing so much it caused our eyes to water and that led to our sniffles somehow. I just kept wiping my nose and sniffling; though it remained dry the whole time. I felt really cold and had the shivers nearly the entire evening. Sometimes, the bonfire felt nice, other times I couldn’t feel it at all. I knew I was close enough to be getting burned, but I still felt cold (perhaps from the whippets?).
Whippets kept getting passed around and I don’t know if I was doing anymore, meaning I didn’t want to but I may have without realizing it. I had a death grip on my bottle of water, hoping that if I didn’t let go of it, the whippet bottle wouldn’t be put in my hands and I wouldn’t do anymore. But I also remember passing the bottle from my right to my left and back and forth, and I also remember they were handing out fresh cartridges, though I didn’t want them and held onto one for what seemed like hours (again, hoping my hands were full and no one would give me another hit of it). Eventually I caught (or imagined) that my three friends were making jokes at my cracked out expense, because I heard them making jokes like where is the beak (the actual whippet canister holder), and jokes about sucking the drug dick, and I also remember putting the handle to my mouth instead of the inhale part (so confused). I heard the comment that I had gotten too high, but didn’t understand how unless I’d continued doing pot and whippets without realizing it. I made a comment to the effect that I can almost catch up with these conversations as they go around the circle, and when I almost catch on the conversation whips back around the other way leaving me confused. I also recall making several jokes, and thinking I was very funny. Everyone would laugh and then go quiet real soon. We’d resume staring at the fire until someone else said something funny, and repeat the process.
Also, I had a period of that horrendous noise that goes “Kerpang-Kerpang-Kerpang” in your head. It’s something only those who experienced it can really relate to, but I got concerned for quite awhile with the need to put it into words. The best I can think of is that the glasses some people wear which refracts lights into a kaleidoscope rainbow, where you know there is a source, but what you receive is scattered and echoed. The Kerpangs where like an auditory form of that. It was horrible, but I kind of expected it. I asked Griff how long this would last and I heard him say 30-40 days and I almost cried. I said ‘Nooooo’ in a very slow and denying way, but it was the only way I could speak. He clarified 3-4 days, but I still wasn’t happy about that. I don’t recall if acid or whippets caused that. I assume the whippets, which means I was still doing them even though I didn’t know it.
Additionally, we moved from the home made pipe to a real, glass one for the weed. I know it kept getting smoked, but I don’t know who was smoking it (I don’t even know if I was). I just know that it kept being re-packing. The non-BL kids didn’t do any acid, just drank a lot and smoked weed, and maybe did a few of the whippets. They went to sleep in the car (don’t know why they didn’t use the house), but they periodically flashed headlights or turn signals which provided great entertainment for us.
+++++
Saturday 03:30 – I feel really out of it. I haven’t tried to move much, and the only thing to watch is the bonfire or the other kids (non-BL’s) who went to sleep in the car. No visuals from people moving, or the fire, or anything. I mean, I saw the logs burning really cool, but I remember that from sober campfires. One said she could see my spoken words as they appeared on a chat screen in front of her, but that was the only visual anyone commented on. Well, Griff said he saw a snake heading my way while we were looking for firewood. I think he was messing with me. I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t move for the next 5 minutes, just to be safe.
I was really disassociated. They kept asking me what I was thinking or doing, and the main thought for the night was to keep breathing. I felt like my throat had restricted to the size of a pencil lead. I didn’t have trouble breathing, because I wasn’t wheezing (that I could hear). But I would periodically take a deep breath and it would make me wonder how long I’d gone without breathing. Then I’d spend a few minutes just concentrating on breathing. Sometimes, I’d try to hold my breath and see what that was like, so I’d know it if I did actually stop breathing, but I couldn’t tell the difference. I was probably breathing fine the whole time, but it became source of concern for me most of the night, and a big relief when I took a deep breath.
Another part of the disassociation was my thought process. My best description was that all my thoughts were pages in a book that somebody had shuffled around. Each page was most of a thought, an incomplete start and it never quite finished, but it made sense within it’s own context. Sometimes, I’d come across the next part of that thought, but it wasn’t flowing, it was at a different time with other thoughts in between. An alternative description would be boxcars on a train. They’d go by fast, and you could grasp most of what was on each boxcar, but there was a noticeable gap between each one and they were all going by singularly, not at once.
I wasn’t comfortable with all this disassociativity, and I started developing some paranoia. I knew I wanted my trip to be with friends I trusted. Griff I trust wholeheartedly and look up to in a drug experience way. Daisybabe and I had spent the last 10 hours together talking and driving up to Atlanta, and we’d talked and chatted some before then, so I was comfortable with her. ASM I picked up at the airport on the way in. Never met him before and never really had much knowledge of him, but if he trusted me enough to pick him up at the airport, I didn’t think I had anything to fear from him. There was a fifth character at the bonfire, ‘Skippy the hippie’ who owned the house we were at. I didn’t know him at all, but knowing Griff wouldn’t put me in a dangerous situation and the fact that he took one of the acid hits, and he was generally kind of ‘all fucked in the head’ to begin with, I trusted him too. Skippy was a minor character, but essential to the experience as he was funny as hell. Everytime I’d focus on my physical being to regain some hold on reality, he’d start talking about something and have us all cracking up laughing. He went to bed about this time, thank goodness.
Time seemed to have slowed way, way down. We kept thinking the sun should be coming up soon, and none of knew which direction was east. I kept thinking the sun would come up, it has to come up … sometime. It felt like the night would never end. Each time I thought it had been a few hours, and we should see the sunrise, I’d check my watch and it had only been about 10 minutes. This repeated about 5-6 times. The others commented on the night lasting real long too.
But the paranoia was unnerving. I started to think this had all been coordinated between my three friends. That they had been emailing and set me up for this. How convenient that Daisybabe just happened to be looking for a ride to the Atlanta show, and we just happened to be arriving in time to pick up ASM at the airport. Forgetting of course that I was the one that initiated and offered to each of them that I could help drive them around, the bottom line was that I was really messed up and they were laughing at me. They didn’t appear to be as lost as I was (granted, they’d all done this before). Anyway, I started extrapolating their behavior into my own fantasy expression of myself. One is my deviance into drugs with quietly hidden intelligence, another was my sociability and friendliness, and the third was my ability to have a good face for my business life and balancing my fun life with business, and Skippy was just pure entertainment – not a reflection of any part of me, just an essential ingredient to a good night. I had to remind myself that I was actually here with three OTHER people, not just projections of myself, and that they chose to be here on their own, not just to screw with me.
Perhaps the only other visual was one time I looked at one of them and his face was blue. In the back of my mind, I knew whippets made your lips blue, but it looked like his whole face had turned blue (in the moonlight and light of the bonfire) and the only way to know he was alive was that he looked at me and cracked a joke. That started a scary episode of thoughts about how this is what I imagine street crack addicts are like (from my naïve whitebread background). Here I am shaking and shivering, unclear as to what drugs I’ve had so far and what may be in my hands now. Looking at all the others make jokes about the drug use. I had no thoughts of my real life, my fiancée, my job, my long term future or hopes and dreams. All thoughts were focused on the here and now. Will this night ever end? Why am I so cold? Which drug is making me feel this way? Is this the experience I’d hoped for? Certainly not, but then again, I didn’t know what to expect. I was scared, and for awhile thought I might have thrown away my entire life for a moment of experimentation that I’d never escape from.
+++++
Saturday 04:30 – Okay the paranoia has passed, but I’m still not happy with the disassociation sensation. I had been watching my truck for the past few hours, thinking that if I could make it to my truck, I’d be taking a step towards reality. I could walk okay, a little slow, but my body remembered how to move me around. I got caught halfway there watching some (real) ducks and the stars. Finally made it to the truck, and sat in the driver’s seat. That’s when I decided I wanted to write some thoughts down in case I couldn’t remember them later. Well, I started by getting out and looking in the back seat for something to write with. Couldn’t find a pen, so I went back in the front seat. I sat there for awhile, just thinking in general, watching the other three up at the bonfire. Then I had that thought again about writing stuff down. Found a pen, then looked for paper in the back seat again – it still wasn’t back there. Got back in the driver’s seat a third time and found paper and started writing. I got hot, so I got out of the car and started writing on the hood. Then I wanted to know what it would be like to listen to some music, so I climbed in the driver’s seat and sat for awhile. I didn’t want the car stereo, for some reason I didn’t want the car on. I knew I had a walkman in the back, so I went to look for it. I forgot what I was looking for while back there so I returned to the bonfire – wanting to share the rest of my time with my friends. They said they enjoyed watching LoveBandit-TV (in the car, out of the car, in a different door, etc).
During the LB-TV episode, I remember wanting to go to sleep in the truck, but I was honestly afraid to fall asleep. I wanted their reassurance that I’d wake up, but then again, I had some paranoia left that wouldn’t let me ask them or believe what they said if I asked. I just decided to stay awake as long as possible, hoping to feel somewhat normal before falling asleep.
+++++
Saturday 05:30 – We’re all coming down and tired, so I drive ASM and Daisybabe back to our hotel for a few hours sleep. I really, only want one thing – for the metallic taste to get out of my mouth. They explain that is from the cheap whippets. I wonder again how many I had. The next day I have no leftover sensations. They complain about a headache, but I don’t feel one. I’m not hungry, and only have a muffin to tide me over until the meet up at Fuddruckers.
-----------------------------------------
They asked during the night if I was having a good time. I said yes, despite the fears. I recall stating that there were a lot of things I was afraid I’d never remember, and so I asked them to remember for me. Then I said there are also a lot of (scary) things I was afraid I’d never forget, but looking back, that is the way I’d want it. There was a lot of fun, and new experiences that I never imagined and that was the point – to try something new. Fears were to be an expected part of it, but not fears that I could control. They asked if I’d do it again, and I told them the truth, “Let me survive this night, gain some perspective, and then I’d answer the question.” If I could comeout and see how it was in retrospect, I could give a better evaluation. My sober opinion now is that I might try whippets again sometime, though by themselves (or after/during rolling since I’m very comfortable with that). I may try acid again, though absolutely by itself, so I can discern it’s effects on me. Do I regret it? No, not really. I got what I asked for, but not what I expected, and that was the whole point.
I ask in closing that my friends (Griff, Daisybabe, and AllStarMaterial) not take offense to anything I said. I love each of them dearly, and hope to have more fun with them in the future. I thank them for their patience with me and for sharing the experience. I also ask them to comment here and clarify anything I may have missed such as HOW MANY drugs did I really take? Inquiring minds still wonder.
------------------
"Sometimes the best way to get someone to change is to become them for a minute." - Thanks liquidocean
[This message has been edited by TheLoveBandit (edited 15 May 2001).]
