TheAppleCore
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jul 14, 2007
- Messages
- 5,511
Previous psychedelic drugs taken include 2C-E, 2C-C, 25I & 25C-NBOMe, LSD & prodrugs, DMT, DPT, DiPT, 4-AcO-DMT, 4-HO-MET, 4-AcO-DET, 4-HO-MiPT, 4-HO-EPT, and 4-AcO-DPT.
Full report
At around 9:00 P.M. on a typical Saturday evening at home, I dosed 30 mg 4-AcO-DET fumarate in a small glass of orange juice, followed by a cup of ginger tea to settle my stomach, and then went outside for a walk, quite nervous but mostly excited. The first alert came at T+0:15, a floaty weightlessness in my gait. Not long after that, the dynamics of my environment, like streetlights flickering in and out of view behind foliage, or the rhythmic tick-tick-tick made by the electric fence around my neighbor's chicken coop, somehow took on an air of sexual provocation. Ordinarily if I cross paths with strangers while walking alone at night, I'm a bit wary and uncomfortable until they pass, but in my intoxication I delighted in the presence of my fellow humanity, and secretly wished that someone would have cause to stop me and strike a conversation. The line between friend and stranger was heavily blurred, creating an atmosphere of communion with the entire neighborhood. As I looked out over the top of the hill at the end of my street, I happened to catch a firework off in the distance, and took it as a wink from the great unknown.
As the effect fully blossomed, it assumed a dreamlike character, and I say this for a couple reasons. Firstly, I've always observed that my emotions and sensations are somewhat muted in my dreams, such that I never quite reach the greatest extremes of agony or ecstasy even in the wildest escapades, and my trip was similarly soft around the edges. Secondly, as is typical with dreams, despite being such a radical departure from everyday consciousness, it felt utterly natural, almost sober in a way, and only in retrospect can I appreciate just how exotic the whole thing was.
I got home about forty minutes in. When I closed my eyes, I was greeted with the familiar geometry of DMT and psilocin, a bit less flamboyant in color and detail, but animated as if it were embroidered on a cloth flag which was rippling, twisting, and folding over itself. It moved with a smooth and steady flow, like a river of honey. Earlier in the day, I had been working on a musical composition, and now the piece was spontaneously pouring out from my imagination in auditory hallucinations. There was no trace of a bodyload. In a report on 4-AcO-DET entitled Solar Mint, Jamshyd described a physical sensation akin to "peppermint going through [his] nerves", which is an excellent description of the briskly tingling body-buzz I felt at times as well, but this was by no means objectionable. I was pleasantly surprised that the nausea which bothered me on lower doses of the drug was nowhere to be found!
The way that everything I saw, heard, felt, and thought coalesced into a whole greater than the sum of its parts -- like an ecosystem, with all its flora and fauna thriving in symbiosis with one another -- was enough to convince me, beyond a specter of doubt, that the ultimate identity and basic substance of the universe was nothing more than the cycle of life, victorious simply by virtue of its own existence. Sadly, I can't say exactly what this means, but in that moment, it was clear as daylight, and of nothing was I more certain. There was simply no other explanation for the fountain of vitality that gushed forth between the cracks of my mind split open by the drug. Again, as in a dream, all of this seemed perfectly ordinary, and the fact that it somehow remained a secret to the everyday mind was far more astonishing than the insight itself.
Besides slowly bending and sliding with the same viscous flow of my closed-eye visuals, everything in my external environment was rendered with a consistent aesthetic style, as if my whole field of vision were painted in the distinctive brushstrokes of a single artist -- a sort of playful, curvaceous impressionism. This effect stood as a dramatic, palpable symbolism for the notion that, indeed, there is a common spirit which pervades all of creation. From this vantage, the perennial question as to whether or not the origin of life was an accident seemed to be missing the point. Far from diminishing our significance, the idea that we could be surrounded by an infinite multiverse of lifeless chaos was exalting, like the great tail of a peacock. I picked up my phone and sent the following text message to a friend, with no context or explanation:
To me, this was entirely sufficient in conveying not only my trip, but everything that ever was, is, or will be. A singular affirmation. But not just any old yes -- a ~fucking~ yes.
I turned out the lights, sat upright on a couple pillows, and put on a jazz album (Out Here by Christian McBride). I think it will go without saying that what followed was easily the most hedonistic part of the trip, a synaesthetic ride that I can best summarize as literally having sex with the music. Of course, as with many psychedelics, the sound was animated by colorful visions, and told all kinds of stories like dangerous covert operations of undercover agents, battles with jungle beasts, love triangles, and so forth. But more unusual was that every tiny detail of the sound struck me like countless icy beads of winter rain all over my body, sending pangs of sexual pleasure crawling up my spine. It wasn't so much that I was turned on by the physical stimulation -- in fact, I wasn't particularly horny, per se -- but it truly felt like a form of intimate contact, as though a beautiful witch or goddess had used her powers to possess the band to play this music for me, for the sole purpose of touching me through the sonic medium, as a way of expressing her love and desire for me.
The simple notion that I, a boy, could be intertwined in love with a girl, was enough to dissolve the boundary between the sexes, such that I no longer made any distinction between masculine and feminine personalities, clothing, occupations, and so on. I felt imprisoned by clinging to a male identity, and inspired to freely express myself without fear of judgment, or even to defy the masculine stereotype for the sake of sheer rebellion. Looking at myself in the mirror, I saw a beauty which was independent of my physical form, radiating outward from the core of my personality and intent. The scars on my skin which I previously found difficult to accept now embellished my image all the more, as they told a story about my past.
After I had gotten my fill of unadulterated psychedelia, I ventured to explore the combination with nitrous oxide. However, before I could even take a third breath, I was repulsed by the buzz, so I let the balloon deflate, and that was the end of it. I think nitrous wasn't terribly complementary to the 4-AcO-DET because its dissociative, anxiolytic, and analgesic effects were redundant in the context of a trip so surreal, calm, and comfortable to begin with. Later, sleep came easily enough.
Looking back, of course I'm grateful for the experience, but I'm also vaguely perplexed. The evening stands in my memory as such an archetypal, fairy-tale-esque psychedelic adventure that I'm almost tempted to question whether it really was just a dream, although I know it wasn't. In the following days, I've been quite nicely relaxed, albeit a little melancholy, probably due to being preoccupied with some unrelated concerns.
TL;DR
My trip on 30 mg 4-AcO-DET proves that the drug is perfectly capable of delivering the full spectrum of spiritual and aesthetic value that we know and love from the most profound classical psychedelics, all in a remarkably undemanding and manageable package, with no discernible bodyload. If I had to nitpick, one complaint might be that the dreamy vibe of 4-AcO-DET causes it to somewhat lack the raw, emotional immediacy found in other serotonergics. And, as long as I'm wishing, although the visuals were nice, I wouldn't have minded a bit more of a show, although raising the dosage may well solve that problem. Regardless, I've developed a lot of trust in this compound, and can easily see it becoming my go-to workhorse psychedelic, depending on how things shape up in the future.
Tagged by Xorkoth
substancecode_4acodet
substancecode_tryptamines
explevel_inexperienced
exptype_positive
exptype_glowing
roacode_oral
Full report
At around 9:00 P.M. on a typical Saturday evening at home, I dosed 30 mg 4-AcO-DET fumarate in a small glass of orange juice, followed by a cup of ginger tea to settle my stomach, and then went outside for a walk, quite nervous but mostly excited. The first alert came at T+0:15, a floaty weightlessness in my gait. Not long after that, the dynamics of my environment, like streetlights flickering in and out of view behind foliage, or the rhythmic tick-tick-tick made by the electric fence around my neighbor's chicken coop, somehow took on an air of sexual provocation. Ordinarily if I cross paths with strangers while walking alone at night, I'm a bit wary and uncomfortable until they pass, but in my intoxication I delighted in the presence of my fellow humanity, and secretly wished that someone would have cause to stop me and strike a conversation. The line between friend and stranger was heavily blurred, creating an atmosphere of communion with the entire neighborhood. As I looked out over the top of the hill at the end of my street, I happened to catch a firework off in the distance, and took it as a wink from the great unknown.
As the effect fully blossomed, it assumed a dreamlike character, and I say this for a couple reasons. Firstly, I've always observed that my emotions and sensations are somewhat muted in my dreams, such that I never quite reach the greatest extremes of agony or ecstasy even in the wildest escapades, and my trip was similarly soft around the edges. Secondly, as is typical with dreams, despite being such a radical departure from everyday consciousness, it felt utterly natural, almost sober in a way, and only in retrospect can I appreciate just how exotic the whole thing was.
I got home about forty minutes in. When I closed my eyes, I was greeted with the familiar geometry of DMT and psilocin, a bit less flamboyant in color and detail, but animated as if it were embroidered on a cloth flag which was rippling, twisting, and folding over itself. It moved with a smooth and steady flow, like a river of honey. Earlier in the day, I had been working on a musical composition, and now the piece was spontaneously pouring out from my imagination in auditory hallucinations. There was no trace of a bodyload. In a report on 4-AcO-DET entitled Solar Mint, Jamshyd described a physical sensation akin to "peppermint going through [his] nerves", which is an excellent description of the briskly tingling body-buzz I felt at times as well, but this was by no means objectionable. I was pleasantly surprised that the nausea which bothered me on lower doses of the drug was nowhere to be found!
The way that everything I saw, heard, felt, and thought coalesced into a whole greater than the sum of its parts -- like an ecosystem, with all its flora and fauna thriving in symbiosis with one another -- was enough to convince me, beyond a specter of doubt, that the ultimate identity and basic substance of the universe was nothing more than the cycle of life, victorious simply by virtue of its own existence. Sadly, I can't say exactly what this means, but in that moment, it was clear as daylight, and of nothing was I more certain. There was simply no other explanation for the fountain of vitality that gushed forth between the cracks of my mind split open by the drug. Again, as in a dream, all of this seemed perfectly ordinary, and the fact that it somehow remained a secret to the everyday mind was far more astonishing than the insight itself.
Besides slowly bending and sliding with the same viscous flow of my closed-eye visuals, everything in my external environment was rendered with a consistent aesthetic style, as if my whole field of vision were painted in the distinctive brushstrokes of a single artist -- a sort of playful, curvaceous impressionism. This effect stood as a dramatic, palpable symbolism for the notion that, indeed, there is a common spirit which pervades all of creation. From this vantage, the perennial question as to whether or not the origin of life was an accident seemed to be missing the point. Far from diminishing our significance, the idea that we could be surrounded by an infinite multiverse of lifeless chaos was exalting, like the great tail of a peacock. I picked up my phone and sent the following text message to a friend, with no context or explanation:
Fuckingggggg yes.
To me, this was entirely sufficient in conveying not only my trip, but everything that ever was, is, or will be. A singular affirmation. But not just any old yes -- a ~fucking~ yes.
I turned out the lights, sat upright on a couple pillows, and put on a jazz album (Out Here by Christian McBride). I think it will go without saying that what followed was easily the most hedonistic part of the trip, a synaesthetic ride that I can best summarize as literally having sex with the music. Of course, as with many psychedelics, the sound was animated by colorful visions, and told all kinds of stories like dangerous covert operations of undercover agents, battles with jungle beasts, love triangles, and so forth. But more unusual was that every tiny detail of the sound struck me like countless icy beads of winter rain all over my body, sending pangs of sexual pleasure crawling up my spine. It wasn't so much that I was turned on by the physical stimulation -- in fact, I wasn't particularly horny, per se -- but it truly felt like a form of intimate contact, as though a beautiful witch or goddess had used her powers to possess the band to play this music for me, for the sole purpose of touching me through the sonic medium, as a way of expressing her love and desire for me.
The simple notion that I, a boy, could be intertwined in love with a girl, was enough to dissolve the boundary between the sexes, such that I no longer made any distinction between masculine and feminine personalities, clothing, occupations, and so on. I felt imprisoned by clinging to a male identity, and inspired to freely express myself without fear of judgment, or even to defy the masculine stereotype for the sake of sheer rebellion. Looking at myself in the mirror, I saw a beauty which was independent of my physical form, radiating outward from the core of my personality and intent. The scars on my skin which I previously found difficult to accept now embellished my image all the more, as they told a story about my past.
After I had gotten my fill of unadulterated psychedelia, I ventured to explore the combination with nitrous oxide. However, before I could even take a third breath, I was repulsed by the buzz, so I let the balloon deflate, and that was the end of it. I think nitrous wasn't terribly complementary to the 4-AcO-DET because its dissociative, anxiolytic, and analgesic effects were redundant in the context of a trip so surreal, calm, and comfortable to begin with. Later, sleep came easily enough.
Looking back, of course I'm grateful for the experience, but I'm also vaguely perplexed. The evening stands in my memory as such an archetypal, fairy-tale-esque psychedelic adventure that I'm almost tempted to question whether it really was just a dream, although I know it wasn't. In the following days, I've been quite nicely relaxed, albeit a little melancholy, probably due to being preoccupied with some unrelated concerns.
TL;DR
My trip on 30 mg 4-AcO-DET proves that the drug is perfectly capable of delivering the full spectrum of spiritual and aesthetic value that we know and love from the most profound classical psychedelics, all in a remarkably undemanding and manageable package, with no discernible bodyload. If I had to nitpick, one complaint might be that the dreamy vibe of 4-AcO-DET causes it to somewhat lack the raw, emotional immediacy found in other serotonergics. And, as long as I'm wishing, although the visuals were nice, I wouldn't have minded a bit more of a show, although raising the dosage may well solve that problem. Regardless, I've developed a lot of trust in this compound, and can easily see it becoming my go-to workhorse psychedelic, depending on how things shape up in the future.
Tagged by Xorkoth
substancecode_4acodet
substancecode_tryptamines
explevel_inexperienced
exptype_positive
exptype_glowing
roacode_oral
Last edited by a moderator:
Sounds absolutely lovely. The way you described the state of mind/your emotions as dreamlike really resonated with me. I experience the same thing in my dreams. As a kid my emotions were heightened in my dreams, but ever since I was a kid I've never had a nightmare (except once), and it seems like my emotions are almost just representative, rather than really reaching me.
I actually haven't combined nitrous oxide with either 4-AcO-DMT or mushrooms yet, but I really, really want to, it's definitely high up on my list. 4-HO-MET and nitrous is fucking incredible.... Second only to 4-HO-MPT if you ask me.