STORY I FOUND ON THE SHROOMERY ABOUT A THUMBPRINT EXPERIENCE- Idk if this is real but its an interesting story.....Enjoy....
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Here is the Briaros thumbprinting story. It's a pretty fucking epic trip report.
The “final trip” story
This story requires I tell a side story in order for it to truly sink in, and make sense.
Part 1: The story of David.
David was my first friend in New Mexico, and probably my best friend ever. He was also the guy to give me my first acid. David started acid at the tender age of 10, due to the fact that his father was one of the biggest acid middle men in the state. He was experienced in acid, and knew every trick in the book… he taught me everything I know about acid to date. He was also VERY smart. He thought of acid as a gateway into his mind, and would often take insane doses (40+ hits) in order to explore his consciousness. He was the one who got me to start taking large doses. Since 1994, David had spoken of the “ultimate trip”, the one that would end his search for himself. In case you couldn’t tell, David was a very deep person, and was under the impression that this massive dose would ultimately unlock the potential of his mind… that dose is often known as “thumb printing a crystal”. Acid in its purest form is a solid crystal, and if you were to touch it with slightly damp thumb, you would instantly absorb the equivalent of well over 100 hits of acid. David had prepared his whole teenage years, as did we all, for the ultimate trip. He studied its effects, upped his dose often to test his limits, and spent a year or two learning how to properly meditate to keep him calm during the trip. On November 2nd 2001, David thumb printed a black amber crystal known as Timothy Leary II... he committed suicide by stabbing himself in the throat with a broken mirror piece just hours later.
The “final trip” story
Part 2: My story
I attended David’s funeral on November 8th, and it was the only time I had ever been to a social function sober. The news of David had devastated me beyond. I didn’t have the will to dose for that whole week. As I sat there sobbing to myself and cursing David for ever leaving me like that, then I realized that he hadn’t killed himself because of the acid… he did it because he HAD found himself, and he didn’t like what he had seen. David was insecure and often berated himself for his shortcomings. He always swore that once he had tapped his mind, if he didn’t like what he saw then there was no reason to go on. He once told me that he had “sadistic thoughts”… thoughts that kept him up at night shivering in his bed. He had unlocked his mind, and what he found frightened him bad enough, that he took his life.
I followed in the steps of David like a loyal puppy. What he did, I did. David was my teacher in what he called the spiritual realm. We would take huge doses of acid and put ourselves into a trance like state in order to explore our minds deepest chasms… he taught me meditation, and the principles of OBE. I loved David like a brother, and his passing made me seriously step back and take a look at my life. At this point I had been taking acid for over 10 years, and I hadn’t learned anything truly about myself or my thoughts. I wanted to go further… as far as David had.
That night, I went over to David’s house to speak with his father. We talked about the good ol’ days when the 3 of us would eat a 10 strip and look at the stars. Then I dropped the bomb on his dad, “Larry, I want to see the amber crystal.” “NO”, he said. “I won’t let you go too.” I begged him for the next three months, but got turned down every time. Larry had thumb printed a crystal when he was in his 20’s, and ended up scaring himself so bad that he developed a slight case of schizophrenia, and he didn’t want to see another mind taken by it. I relented. I had to see what David saw… I had to know why such a bright mind with an obvious bright future would end his life the way he did. I was prepared to do the same if it came down to it.
to be continued...
... continued
March 2nd 2002:
It was about 9:00am when I got the call from Larry. “Don, I’m coming over at 10:00pm”, he said, “I want everything sharp placed in a box along with the mirrors on your wall stacked by your door when I get there.” He had submitted… he was bringing the black amber crystal to my house that night, and I was going to touch the beast.
I did as he had requested… I took all the mirrors off my wall and stacked them near my door along with a box full of forks, knives, and a letter opener. When he arrived, he started placing all of this in the back of his truck, and told me he would return it the moment, “I could form sentences”. He explained the dangers of this kind of trip, and tried to prepare me for what would become at least one full month of the hardest trip I had ever encountered.
“before we start”, he said,” I need to show you this.” It was David’s suicide note… the note they found clenched in a death grip in his left hand. It wasn’t really a note, as much as it was 3 words on a yellow sheet of paper… “let me out”. “You still wanna do this?” I nodded and he began to explain the rules of thumb printing.
Rule 1: no mirrors… not just because they were breakable and sharp, but because of the effect of seeing yourself on a trip this hard may cause you to freak out.
Rule 2: no leaving the house for at least 1 week. I was told to deadbolt my door the second he left, and then get back to my seat as quickly as possible.
Rule 3: whatever happens, remember to look at your arms… “If you can see”. (Referencing the black marker on the arm trick)
Rule 4: “keep a phone with 911 on speed dial near. If shit goes bad, they can administer thorizine to bring you down… Kinda.
He placed the crystal on my table using a thick pair of rubber gloves, and brought out a sponge that had been soaked in everclear. The alcohol was to put on my thumb, to help speed the melting / absorption process. You only have a second to touch the crystal… any more and you could be putting yourself in a world of misery. I took a deep breath, thanked Larry and hugged him, then put my everclear soaked thumb on the crystal.
The second I touched the crystal my thumb burned like I had just touched a hot range top, and upon taking it off, I noticed I already had a large darkened blister forming there. Then my hand went numb. I quickly locked my door and put the deadbolt & chain on. By the time I had sat down my entire body had went numb. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. All of the times before when I had dropped 40+ hits could have never prepared me for this trip. My walls heaved back and forth, the floor felt like it had liquefied, and my heart felt as though it was about to beat out of my chest. Then it happened….
Almost as soon as the peak had hit, it was over. I sat on my couch just staring ahead, wondering what went wrong. Had Larry tricked me, and let me touch a fake crystal with a drop of acid on it? How could he do this to me! I got up and stormed around my apartment cursing Larry for fucking with my head… he had prepared me for a trip he knew would never happen. I called his house; only to receive an out of order recording… it was working earlier. He had turned off his phone! By this time, I was fuming pissed, and screaming at the top of my lungs. I ran out the door and drove to his house. Upon arrival, I noticed his truck wasn’t there, and the house was dark. I tried for the next 24 hours to get ahold of him… nothing. The next day I went to work and came home just like any other day, except I could feel that something was wrong. All day I kept having funny occurrences that just seemed out of place. Perhaps the acid did work, but on a deeper more subtle level. At work a lady had asked me if I “knew my father”. I replied “yes”… my mother divorced my dad when I was only 2, but I still saw him occasionally and received his money every month… but the more I thought about it, I DIDN’T really know my father. I knew nothing about him. I finished ringing her up for her new E-machine and bid her a good day, when she turned and added, “ Don’t let an opportunity pass you by”. I nodded and forgot the whole conversation. The rest of the day was interesting to say the least. For a Sunday, the roads were very empty, and there didn’t seem to be many people out. Circuit city was dead that day, and I had only made about $75, so I was ready to go home and let this weekend from hell end in alcohol soaked bliss.
I sat there on my couch, in the same place I had sat the night before, thinking that I was going to start tripping any second…. Nothing. I kept taking small swigs off of a plastic bottle of vodka that I had put away in my bong cabinet. I wanted to trip that night, but couldn’t bring myself to call and find any. Larry was the go to man, and he had skipped town… with all my shit. A knock at my door made me jump right out of my skin. I answered the door to what would ultimately be the crowning moment of the weekend. There before me stood my best friend in the whole world… David.
... continued
Part: 3 – The end of an 11 year binge.
I shivered uncontrollably at his sight. I was scared, but at the same time calm like no other swept over me. I felt… warm, like I was being hugged by invisible arms. I stared at David for what seemed like an hour without a word spoken. “Can I come in?”… He spoke. He was really here… alive! David! We sat down on my couch, and starred at each other… I couldn’t believe he was here. Maybe the acid had worked, and this was a solid hallucination. A quick poke confirmed that he was a solid as you and I. “I was at your funeral”… “I know” he said. “I called you an asshole”… “I know” he said again. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t understand why.”… “I know”. He held out a sheet of white paper for me to take…. On it was written, “let me out”… this time in my own hand writing. Then he was gone. I sat there and cried because he had left me again. I didn’t understand what just happened, all I knew was that the acid had worked… perhaps too well.
I opened my eyes to wipe the tears only to find that it was actually 4 hours later, and I was wearing the same clothes I had worn the night before…. In my left hand was a white sheet of paper that I had written, “let me out”.
It was all a mass hallucination. The entire weekend never happened; I had never even left my couch for those 2 days. The whole time I was a prisoner in my own mind, unable to move or respond… only carry out a second by second waking dream in my head. I had lived the past day as if I had been there. I had to piss like a race horse, and my mouth was so dry it hurt. I was tripping harder than I had ever tripped before. I found myself to be completely emotionless. I couldn’t even muster a tear for the thought of David. I had beaten the peak, the hardest part of the trip… I was alive, but I felt no joy nor sorrow.
April 13th 2002. I woke up to the most pleasant thing I had felt in months… sobriety! It was over, and I had won. I laid there on my bed, in the fetal position, crying like a little bitch for the next 2 days. It took almos t3 weeks to regain my equilibrium and begin to feel normal again. It took almost a month before I realized what it was that the trip had taught me. I took for granted that my father had been sending me acid money for the past 11 years, but I had never stopped to thank him… much less call him. The lady in circuit city was a creation of my mind that allowed me to see this. I called my father that night, and we talked for 5 hours… I learned more about him that night, than I had in the past 23 years.
I don’t do acid anymore, maybe because the acid does me now. I am getting a return on my investment, as I am now among those who call themselves perma-fried. I had spent almost half of my life on the drug, but until that experience, I had never truly grasped what acid was capable of. I live in a constant trip now… maybe psychological, maybe physical… like I said, I’m no scientist, but I have never been the same since. I no longer know sobriety. When I was kid, all I had to do was stop dosing and the trip went away… now, I don’t have that luxury. I have learned to live with it, and truth be told… it’s not that bad. I am so used to it now, I don’t even remember what true sobriety felt like. Tripping is my new sobriety… it is who I am.
You decide to try'n pick up a second degree a little late in the game or somesuch?
