Thanks Xorkoth, this is definitely a welcome addition.
Effect on other psychedelics:
I’ve found AMT to synthesize incredibly well with DPT and 2C-E. It doesn’t seem to remove any of the depth from these compounds; it simply channels them in entirely positive directions. On the surface this may seem to be a misstatement, because by removing the possibility of a negative experience it would seem you erase a significant portion of the psychedelic experience. However, in my experience the positive dimensions of both DPT and 2C-E--both drugs that are considered by many to be quite neutral emotionally--are simply expanded and enriched to the point where they seem every bit as vibrant and dynamic as they are on their own, merely of a different character (that of an indelible inner paradise).
AMT hydrochloride:
This last weekend I used 50mg of the hydrochloride salt--my first time with AMT in two years and my first time with the salt. Predictably, due to its heavier weight it was slightly weaker than the freebase at this dose. However, the white and ODORLESS AMT hydrochloride seemed to have a significantly lighter body load (less sweating, no nausea, and no headache (though I don’t always get a headache anyways). This could be chalked up to a higher purity or a change in personal physiology though. I also IM’d (possible with the HCL in water) 5mg after being at the plateau for awhile, then again at that same dose a few hours later. 15 minutes after each injection I experienced a surge of positive emotions and physical euphoria. The visuals did not increase, but the sublimity of the experience and its emotional depth did.
HCL with 4-AcO-DMT
Later still I used 10mg of 4-AcO-DMT orally. This was stunning. I spent about a half-hour looking at pictures of roses, thrilling at their beauty as though I felt their nectar pulsing through my own veins. I listened to highly orchestrated and harmonic music as it was this kind that reflected how I felt. I also found myself making involuntary humming noises, like an instinctive mantra my body was using to reorient to or make minor self-corrections with. The combo’s aesthetic, visually and emotionally, was that of rose in bloom, supple, rich, full, bright, and organic. In fact my bathroom garbage--full to the brim with wadded up toilet paper I had used as tissues during the prior weak with a head cold--struck me as a white flower bursting from its confines in an effort of dense, overlaid petals. The sight transfixed me: the chance confluence of the waste of sickness--crumpled blooms tumbled atop one another--overflowing from a trash can and bracing itself on a toilet possessed the image and beauty of a white lotus flower. The dichotomy nearly had me weeping. It retained that impression even after I came down, and it took me until today to finally empty it...