A particular friend of mine, who to this day remains close to my heart and yet physically distant, have shared and continue to share such a bond after a particularly profound experience with LSD (there was hashish as well, but I don't think that's really relevant). Here is the story:
He and I were in high school at the time. We were both 15. We had met at the beginning of the year when I moved into the city of Victoria, on Vancouver Island. We had already had many profound psychedelic experiences together, not to mention a host of experimentations with other substances, and we had found that we shared a very deep connection from the moment we had met. We could both read each other very well, and it was rare for one to express a thought that the other did not agree with. We even found that we had been connected before we even knew it, in such ways as having lost our virginity to the same girl 2 years previous, when I was not yet even living in the same city.
One day, as lunch period was ending on a Friday afternoon, I went to him and said "We need to get some LSD today, I just know it's the right thing to do." To this he replied "I have been thinking the exact same thing all day, let's go, now." We left the school grounds and caught a bus to the city core. We wandered around, looking for people we knew or those who looked like they could get what we needed, and after several hours, we found what we were seeking.
We met a girl about our age, we'd seen her before at a few parties but never interacted with her. We approached her and asked her if she could get us some L. She replied that our timing was perfect. Her friend had just been delivered a book that was custom-dipped just for her, with a beautiful one-off blotter print: A single neon and glowing white mushroom, as large as a tree, on a black background, with a simple legend printed beside, reading "I'm losing my grip...". We were excited. We had heard rumors that there was a chemist around, someone from a university. Turns out the rumors were true as I would shortly find out, but that's another story. Anyway, this girl took us to the steps of a government building, closed for the day. The steps were full of people roughly our age, dressed in the height of counter-culture fashion. We were led to the top, where a petite girl dressed in black leather was sitting.
"These guys want doses, L," said our guide. The girl in black unzipped her backpack and took out a small square of foil, which she unfolded. Laying before our eyes was part of the blotter we had been told of. It wasn't much, 10 hits or so, just the letter "I" and black space. I said the first thing that popped into my head, "Is that all you have left?" She looked at me funny, but her friend filled in the blanks. "I told them you just picked up today. She splits it up so she's not exposing the whole sheet every time someone wants a dose." This made perfect sense. "So how much do you want?" Asked the girl in black, "Since you're new, I'll give you a deal. 2 hits each, and I'll throw in 2 grams of hash as well. -- bucks. That's about half price for what you're getting, so pat yourself on the back." I opened my wallet and paid the lady. "I don't have any spare foil, so unless you have some I guess you'll just have to eat it here." She chuckled as we shrugged and bent down with our mouths open. Under the tongue she dropped two blotters for each of us, and pressed a small foil cube into my hand containing the hash. "You need anything, you give me a call, my number is easy enough to remember. It's just 886-ACID (NOTE TO MODS: The number is not active for about 6 or more years now, and as of now sits unassigned, I have just included it for the hilarity of an acid dealer using such a number). We all laughed heartily and parted ways.
My friend and I started the journey home, deciding we would walk quickly and take a back route, out of the city core and away from prying eyes, to enjoy our come-up in peace. Close to the place where we would have to enter a long, narrow, serpentine foot bridge across a body of water, we ran into a friend of ours, we will call him R. He was of Irish descent, and he felt that it was his duty to his genetics to drink heartily whenever the opportunity presented itself. Apparently the opportunity had been presenting itself for quite some hours by this point, since he was well settled into his typical drunk mode of behavior: friendly, loud, and rowdy. We were glad to see him, since he never failed at being an excellent companion, regardless of the circumstance. He thought it hilarious that we had dropped acid, and although he never touched any substance besides alcohol and marijuana, he was always keen to observe. When he found out we had some hash, however, his mind shifted gears and he declared that it must all be smoked immediately.
We went to a near-by elementary school and took refuge in one of their covered play areas. My close friend took out his pipe, and we proceeded to consume the hash over the course of about 30 minutes or so. There was much laughing, joking, and general good cheer. I honestly forgot that I had dropped LSD, until it seemed that all at once, the trip was upon me. We realized that we lost track of time and that we must get home post-haste. We bid R a farewell, and proceeded to hurry to our destination. How we made it, I will never know. We later found out that as far as our conscious minds were concerned, we were both following the other, so how we did not simply walk in circles or stand still, I will never know. Either way, we made it home to the condo of my companion, and immediately sequestered ourselves in his bedroom. Lights were extinguished, curtains were drawn, the specially prepared playlist for the evening was set to play, and we took our place, side by side, on his water bed.
My friend had attempted to put on some sort of video playlist as well, but he couldn't make sense of the device. "God-damnable esoteric garbage!" he cried out before giving up and taking his place beside me. The screen was left on, blank except for two small letters in the top-right corner: "AV". I pointed to them and chuckled, "Check it out man, Acid Visuals!" We both laughed heartily before falling silent and staring wherever we felt most comfortable. Those were the last words that were ever spoken verbally that night, although we didn't know it until much later.
The power of the experience was fantastic. It was much more than we were expecting. It was not our first experience with LSD, but it was certainly the most powerful. Throughout the night we held several deep conversations on the nature of existence, the illusion of morality, and other such topics. We never spoke a word out loud, but the information got through. We confirmed this much later, after we had time to really integrate the experience. This is not the really important part though. Ever since that night, there has been a link between our minds. Whenever one reads, hears, or otherwise digests a fact, figure, story, song, or any other such thing that we feel is of the utmost importance to the other, he will be drawn to it and become aware of it very shortly before it is communicated to him. Any moments in our lives that carry particular gravity cause the other to be drawn near, either physically or by electronic means, to confirm the health and well-being of the other. The most interesting part of this link or bond however is this: occasionally we will both meet in our dream-scape. Whenever one feels he is in particular need of the other, that night they will meet on the plane of our thoughts for a palaver. We will always give a sign and counter sign, different every time, so that we can confirm the reality of this meeting of our minds in our waking lives. Not once have we been wrong.
![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
