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150ug 1P-LSD + 550mg Phenibut FAA — All Is Fair in Love and Lysergics


Nov 26, 2014
Hilbert space
I had wanted to drive down to the Redwoods and trip while hiking there. After driving three hours with five to go, dealing with a headache the entire time, I said fuck that and headed home.

The next day I woke up and took 550mg of Phenibut FAA, around three hours later I took 1.5 blotters (150ug) of 1P-LSD. I thought I'd take the light rail down to this big park I'd never been to and hike for a few hours. About 30 minutes after taking the tabs I hopped on the light rail. I'd been on it before, and it feels safe, but my route required that I get on the metro bus about halfway there. I'd never rode that but I figured it wouldn't be too bad.

Even on the light rail I wasn't tripping hard yet but I felt a bit uneasy. When I got off I realized I had just missed the metro bus and the next one wouldn't arrive for 30 more minutes. As I scoped out the bus stop, I realized the entire street was incredibly sketchy. Cackling madmen huddled together, smoking drugs off of foil. One was mixing his purple drank. Sizzurp. Pike Place Market was right around the corner. The juxtaposition was absurd.

Despite my apprehension I decided to stick it out and embrace the adventure. I walked in a gift shop and bought a hat while I waited for the bus to arrive. When I got back to the bus stop I began to realize how bad of an idea this was. It was no longer a safe environment. I turned back for the light rail. Someone in front of me blew an enormous cloud of sickly smelling vapor. Was it spice? I walked on through it.

I got to the light rail and had to wait ten minutes for it to arrive, then the ride itself would be ten more. Not the best place to peak. It felt like an eternity. With headphones on full blast all I could hear was the screeching of the train. Why were we going downhill? This was it, I was being taken down into hell with the rest of these sinners. Each stop felt the same and I felt like I was riding the entire route on repeat. It was quite uncomfortable, and I worried that I might lose control of my body and do something inappropriate. A baby crawled on the seat across from me and I recoiled away in horror. I tried to sink as deeply as possible into my mind but it was no use, my fellow riders knew. They were judging me accordingly, ready to bring in the law at a moment's notice.

Somehow I made it out. Emerging from the light rail station felt unbelievably freeing. I had nowhere to go but up. Getting back to my apartment I turned on some music and sat down.

I've often seen LSD characterized as more cognitively stimulating than other psychedelics, and I began to understand why. It was like an intense look at the structures of the mind.

All my questions begged the answer. Every attempt at reasoning bottomed out with its top out. Strange loops indeed.

I brushed my teeth. The pulsating toothbrush flung water droplets everywhere, symbolizing the disjointed atomistic stimuli continuously bombarding my sensors. What unifies them and molds them into coherent perception? Perhaps the question is ill-posed..
For an answer which cannot be expressed the question too cannot be expressed. The riddle does not exist.
Did I lack the perspective to answer it or did the answer fundamentally not exist? Was it not a matter of guessing the right compression algorithm? Could I not capture the system from within, could I not become the ouroboros? Perhaps holistic symbols are more appropriate at this level of reality. Logical analysis here is a category error, meaningless. Such is the plight within the transcendental aesthetic's bounds, which in itself seems to transcend grokking.

I had to axiomatize the generator of this spatial experience, and my faith in its representations and the inferences they led to (e.g. objects out there existing in space) would only carry me as far as my faith in the generator. What evidence had I to say that the generator faithfully mirrored reality out there? It certainly had allowed the DNA coding it to proliferate, which suggested that it faithfully mapped onto what was out there, right? Yet I knew this only from the representations, and so I was using the consequences of my axiom to justify its axiomatization. There was no external bedrock.

Fucking circular. I was left groping a nebulous reality where objects interacted in some abstract space. For what more it to say that two objects coincide in space, other than to say they can interact? But what could be said about my mapping of this abstract space? Surely the map was not the territory, the psychedelic experience exemplified this par excellence. Changing the map shouldn't change the territory, just like changing the coordinate system shouldn't change the physics. Sadly this view of maps not only relativized the maps, it characterized as derivative the very thing it derived from. The premises were derivative and as such, so too was the conclusion. Knowledge was not possible. It was all so confusing.

Even more than normally, I began to doubt those people who claimed to bring back metaphysical knowledge from the psychedelic state with . It wasn't their fault, they simply couldn't bear the uncertainty. Yet here I was, every existential question and its seeming unanswerability was only amplified. It all seemed so inescapable.

Everything was meaningless. I felt a deep sadness and loneliness unlike anything I had ever experienced. What makes life worth living? I thought about a girl I've known for years and I cried emotions that I didn't know I had. I reached out and told her that I missed her. I call my cousin and tell him how strong the experience is, but am unable to articulate much more than that. I go outside and walk around in the sun. That really helps.

My body temperature is fluctuating like crazy. I feel like I'm gonna pass out. Oh wait, I haven't ate or drank anything. Drinking water is amazing, it pours through my mind and coats my thoughts. Thinking feels better now, less friction this way. Stretching my muscles feels indescribably good. Even my brain is stretching, as if individual nerve fibers are displacing outwardly from the bundles one by one. Tipper is too much, I switch to Emancipator.

Interacting with my dog becomes much more natural. He is no longer there for me, but there with me. In him I begin to see someone who is fundamentally no different than myself. Although I knew this before, I never felt it to this degree. We bond throughout the rest of the trip, and it really is incredible how I've been able to connect with him on psychedelics, I just have such an increased capacity for empathy, love and patience when I'm on them.

As the night wears on the experience becomes more and more recreational. 10 hours in I feel extremely euphoric and music sounds incredible. I go pick up a few slices of pizza. It tastes remarkable. The thought of the experience leaving makes me sad. I start typing this report, hit my DMT cart a handful of times, and listen to some Jade Cicada. It builds in intensity but nothing overpowering. It seems phenibut somewhat inhibits the effects of DMT (N=3), as I had much stronger experiences mixing the cart with ketamine, but it's hard to say for sure.

I end up falling asleep about 14 hours after dropping. My dog wakes me up five hours later and I go get coffee. Feeling extremely refreshed. In the mirror my face looks healthier and my vision is extremely crisp. Everything feels effortless and I feel less obligated to think about technical things, as they seem less important than they did. I write this report periodically throughout the morning and afternoon.

In terms of the mental effects during the peak, this was maybe the most unique psychedelic experience I've ever had, save for maybe a 4.5g mushroom trip, but that one was more difficult to remember and more sedating. The experience seemed a bit out of control, especially while I was on the light rail, but the stress of the ride didn't help with that. This was so much stronger than 100ug of ALD-52 that I can't even compare them. That was basically recreational and this definitely wasn't, at least for the first few hours. This was outwardly visual but not obnoxiously so, although there was a strong visual element to all of my thoughts.

I wonder what role skipping caffeine may have played in the intensity as well, since I basically never start my day without 2-3 shots of espresso. The phenibut didn't really seem to dull the intensity of the effects, but it did seem to dull my ability to think about what was happening in the moment. In the future I think a slightly lower dose of phenibut would be optimal.