inonzi_prowler
Bluelighter
Low Experience - Hectic night (MDxx pills)
This is my first ever trip report, have never really been keen to tell people about them but recently have been filled with this very strong urge to express myself, and what better way, in my opinion, than a trip report (seeing as I really, really enjoy drugs).
First off, a little background: At the time of this trip, I was 17 years old, still at boarding school. My routine at boarding school consisted of spending my three-weekly stint hanging out with my best friend, T, devising ways of earning us enough money to get pills for our once-every-three-weeks weekend out of school. Pretty much everyone at school went clubbing, but we were the only ones, at that time, who took pills (very conservative place, Zimbabwe is)
After a particularly good 3 weeks (we had just started a CD-Burning business) my parents informed me that they were going away for the weekend and asked me if I wouldn’t mind house sitting. I obviously agreed. T and I had enough money to buy 2 pills each and we promptly phoned our dealer for a delivery. He, as usual, informed us that these were the best pills ever blah blah and we played the enthusiastic little suburban pill-kid thing and made all the right yippee noises. Little did we know….
Rest of the day was spent on the phone, getting people over for my first pill-party (we had only ever taken in a club environment before).
At about 6pm, we had a braai (colloquial for barbecue) and some drinks. At this stage there were about 30 people present. Good people all of them, most would be doing weed and about half would be taking pills during the night (from other schools).
T and I dropped our first at around 8pm, in a really good mood. The party was going swimmingly, no-one was too drunk, or too high, everyone was having fun. We had bought one cap and one pill each (blue Armanis). We chewed our caps up, screwing our faces up at that oh-so-horrible yet oh-so-faaantastic taste. We were up in 30 mins and wow, what a great feeling. We explored the house (my folks have a huge house) going into every nook and cranny, appreciating all the memories we had had at that particular place. It was so much fun, hilarious, I wanted the moment to last forever. I had this sort of lucid dream/notion that we could get the last six months of our lives and just live them forever; just looping the same amazing experiences (on and off drugs) over and over again. This was escapism at its purest. I was filled with this overwhelming love for T. Even though I think that most of the time the love you feel whilst under the influence of materials is insincere and false, I realised that the drug was allowing me to express feelings that my machismo normally suppressed in ordinary life. I thought of all the times T had come through for me, and I for him. We talked about how we never ‘kept score’ with each other as how we did with most other friends and lots of other really deep things. We ended up in the main lounge, which I was hardly ever allowed to take friends into, which I had prepared as a hard-core tripping room. The floor was mattresses and couches, I had set up 3 PC’s running really trippy visualizations and had 4 lava lamps going in there. Lights were off and there was a drinks tray in there also. Really trippy ambient music was being played at low volume. Pure heaven. It seemed like a good idea to fix a drink so we had a vodka, orange and sprite each. It was a normal shot of vodka in a big glass so it seemed okay and with these drinks we washed down the second pill. We chatted for another 30 mins with the other people who were tripping in the room and then I just totally shot up, unable to hold a conversation with much success. I excused myself from the group and went into a corner to trip.
Jeeeeeeez it was a mind blowing feeling. A soul orgasm is the closest thing in the English language I have to describe it. I decided to dig into my mind and analyse all the bad things that had happened over the years. I felt I needed to bring them up in this state, to see them from another perspective. I realised that I had a very privileged upbringing but some really shit things had happened (there has been a lot of death in my family). I thought about my father’s death and how it had happened. I had never cried at the time and I began to now (I was seven at the time). It was one of the most cathartic experiences of my life. In the middle of this, T came up to me and asked if I was okay (I wasn’t sobbing loudly, there were just tears and sniffing). I said I was and would explain later. All of a sudden, a dream that I had been having a lot recently but had never been able to clearly remember came to life behind my closed eyes in brilliant Technicolor. In the dream, I was a young boy of seven again. It around Christmas time, the time of my father’s death. In fact it was the day that he was supposed to come home, but didn’t. I was who I am now (i.e. I had all the knowledge that I have now) but was stuck in my physical young self. At 6pm (dad’s coming home time) the gate rolls open and my dad drives up the driveway, as per usual. I am overcome by an indescribable emotion, euphoric and very sad at the same time. I run up to the car and wrap myself around my dad’s leg, so happy to see him again. My mother, as was her routine, comes out to the car to greet him. I ask my dad what is going on… where has he been…. Is he proud of who I have become? He doesn’t answer my questions, he just asks if I’m feeling okay and what has come over me. My mum and dad look at me kind of funny and all I can say is ‘Dad, dad please answer me, are you proud of me?’ ‘Dad, where have you been?’ ‘Why did you leave us?’ ‘What is happening?’ and all my mum and him say are ‘Are you feeling okay?’. This is an intensely frustrating feeling, believe me. This, I know is where I always wake up and I think that maybe, I will get an answer this time. I don’t and my brain shifts to my next repressed memory. This continues for quite a while and a lot of things come to surface, but I won’t go into detail here.
These ‘re-enactments’ were very film like (I felt very much like an observer rather than a participant) and in the middle of the last one, the ‘projector’ in my head just froze and a question was suddenly imprinted in my mind – ‘what if I go further’. Why not? This was fun….
Now, my visuals consisted of huge panoramas of colour, mainly of shades of red and blue. I took these to be the emotions that drive me; the blues were the relaxed, loving ones – benign and somewhat sedentary. The red ones were the angry, strong desires – they were ever fluid and always trying to oust their blue counterparts for space. Interspersed were flashes of white colour that popped up every now and again. I had no idea what these were and regarded these with curiosity. They did not seem to be a part of my psyche – were they ‘pieces’ of god perhaps? Whatever they were they had a strange cold feeling to them. I felt as if they were draining something from me, I was merely energy for them, being fed to an immense machine that was powered by human emotion (god????). This experience disconcerted me somewhat and I felt myself becoming grounded in reality again. It was as if I had some power to bring myself in and out of this state (I was just coming down I think!).
The intense euphoria was back and I decided it was time to interact socially again. I came out of my state and found myself in the back garden, with no idea of how I’d got there. I went back to the lounge and went over to T, he had no idea I had even left the room and so how I got outside remains a mystery to this day. He suggested we headed off to the club nearby. I enquired if it would still be open at this time (I perceived it to be 3 or 4 in the morning). ‘Of course’, he said, ‘it’s only getting kicking now’. I enquired what the time was and was informed it was around midnight. Jesus, this trip was getting extreme. We drank a whole wack of water and from somewhere another pill materialised (we found it in the kitchen, another Armani) and although this was very odd for us, (good pills are expensive and rare where we come from so extra pills generally tend not to just materialize like this) we dropped a half each. We then proceeded to collect a band of merry followers and piled them into my car. (I know it was stupid to drive, but again, it seemed like a good idea at the time). At this point in the evening most people were leaving the party to head to the club, the only people left were the passed-out drunkards.
The club was really kicking when we got there so I headed str8 to the dancefloor as I was coming up on the last half (this was the most I had ever done). I was not too messy at this point and was dancing quite normally when another of the huge ‘waves’ of drug intoxication hit me. I went into a total trance, flowing perfectly to the music to the point where I did not know whether the music was moving me, or I was moving the music. I have always loved dancing but tonight was different. I felt as if every molecule in my body was vibrating to 135bpm (or whatever it was at the time), and were in turn causing the whole universe to move at 135bpm. The build-ups of the songs (it was a trance club) welled up great emotions in me (depending on whether the song was sad or happy) which came crashing down into my arms and legs when the beat started again. I now understood why humans had been doing this for thousands of years. But it did not feel old, or tired, or even prescriptive – like organised religion had always felt to me. This time, there was no book or priest between me and whatever else is out there. It was just me and It. The Dance and I. Just as our hearts beat, so I danced. It was without any conscious effort. I was merely reacting to the external stimulus without thinking, it was a reflex. And boy, was that a trip. My mind again drifted and in this state I totally disconnected from reality. I slowly began to come back, lamenting the passing of this blissful state and got out of my trance with a start when I noticed how wet I was with sweat. It was like I had jumped into a swimming pool and just got out. I staggered to the bar, slightly disorientated and ordered 4 bottles of water, and drank two in about 1 minute. T and some friends came over and commented on how much I needed that water. I asked T if I had looked stupid whilst dancing (I am very self-conscious). He said no, but I’m not sure if he was telling a white lie or not.
After the water, the peak was clearly over, but unlike most times when I start coming down, I was filled with a feeling of satisfaction. This trip had taught me so much up to this point and what I was looking forward to was the time afterwards to reflect. We spent the rest of the evening talking to chicks, trying to score but eventually ended up bullshitting some girls that we were I.T. pros (specializing in securing large and complex networks, no doubt) from the USA who were on a trip around the world. Apparently, we had just come from Tibet where we had met the dalai lhama and had meditated for three days under a waterfall. Being the back-country Zimbabwean girls they were (Apple-Sourz fans and all) they lapped it up like starving kittens – “Wooooow, reallllly, that’s sooooo cooool’. Our stories were watertight; we were really ‘flowing’ with each other and put on a really good show, perfect accents and all. There was no way we were going to try score these chicks, it just wouldn’t be right (anyways dumb chicks are a turn-off). We bid our goodbyes (they seemed disappointed that we didn’t invite them back to our hotel room) and left.
I went home, took my post-load and proceeded to have the best sleep ever.
This was the best trip I had ever had but surprisingly, I had another one similar a few months later. I have had four since; they always seem to happen when I start thinking I’ll never have another one again. Other than that, my e trips are very standard but every once in a while, I have a ‘gem’ experience like this. Funnily enough, all five have happened when alcohol has been consumed during, or just before the trip. Not a large amount of alcohol mind you, the most is about two shots of vodka. I have tried to get my friends to try it but booze just really fucks them up whilst tripping. They just get all messy don’t enjoy it too much. I definitely don’t making drinking while tripping a habit though, I know it can be dangerous but I think it can help to loosen me up sometimes if things are a bit tense.
Thanks for reading this people, it turned into a bit of a novel. Depending if anyone liked it, I may post more. Thanks again.
Peace.
Inonzi_prowler
[ 24 February 2003: Message edited by: inonzi_prowler ]
This is my first ever trip report, have never really been keen to tell people about them but recently have been filled with this very strong urge to express myself, and what better way, in my opinion, than a trip report (seeing as I really, really enjoy drugs).
First off, a little background: At the time of this trip, I was 17 years old, still at boarding school. My routine at boarding school consisted of spending my three-weekly stint hanging out with my best friend, T, devising ways of earning us enough money to get pills for our once-every-three-weeks weekend out of school. Pretty much everyone at school went clubbing, but we were the only ones, at that time, who took pills (very conservative place, Zimbabwe is)
After a particularly good 3 weeks (we had just started a CD-Burning business) my parents informed me that they were going away for the weekend and asked me if I wouldn’t mind house sitting. I obviously agreed. T and I had enough money to buy 2 pills each and we promptly phoned our dealer for a delivery. He, as usual, informed us that these were the best pills ever blah blah and we played the enthusiastic little suburban pill-kid thing and made all the right yippee noises. Little did we know….
Rest of the day was spent on the phone, getting people over for my first pill-party (we had only ever taken in a club environment before).
At about 6pm, we had a braai (colloquial for barbecue) and some drinks. At this stage there were about 30 people present. Good people all of them, most would be doing weed and about half would be taking pills during the night (from other schools).
T and I dropped our first at around 8pm, in a really good mood. The party was going swimmingly, no-one was too drunk, or too high, everyone was having fun. We had bought one cap and one pill each (blue Armanis). We chewed our caps up, screwing our faces up at that oh-so-horrible yet oh-so-faaantastic taste. We were up in 30 mins and wow, what a great feeling. We explored the house (my folks have a huge house) going into every nook and cranny, appreciating all the memories we had had at that particular place. It was so much fun, hilarious, I wanted the moment to last forever. I had this sort of lucid dream/notion that we could get the last six months of our lives and just live them forever; just looping the same amazing experiences (on and off drugs) over and over again. This was escapism at its purest. I was filled with this overwhelming love for T. Even though I think that most of the time the love you feel whilst under the influence of materials is insincere and false, I realised that the drug was allowing me to express feelings that my machismo normally suppressed in ordinary life. I thought of all the times T had come through for me, and I for him. We talked about how we never ‘kept score’ with each other as how we did with most other friends and lots of other really deep things. We ended up in the main lounge, which I was hardly ever allowed to take friends into, which I had prepared as a hard-core tripping room. The floor was mattresses and couches, I had set up 3 PC’s running really trippy visualizations and had 4 lava lamps going in there. Lights were off and there was a drinks tray in there also. Really trippy ambient music was being played at low volume. Pure heaven. It seemed like a good idea to fix a drink so we had a vodka, orange and sprite each. It was a normal shot of vodka in a big glass so it seemed okay and with these drinks we washed down the second pill. We chatted for another 30 mins with the other people who were tripping in the room and then I just totally shot up, unable to hold a conversation with much success. I excused myself from the group and went into a corner to trip.
Jeeeeeeez it was a mind blowing feeling. A soul orgasm is the closest thing in the English language I have to describe it. I decided to dig into my mind and analyse all the bad things that had happened over the years. I felt I needed to bring them up in this state, to see them from another perspective. I realised that I had a very privileged upbringing but some really shit things had happened (there has been a lot of death in my family). I thought about my father’s death and how it had happened. I had never cried at the time and I began to now (I was seven at the time). It was one of the most cathartic experiences of my life. In the middle of this, T came up to me and asked if I was okay (I wasn’t sobbing loudly, there were just tears and sniffing). I said I was and would explain later. All of a sudden, a dream that I had been having a lot recently but had never been able to clearly remember came to life behind my closed eyes in brilliant Technicolor. In the dream, I was a young boy of seven again. It around Christmas time, the time of my father’s death. In fact it was the day that he was supposed to come home, but didn’t. I was who I am now (i.e. I had all the knowledge that I have now) but was stuck in my physical young self. At 6pm (dad’s coming home time) the gate rolls open and my dad drives up the driveway, as per usual. I am overcome by an indescribable emotion, euphoric and very sad at the same time. I run up to the car and wrap myself around my dad’s leg, so happy to see him again. My mother, as was her routine, comes out to the car to greet him. I ask my dad what is going on… where has he been…. Is he proud of who I have become? He doesn’t answer my questions, he just asks if I’m feeling okay and what has come over me. My mum and dad look at me kind of funny and all I can say is ‘Dad, dad please answer me, are you proud of me?’ ‘Dad, where have you been?’ ‘Why did you leave us?’ ‘What is happening?’ and all my mum and him say are ‘Are you feeling okay?’. This is an intensely frustrating feeling, believe me. This, I know is where I always wake up and I think that maybe, I will get an answer this time. I don’t and my brain shifts to my next repressed memory. This continues for quite a while and a lot of things come to surface, but I won’t go into detail here.
These ‘re-enactments’ were very film like (I felt very much like an observer rather than a participant) and in the middle of the last one, the ‘projector’ in my head just froze and a question was suddenly imprinted in my mind – ‘what if I go further’. Why not? This was fun….
Now, my visuals consisted of huge panoramas of colour, mainly of shades of red and blue. I took these to be the emotions that drive me; the blues were the relaxed, loving ones – benign and somewhat sedentary. The red ones were the angry, strong desires – they were ever fluid and always trying to oust their blue counterparts for space. Interspersed were flashes of white colour that popped up every now and again. I had no idea what these were and regarded these with curiosity. They did not seem to be a part of my psyche – were they ‘pieces’ of god perhaps? Whatever they were they had a strange cold feeling to them. I felt as if they were draining something from me, I was merely energy for them, being fed to an immense machine that was powered by human emotion (god????). This experience disconcerted me somewhat and I felt myself becoming grounded in reality again. It was as if I had some power to bring myself in and out of this state (I was just coming down I think!).
The intense euphoria was back and I decided it was time to interact socially again. I came out of my state and found myself in the back garden, with no idea of how I’d got there. I went back to the lounge and went over to T, he had no idea I had even left the room and so how I got outside remains a mystery to this day. He suggested we headed off to the club nearby. I enquired if it would still be open at this time (I perceived it to be 3 or 4 in the morning). ‘Of course’, he said, ‘it’s only getting kicking now’. I enquired what the time was and was informed it was around midnight. Jesus, this trip was getting extreme. We drank a whole wack of water and from somewhere another pill materialised (we found it in the kitchen, another Armani) and although this was very odd for us, (good pills are expensive and rare where we come from so extra pills generally tend not to just materialize like this) we dropped a half each. We then proceeded to collect a band of merry followers and piled them into my car. (I know it was stupid to drive, but again, it seemed like a good idea at the time). At this point in the evening most people were leaving the party to head to the club, the only people left were the passed-out drunkards.
The club was really kicking when we got there so I headed str8 to the dancefloor as I was coming up on the last half (this was the most I had ever done). I was not too messy at this point and was dancing quite normally when another of the huge ‘waves’ of drug intoxication hit me. I went into a total trance, flowing perfectly to the music to the point where I did not know whether the music was moving me, or I was moving the music. I have always loved dancing but tonight was different. I felt as if every molecule in my body was vibrating to 135bpm (or whatever it was at the time), and were in turn causing the whole universe to move at 135bpm. The build-ups of the songs (it was a trance club) welled up great emotions in me (depending on whether the song was sad or happy) which came crashing down into my arms and legs when the beat started again. I now understood why humans had been doing this for thousands of years. But it did not feel old, or tired, or even prescriptive – like organised religion had always felt to me. This time, there was no book or priest between me and whatever else is out there. It was just me and It. The Dance and I. Just as our hearts beat, so I danced. It was without any conscious effort. I was merely reacting to the external stimulus without thinking, it was a reflex. And boy, was that a trip. My mind again drifted and in this state I totally disconnected from reality. I slowly began to come back, lamenting the passing of this blissful state and got out of my trance with a start when I noticed how wet I was with sweat. It was like I had jumped into a swimming pool and just got out. I staggered to the bar, slightly disorientated and ordered 4 bottles of water, and drank two in about 1 minute. T and some friends came over and commented on how much I needed that water. I asked T if I had looked stupid whilst dancing (I am very self-conscious). He said no, but I’m not sure if he was telling a white lie or not.
After the water, the peak was clearly over, but unlike most times when I start coming down, I was filled with a feeling of satisfaction. This trip had taught me so much up to this point and what I was looking forward to was the time afterwards to reflect. We spent the rest of the evening talking to chicks, trying to score but eventually ended up bullshitting some girls that we were I.T. pros (specializing in securing large and complex networks, no doubt) from the USA who were on a trip around the world. Apparently, we had just come from Tibet where we had met the dalai lhama and had meditated for three days under a waterfall. Being the back-country Zimbabwean girls they were (Apple-Sourz fans and all) they lapped it up like starving kittens – “Wooooow, reallllly, that’s sooooo cooool’. Our stories were watertight; we were really ‘flowing’ with each other and put on a really good show, perfect accents and all. There was no way we were going to try score these chicks, it just wouldn’t be right (anyways dumb chicks are a turn-off). We bid our goodbyes (they seemed disappointed that we didn’t invite them back to our hotel room) and left.
I went home, took my post-load and proceeded to have the best sleep ever.
This was the best trip I had ever had but surprisingly, I had another one similar a few months later. I have had four since; they always seem to happen when I start thinking I’ll never have another one again. Other than that, my e trips are very standard but every once in a while, I have a ‘gem’ experience like this. Funnily enough, all five have happened when alcohol has been consumed during, or just before the trip. Not a large amount of alcohol mind you, the most is about two shots of vodka. I have tried to get my friends to try it but booze just really fucks them up whilst tripping. They just get all messy don’t enjoy it too much. I definitely don’t making drinking while tripping a habit though, I know it can be dangerous but I think it can help to loosen me up sometimes if things are a bit tense.
Thanks for reading this people, it turned into a bit of a novel. Depending if anyone liked it, I may post more. Thanks again.
Peace.
Inonzi_prowler
[ 24 February 2003: Message edited by: inonzi_prowler ]
