ForEverAfter
Ex-Bluelighter
Trip Report
Starring: LSD & DXM
with guest appearances from: Psilocybin, Cannabis, Mescaline & N2O
Starring: LSD & DXM
with guest appearances from: Psilocybin, Cannabis, Mescaline & N2O
+0:00 – woke up hungry, purposely didn’t eat breakfast. Enrolled in university.
+1:00 – smoked small joint, containing roughly 0.1 grams Cannabis
+1:30 – consumed two gel caps, each containing roughly 0.32 grams dried Psilocybe Subaeruginosa
+3:00 – consumed 50 ml of San Pedro cactus juice, containing an estimated 50 mgs of Mescaline
+3:15 – consumed 25 ml of Robotussin Dry Cough Forte, containing 75 mg of DXM HBi
+3:25 – consumed 100 gram slice of raw San Pedro cactus, containing an estimated 50 mgs of Mescaline. I’ve never attempted to eat raw cactus before. It’s kind of like eating bitter celery. The taste is much less when compared to the highly-concentrated cactus juice alternative.
I’ve been leaning towards shamanistic practices. These tribal people, they used to be more in touch with the drug. They didn’t care what it tasted like. For them, Mescaline (and various other substances) were gifts from God. A bitter taste was a small price to pay for such wonders.
Now, chemistry has enabled drug users to consume all sorts of weird and wonderful substances without having to endure the often unpleasant ingestion process. That is why the cactus tastes so bad; because a lot of people are unwilling to consume something that tastes bad at all.
At one end of the scale you have the silver spoon people, and at the other: animals. There is more to be said for the latter. Resorting to an animalistic state is a liberating spiritual experience.
In the context of cacti, assuming that it is a gift from God, it is a bit of an insult to turn your nose up at the taste and say “no thanks.” I’m not sure what it is, but there is something to be said for letting go of your preconceptions and devouring these gifts with due gratitude.
If nothing else, it is a good endurance test. It is too easy to pop pills. You are tricking your body into not knowing what it is consuming. The same goes for condensing a cactus into juice. You are trying to consume it as fast as possible, so you don’t have to bear the taste. It is better to not fight it; for you and your body to accept the consumption of the cactus.
There is no way around it. If you try to cheat it with cactus juice, and force it down as quickly as possible, the experience will be unpleasant. There should be no negative association in your psyche, no matter how minor, with this gift. It will not ruin the trip by any means, but it will potentially compromise the potential of the experience. By consuming mescaline in gel caps, whatever nausea or other physiological symptoms you experience will be a surprise/ an unexplained phenomena for your body and the part of you that is beyond the realm of ordinary consciousness.
As I said, I am leaning towards shamanistic practices. I am still growing to understand the importance of natural earthly concoctions. Ideally I’d like to life in complete harmony with nature and not consume chemicals at all. I don’t take chemicals often; I do, however, take them too often.
+4:00 – As predicted I am in a very comfortable state. Hallucinating fairly intensely already. I think this is due to the mushroom/cactus combination, as both individual doses were insufficient. I could stay like this all day. Strong visual contortions and pattern work. Good body high, relaxed muscles. I’m able to concentrate perfectly on the world around me.
+4:10 – It occurs to me that this trip isn’t a very good idea. I re-assure myself that it is a good idea; that I will be careful. After some convincing, I agree with myself. “I guess it’s okay,” I say. “Just this once.”
The negotiations with myself included a single clause: that I stay in this state for a couple of hours.
Hard to disagree with that, it is beautiful here.
+4:35 – I am, on some level, eager to explore new territory. I shouldn’t be. Eagerness implies impatience, which is not a pure state of mind. By taking it slow, I am able to purify the experience of negative mind sets. I am going to go lie down and meditate until I am clear.
+5:50 – At some point during my meditations, an enormous amount of heat radiated from my body. It felt like I was sitting directly in front of a fire, but it came from somewhere inside my ribcage and spread outwards. For half an hour or so, my body was bursting with heat – but never so much that it was uncomfortable. I went into a half-sleep state, drifting in and out of consciousness. If I’d allowed myself to, I could have very easily drifted off into sleep.
Now that I am no longer eager to continue, I will do so.
Note: I assume the “heat” is a result of non-mescaline alkaloids present in the cactus that are typically lost during the extraction process, but I am not sure. It could be the combination. I am genuinely surprised at the cumulative effect of threshold doses. I’ve found, through trial and error, that the threshold barrier for dried mushrooms is around 0.7 – 0.8 of a gram; DXM has no recreational effect, whatsoever, at 75mg; and I didn’t consume anywhere near enough cacti to achieve an effect – let alone one preferable to anything the compounds could produce individually.
+5:55 – consumed two gel caps, each containing roughly 0.32 grams dried Psilocybe Subaeruginosa
+6:00 – consumed 25 ml of Robotussin Dry Cough Forte, containing 75 mg of DXM HBi
+6:30 – Went out the front to smoke a joint. The cannabis accelerated my hallucinations. Very strong visual distortions now. My lawn and garden path became a liquid sea. Various trees and segments of fencing, each one with its own sense of gravity, floating like miniature un-tethered islands. The distance from my toes to the letterbox like the distances between continents. I do not marvel at this sight. I accept it as normality, in the hope that one day it might do the same for me.
It would be great if I could add in threshold doses of LSD, unfortunately I only have tabs so that’s not possible.
+7:10 – I don’t like cutting tabs into little pieces. It’s so inaccurate. I’ve been in situations before where I’ve split a tab with someone (right down the middle) and ended up getting almost none of the drug. Having said all that, in the spirit of this prolonged threshold DXM experiment, I’m going to try. It’s not as if the alkaloid content of cacti or mushrooms can be estimated with any degree of accuracy either.
The tab is a “Hoffman,” whatever that means. I’m sure it wasn’t produced by Hoffman’s great grandson. Anyway, a highly reliable source has told me that it is potent. Somewhere in the vicinity of 250 mcg. Let’s say 240. I am going to cut it in half, making two 120 mcg doses.
+7:25 – consumed a half tab, containing an estimated 120 mcg LSD. My empty stomach doesn’t like it. This concentrated acidic chemical compound. I haven’t eaten anything (aside from mushrooms, syrup and cacti) since midnight. Seventeen and a half hours. Ten minutes after eating the acid, my stomach is spastic. I can feel it, the organ, physically moving. Writhing around. Now I’m thinking it’s bad for me, this chemical and that I should eat something to ease my stomach. This is exactly why I don’t like chemicals.
LSD is like ecstasy. It’s often not what you think it is and when it is, it’s fucking dirty most of the time. Trace amounts of garbage my body can do without. Everything else consumed in this trip report is 100% pure, even the nitrous and DXM. I am absolutely certain regarding the quality of everything except the acid. This is why I opt for mushrooms over tabs any day of the year. I don’t understand why most people are the other way around. It baffles me as to why anybody would chose something made by an unknown chemist over something that grows out of the ground. They are such similar drugs, that one can easily be used to compensate for the lack of the other. I am happy to do without LSD, in other words, as long as I have a sufficient quantity of mushrooms.
Note: There are a number of research chemicals posing as LSD. Some dealers sell DOI blotter as LSD blotter, probably because of the brand name. I have a couple of tabs of DOI which look practically identical to my tabs of LSD. I quadruple-checked that I had consumed the correct tab for this experiment, as the combination of DXM and DOI is potentially lethal. If you do not absolutely trust the source of your LSD, do not combine it with DXM. You might die. Further illustrates my whole point about mushrooms being victorious over their ergot cousins, doesn’t it?
I forget sometimes that people aren’t aware of the dangers involved in combining DXM with other substances. It is not a mixer. Do your research first, always. Anyway, back to the lab.
+7:52 – One thing I’ve noticed about combining psychedelic thresholds: there is no peak. It’s something I’ve both observed in the past and at the initial stages of this experiment. I am aware that a half tab of acid is beyond threshold and, combined with the various other substances I’ve ingested, will peak.
+8:00 – I thought of an ingenious – or perhaps idiotic – way to avoid eating during the trip. I decided, a while back, that I am only allowed to eat pieces of cactus. I am getting really hungry now. I want to eat like half a kilogram of raw cactus.
+8:10 – I ate another star shaped slice. It tasted much better than it did the first time. Mainly because I’m so hungry. Kind of like the starving guy in the desert, who turns in desperation to a cactus only to find God. I’m probably not that hungry. I wish I crawled through a desert and hardly died only to find salvation in a psychedelic cactus. That’s fucking amazing. But, there are certain drug experiences you can’t achieve without doing yourself serious bodily harm and (given the option) I will always opt for the safer choice. In other words: please abduct me and leave me in a central American desert.
+8:25 – Need to eat more cactus. The estimated mescaline dose has gone out the window, incidentally. In other words, I couldn’t be bothered using the scales. I really want to chew on the entire cactus. Chopping slices and cutting the skin off feels wrong. That guy in the desert, he didn’t have a big kitchen knife on him. He had to use his fingers. That’s what I want to do. Cut myself on the barbs. Bleed into the sand. When I said “please abduct me” before, I wasn’t joking. I seriously want to be abducted. I’ll say it again: please abduct me. Actually, don’t. I didn’t really mean that. Just pretend I never said it in the first place. If only there was some way to erase words.
+8:50 – consumed 8 grams n2o
After the initial semi-conscious rush, I returned to reality accompanied by the familiar echoing auditory hallucinations produced by nitrous. In this case, my brain sampled the whoosh of a passing car. That sound then pulsed in my head, becoming louder and more intense with each incarnation – though hardly changing. With each pulse, patterns exploded against walls like neon paint-ball shrapnel. A coat-of-arms type symbol recurring on different substances. The emblem, I suppose, of King Acid the infinite.
Nitrous is kind of like sitting inside a big metal tin while somebody hits it with a hammer. Auditory hallucinations are the less popular little brother of the more crowd-pleasing visual hallucinations. Sort of like how radio is less popular than television. But not really.
+9:05 – consumed 16 grams n2o
With each pulse, if I angle my head slightly, the auditory hallucinations change. Each reincarnation of the sample – in this case, a bird – is processed then processed again. It goes from a bird sound to something completely artificial and unrecognizable in a matter of minutes; I hear the sound disintegrate. The closed-eye visual pattern-work is pretty amazing. In the initial rush from the nitrous, letters and numbers appeared within the framework of the patterns I had already seen. Where there had been globes of light – for example – were now globes of light with a big stylized stamp (‘e’ or ‘Q’ or ‘4’) printed on them. All of these linguistic/numerological symbols flying across the inside of my brain like lotto balls. They connected into a perfect bubble that surrounded me. The letters and numbers replaced by the emblem of King Acid. That same psychedelic pattern repeated hundreds of times across the surface of the bubble in honey-comb like sections.
+9:15 – consumed 8 grams n2o
Disappointing. Nothing to speak of. No emblems.
+9:20 – consumed 8 grams n2o
Nothing psychedelic. No emblems. Didn’t enhance patterns.
+10:00 – I sit down at the table on the balcony.
An old Chinese man mutters as he tunes his radio. The soft human, almost animal, sounds he makes combined with the crackling of the radio going in and out of tune confuses me. It doesn’t make sense. Like when you look at a word too long and get confused about the letter arrangement. This noise isn’t from my reality. It’s from inside my head. And if it’s from inside my head, what does that mean. Am I dying. Am I going insane. I stand up and look over the fence.
An old Chinese man mutters as he tunes his radio. He doesn’t notice me, or – more likely – doesn’t care about my presence. I sit back down at the table and light a joint. As I smoke, the parallel floorboards become less parallel. Things distort in a melting sort of a way. As if everything is an extra part liquid. My balcony sways back and forth like the tide.
I spoke to my cat. The first words I had uttered since getting out of bed. I realized, when speaking to her, that I was doing it specifically because I was in the presence of somebody else; the slightest bit of indirect human contact made me want to speak. In that sense, I wasn’t really speaking to my cat. I was speaking to my neighbor, somehow. Impossibly communicating through the fence-line, transcending the language barrier. Even if the old guy doesn’t understand English, he understood what I said, what I to my cat. What I said to him. And I, in turn, understood his angry muttering. It was one of those inexplicably profound moments when something insane seems very much real indeed.
Then he hit it, my neighbor – the old Chinese man – he found the radio station he had been searching for. It was the first piece of music I’d heard all day. A woman’s voice, soft high pitched. Foreign words and strange unknown instruments. All perfect. An image of a beautiful Chinese woman in a sprawling oriental landscape pops into my head. This music, conjuring images of people I have never met and places I have never been. Then silence. The song finishes and the old man turns off the radio.
I smoke in silence. Beside me, on the table, is large knife and a long piece of cactus.
+10:30 – consumed a quarter of a gram of cannabis; I finished the joint from earlier.
I chop up some raw chicken chunks for my cats. They stand on the counter nibbling pieces off the cutting board while I’m chopping it up. There is no owner-pet hierarchy. Touching the raw meat, I am acutely aware of where it has been. Of what it used to be. This slimy pink slab of meat that I’m chopping up for my cats; once, a miserable chicken. There is no connection in my mind between this and something I should be eating. It does not resemble food.
They purr as they eat. It seems so ridiculous, this need to eat and shit. The simple mechanics of extraordinary things. Eating itself is now foreign. Not just the chicken, but eating anything.
I am not hungry and, in its absence, hunger no longer makes much sense. It exists as an idea but not as a thing; and, the idea is absurd without the thing.
+11:00 – I am now confident that the acid is indeed acid and not something acid-like that might react badly to the consumption of more DXM. It is more difficult to tell than usual, given the various other substances floating around my brain canals.
+11:05 – consumed 100 ml of Robotussin Dry Cough Forte, containing 300mg of DXM HBi
+11:10 – consumed three gel caps, each containing roughly 0.32 grams dried Psilocybe Subaeruginosa
+11:15 – consumed a half tab, containing an estimated 120 mcg of LSD
+11:51 – consumed 8 grams n2o
The n2o has a much more pronounced effect with the extra DXM. It lasts much longer. Though, it’s hard to say where the DXM stops and the nitrous begins, or vice-versa.
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