		 DOSE:
 T+ 0:00
		 7 g
		 oral
		 Cacti - Mescaline-containing
		 (extract)

		   T+ 2:00

		 vaporized
		 Cannabis

		   T+ 2:30
		 0.5 hits
		 sublingual
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

		   T+ 6:00

		 vaporized
		 Cannabis

		   T+ 6:30

		 oral
		 Alcohol

		   T+ 0:00
		   repeated
		 vaporized
		 Cannabis

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   115 lb

I swallowed the seven grams of encapsulated mescaline tar with a 15 oz bottle of orange juice following a hike with my dog.  It was the first thing I’d had in about twenty-four hours, since 8:30 or so the night before.  I wanted to dose early; mescaline takes a while to set in and lasts a long time, and I was already tired from sleeping poorly over the two previous nights.

Capsules downed, I started up the truck and rolled out of the parking lot.  The drive home was only twenty minutes or so, and I knew from experience that I wouldn’t feel anything for another hour at the earliest, probably longer.

Upon arriving home, I found out that my brother-in-law had taken the day off.  I’m normally the only one off on Mondays, which are my “Saturdays”, so that’s why it’s my trip day.  I stay at home for the vast majority of my trips, and prefer to be alone for them.

I stay at home for the vast majority of my trips, and prefer to be alone for them.

Not only that, but this day was a celebratory day.  Two years and ten days before, I’d taken my first psychedelic journey courtesy of some San Pedro tea.  I like marking the occasion with a mescaline trip around the same time each year, and it was the first opportunity I’d had, and a day I’d been quite looking forward to for some time.  I was mad that he’d chosen this day of all days to take off, but there was nothing I could do about it.  Capsules had already been swallowed.

I waited out the long wait by cleaning my room up, showering, vacuuming, washing dishes.  I like having everything done before a trip so I’m not left anxious by anything undone. I try to have an optimally eased mindset before embarking, and going through the routine prepares my mind for the journey ahead.

I was reading a collection of Dorothy Parker book reviews and texting with a friend when I suddenly felt like I had to lie down.  The moment I’d reclined, I was jumping back to my feet and rushing off to deal with the purge.  It wasn’t the worst I’d had, but I got some of the orange juice in my sinuses, which was on the terrible side.  I heaved out the OJ, coughed up the residual tar and bile, and was brushing my teeth and using a neti pot for my nose within a few minutes.  From point of feeling like something might be off to being done with the purge, that was the fastest transition I’ve had so far (out of the ten or so experiments I’ve had with this tar method).

This was at 10:30 AM, almost exactly two hours from ingesting.  Right on schedule.

My computer was down, so I couldn’t check my trip record to find out how long it usually takes the mescaline to hit me after throwing it up.  I hoped it would be soon.  I vaped some Sour Diesel, wishing marijuana would get things going.  I believed I could see slight movements, but  I do this all often enough that I tend to get motion if I look at something long enough whenever I’ve had some weed (which is at least once a day typically, and has been for a few years now).

Time seemed to be passing very slowly.  I listened to Portishead and Sagittarius, hoping to set a peaceful, psychedelic mood for the trip.  Already I felt as if I needed to be calmed.  Things were edgy, but I attributed that to the pot thoughts.

I watched the sun coming in through the eastern window in my bedroom, my exhaled lungfulls of vapor twisting in the light.  A small, bright parallelogram fell on the carpet.  So small.  And getting smaller.  I looked out the window and cursed the overhang shielding the neighboring room’s door to the side yard.  If it weren’t for that, I would get sunlight in here during the fall and winter, and my room wouldn’t be so freezing cold at this time of year.

I thought about our hemisphere of the earth tilting away from the sun during these days, going farther and farther away.  The days grow shorted, everything’s colder, the sun around less.  I thought of the earth’s constant rotation, the wobble, it’s tilt-a-whirl motion as it flies the elliptical path around the sun.  And the sun, also travelling a path, within an arm of the travelling spiral galaxy, all of us spinning in empty blackness.  I felt like if I paid enough attention, I’d be able to feel the hurtling speeds.

I checked my phone’s clock every few minutes, waiting in exciting anticipation and time-diluted trip space.  Time was dragging by, and I’d set myself a schedule.  “Well, are you going to do it?”

Yes, but I wanted to wait until 11:00.

At 10:58 I stood up and got the wooden treasure chest out of my stash drawer.  From within the chest, I pulled out half of a tab of Avatar blotter.  Word has it they are about 170 micrograms each, but I don’t know if you can trust word.  If that’s the case, this bit would ring in at somewhere between 70-80 mcg.  It’s not an exact science (thank you, government, for ensuring that).

It was under my tongue at 10:58.

I laid back, watching things around the room start to come to life.  I felt like 7 grams of mescaline tar wouldn’t be enough (when I’d previously done just fine on similar amounts).  I wanted things to be going stronger.

That isn’t why I took the acid, though.  I’ve taken mescaline a dozen or so times, an acid probably an equal amount, but I’ve never taken them together.  And since I was celebrating, I figured why not?  I was also considering adding some MDMA, but was feeling so paranoid about serotonin syndrome that I didn’t want to risk having a bad trip worrying about it.  There was also a bit of ketamine I was considering, but after experiencing ego death the last time I’d done it (with LSD and MDMA), I kept it in the back of my mind.

I took a swig of Coke and felt something foreign in my mouth, perhaps a piece of food that had become dislodged from whatever toothy hiding spot it had been sequestered in.  Flicking it out with my tongue in disgust, I realized it was my blotter rectangle.  Somehow I’d momentarily forgotten that I had that in there.  I swallowed it soon thereafter.

My plan had been to take 50mg MDMA at noon and then meditate, staggering the doses and hopefully peaking as I came out of the meditation.  Nearing noon, I decided I’d wait to find out what combining the two powerful psychedelics was like before adding anything else to the mix.

I decided I’d wait to find out what combining the two powerful psychedelics was like before adding anything else to the mix.

The meditation was okay, but not one of my best sessions.  With my computer out of commission, I couldn’t listen to the guided session with earbuds, as I always do.  I had to listen to it over my room stereo, and with my brother-in-law home, I was paranoid about having it on too loudly.  So it was soft and I couldn’t hear it very well, which meant it didn’t take me on the same deep journey.  Don’t know if that’s the reason, or if it’s something else, but I also didn’t get any head zaps, which I nearly always do when meditating while tripping.

About half an hour into the meditation, my sinuses began to swell.  For a few moments, I was reminded of the feeling when insufflated ketamine hits, but then I realized it was the acid.  I haven’t heard of this in other reports, but <pullquote>acid really hits me in the sinuses.  Now I got it from a reputable and trustworthy source, but what source is really reputable or trustworthy on the black market?  There’s a chance that I didn’t get acid, with all of the research iterations floating around these days.  I believe it’s acid and am sure one of the other customers would’ve complained if we’d been duped.  Anyway, the stuff always hits me in the sinuses (like pseudoephedrine does), and it also gives me the tummy rumbles.

When I came out of the meditation session about forty-five minutes later (that’ll be roughly four hours since ingesting cactus tar and two since the blotter), things were going strong.  The CEVs hadn’t impressed me too much, seeming to me mostly like the floral CEVs of acid, but darker.  But I could barely open my eyelids thanks to the soft fractalled ambiance I could not get a focus on.

The strongest visuals I get are most often those that await me when coming out of these deep meditative states.  This was no exception.  I had to keep closing and slowly reopening my eyes, it was just too much to look at.

Once I’d regained my composure somewhat, I got up to change back to music.  Any sort of activity is a great well to kill a visual trip, I’ve found.  My movements weren’t entirely smooth, but the task was easy enough, and soon I was back on my bed with Four Tet’s “There is Love in You” playing over the stereo.  It’s a great psychedelic album, and one I was particularly fond of at the time.

I decided that no, I wasn’t going to add MDMA.  Things were going very strongly already, movements and color changes to my surroundings being very animated.  And my eyes already felt as if they were having trouble with all the stimulation; I thought adding some nystagmus to that would be a bad idea.

I was quite surprised by the strength of it all, actually.  7 grams is a decent dose, but not a huge one.  And I’d had the other half of that blotter square a couple of weeks beforehand, and it had done very little.  What I was experiencing was different from the previous trips I’d had on either substance alone, and they seemed to be strengthening each other exponentially.

When the Four Tet album was done, I decided to put on “Person Pitch”, which had been the album I’d listened to repeatedly for my first thirteen-plus hour trip.  And it was all going well and good, until “Bros” came on.

“Bros” is that song for me, that one you tell people is “your” song, the one that best represents you.  The last time I’d heard it tripping, I was on LSD and MDMA (which hadn’t quite kicked in, sadly), seeing it performed live.  That night, I’d gone home, put on the album, and snorted a bump of ketamine.  When I came back from ego death, I was stuck on the repetitive part of “Bros”, fighting to get back to my body and filled with anxiety and mortal dread.

So I couldn’t have been too surprised when the anxiety came back, just as soon as I got to the post ego-death part of the song.  I recognized what was happening and tried to talk myself through it, but nothing was going to make me feel better as long as that song was playing.  Just like I’d done when I heard it post-ketamine, I had to pull myself off of my bed and change the music.

Watch out for these drugs, kids.  You never know when they’re going to ruin your favorite song for you (at least I can still listen to it sober fine).

I was unsettled after that.  I didn’t know what music to put on that would fix the situation, so I put my iPod on random and started up on the vape again, figuring some weed might normalize me.

It was about 2:30 in the afternoon.  Whole lot of tripping to go, according to my calculations.  Mescaline hits after a few hours and lasts twelve, acid hits after two and lasts six or more.  Damn…so much time to go.

I wasn’t feeling that great anymore.  None of the usual body euphoria from mescaline was hitting me.  I felt okay, but not great.  The anxiety was slow to leave, and I was full of fear of dying (not from the drugs, just in the inevitable sense).  Also very thirsty, but then again, I’d thrown up everything I’d had in the early part of the day, aside from that Coke.  I drank glass after glass of water.  Didn’t want to eat yet, though.

I laid down on my bed and watched the indescribably beautiful colors on the underside of a CD as they shifted and blended.  One of the many issues I have with the current status of psychedelics in modern (and historic) Western culture is that there hasn’t yet been much of a need to develop a psychedelic language.  These things just can’t be described in sober words, but as long as the majority of people go on never experiencing them, there’s little point to coming up with the vocabulary to communicate like-mind to like-mind.  So I’m forced to use sober language to describe the psychedelic realm, and words like “rainbow”, “fractal” and “geometry” just don’t cut it.

I’m forced to use sober language to describe the psychedelic realm, and words like “rainbow”, “fractal” and “geometry” just don’t cut it.

And another problem is, well-intentioned that I am, I honestly don’t know if what I’m doing is going to ultimately be helpful for me or not.  There’s no psychedelic support group that I’m personally aware of, though I know they exist.  I take these drugs and I listen to these guided meditation sessions which are supposed to be therapeutic, but my main problem comes with integration.  What I want is a real guide, who knows the substances and what they’re doing to my psyche and mind (even someone whom I can go to in order to ask about the brain zaps and why they tend to get worse in these meditative states – my theory is that the brain is shocking itself back into a state of awareness as the mind enters the bodiless realms).  Because while I’ve educated myself and go on learning more, there are plenty of people out there who have self-educated themselves into delusion.  What we need is a new model of the shaman.

The mescaline seemed dulled, somehow.  It was lacking its sharpness, both mentally and visually.  Of what I’ve ingested, mescaline gives the most “magnified” sort of visual activity – it’s very cellular.  Thoughts have tended to be peaceful and mostly comfortable.  And the body euphoria!  But that pleasant edge was gone.  “Unfocused” is what I wrote in my notebook (and what fun I had writing, struggling to get through words one letter at a time, staring delightedly at the page as the script took form on it).  I considered doing some automatic writing, but I didn’t want to use up a page of the notebook for the sort of insanity I expected would come from that.

It was nearing 3:00 and I’d eaten nothing all day, so I put some taquitos in the oven.  Drank a hard cider along with plenty of water.  Don’t think the alcohol affected me much at all.  Ate hungrily, but slowly.  The tastes of the cheesy bean filling and salsa I was dipping in them were abnormally noticeable, really jumping out on my tastebuds.

Things seemed to wind down a bit after this, early as it was.  I vaped more weed and put Four Tet on again, listening to the album on repeat for the rest of the adventure.

Around 5:30 I felt exhausted, and a headache was coming on.  I’d thought the two would have me going late into the night, but perhaps the combination was flaming out, my mind depleted early on from the toll they were exacting.  I vaped more weed every hour or so, hybrids and indicas, hoping to rid myself of the ache in my head.  And it would work for a while, but then it would wear off and the pain would return.  Or maybe too much weed was responsible.

My eyes felt worn out, so I turned off the lights and spent the early evening hours watching the room grow darker.  The clouds painted on the ceiling were moving lackadaisically, hardly animated any more.  It was only 7:30 PM or so.  A short-lived trip for either substance.

I had some cannabis wax around 8:30 or 9 PM, and fell asleep shortly thereafter.

Unlike most post-trip mornings when I wake up feeling fine, I had a massive headache when I woke up around 6:00 AM or so (a typical waking time for me).  I felt like I’d done something I needed to recover from, and was glad to have the day off to do it.

I was happy to have first tried this combination at home, and glad that I had started conservatively.  The experiment was done with festivals in mind, but I doubt that I’ll ever put the two together in an environment like that.  If I do try it again, it’ll be in nature, somewhere comfortable where I’m not likely to be disturbed by anyone.  I still wonder whether going for the flip with the added MDMA would be worth it (mescaline + MDMA is one of my favorite combinations, but one I’m cautious about employing), but it’s a question I’m willing to wait for a future experiment to answer.

Exp Year: 2011	ExpID: 93375

Gender: Female

Age at time of experience: 29

Published: May 1, 2019	Views: 2,388

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Cacti - Mescaline-containing (809), LSD (2) : Hangover / Days After (46), Combinations (3), Alone (16)

</pullquote>


		 DOSE:

		 2 hits
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   90 kg

Location: Sydney, Australia

My new flatmate L was playing his first gig at a cool bar. I was keen to turn up and show some support.

On a couple of previous occasions, I had 1. Microdosed a 10th of a tab and gone to work. 2. Microdosed half a tab, 3. Taken a full tab and stayed up all night translating the Vulgate into English. I recalled that the full tab of acid didn’t really have much noticeable effect – almost no visuals and the headspace wasn’t particularly different. In retrospect this was probably due to the rapid tolerance buildup of psychedelics (I was unaware of this at the time). In any case, due to my lackluster experience tripping on a single tab, I decided that this time I would take two.

I took the two tabbies as I left the house and headed to the bus stop to catch a bus. I donned my “trippercunt sunnies” – diffraction glasses that split light into its component colours. I also wore my most expensive shirt, a mambo “roses” loud shirt that hasn’t been in print for years and regularly sells for over $300AUD on ebayau. This fact became highly relevant the next morning.

I quickly arrived at the venue, while still coming up, and rubbed my hands as I looked at the décor: The furniture all was semi-transparent and illuminated from within with many and various colours, purple, pink, blue, red, green. There was also all sorts of psychedelic and spiritual art hanging on the walls. I instantly got good vibes as I knew this was gonna be a kickass trip.

I found a seat middle and centre in front of the stage and listened to the opening solo act by HF, who is a regular opener in the Sydney gigging scene. I had invited my other flatmate (little A)’s sister S to come along too, and she arrived during the opening act. We chatted as I was coming up about her new job and my current job hunt and uni studies.

Eventually HF concluded his act and my flatmate L and his band mounted the stage. All of a sudden I started getting WILD visuals. My flatmate L has a bit of a hunch, but his lead guitarist was standing tall and straight. It suddenly hit me hard just how short L looked next to this guy. And now that the acid was kicking in, he looked like even more of an oompa loompa because his bass guitar was so damn massive. All of the colours of the lights, the curtains, the stage the walls started popping and jumping. The rug that the band was standing on started to melt and wave and the patterns on it looked like live snake sorta things. I could read every little expression on the faces of the members of the band. L looked so excited and happy that the gig was going well. He kept breaking out into these nervous but happy smiles whenever the crowd applauded. Seemed like I wasn’t the only one having a good trip.

I just sat there, shuffling in my seat due to the body load, but not feeling “bad” in any way whatsover. The gig was amazing. The entire show felt like a religious experience. I felt as if I was God, and this band was giving me glory. The fact that so many people gathered together to watch this performance felt as if it had some sort of cosmic significance. As if this is the meaning of life and the pinnacle of human achievement. I started thinking that the story of history is the story of the emergence of God: In the beginning there was nothing, and from that nothing sprung everything, and via evolution, humanity emerged, and with humanity, beauty, truth and goodness. I started to perceive that mankind is on a trajectory towards God, and that final moment of history IS God.

These were the utterly crazy theological and philosophical thoughts I was thinking, and they only got even more intense as the next band mounted the stage. This band was hilarious: on the right side of the stage were three really cool looking dudes with badass haircuts, clothing and moustaches, playing drums, keys and bass. On the left side of the stage was this super geeky looking guy playing guitar. His parents were in the crowd and got a shoutout. In the centre of the stage was what I can only describe as a goddess. This girl with a perfect feminine figure, just the right amount of makeup, brilliant, revealing attire that showed off her physical goods and beauty. While tripping hard on the acid, I was struck to the core by beauty and mystery of the feminine form. I felt drawn to it on a deep and profound metaphysical, essential level of my being. Suddenly I was reconsidering my vocation: Do I REALLY want to enter the priesthood (I had been discerning priesthood for about three years and up to this point, was super committed to signing up)? Considering that the mystery of the feminine has captured my heart in such a fundamental way, perhaps this is some sign from God that my vocation actually involves marriage?

I continued thinking all these thoughts, and absorbing the beauty of this diva with my eyes as they played their set. The sensation that I was God and these people were here to worship and glorify me intensified.

The sensation that I was God and these people were here to worship and glorify me intensified.

 The visuals exploded. I noticed every little detail that presented itself to me through my five cardinal senses simultaneously.

Finally, the headline act went on. I was tingling with excited anticipation as I saw the final band wheel their instruments onto the stage. “Holy fucking shit” I thought to myself, “these cunts are playing a fucking HARP and CELLO!” It was a three piece band, with keys, harp and cello. I still felt like God, and as the weirdly dressed keys player gave commentary and introduced the songs, I got this fascinating train of thought that was something like “Look at what my little people are doing, gathering to offer praise and worship to me. Look at how far they’ve come.”

As the harp and the cello and keys started playing, I just lost my shit, in the best kinda way. I could perceive all the infinite microtones as the bow crossed the strings of the cello, as if it were an auditory fractal. It was simply the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my entire life. And the music was in a slightly sad and melancholy key. The emotions that were being conveyed by the music  were ineffable and beautiful and sad. It felt as if the entire story of history was encapsulated in the song: All the ups, all the downs. The tragedies and the victories. And it just felt as if it was a “movement forward”, as if there is only one direction we can go: onwards and upwards to the heights of heaven.

“It just keeps getting better” I remember thinking to myself. “This is heaven”. I was experiencing infinite bliss, but not just infinite bliss, infinitely INCREASING bliss. This beatific vision was completely exponential! And yet the sad notes in the music made me remember. Remember all the tragedies of life and history, remember the holocausts, genocides, rapes and murders. And all of a sudden, for the first time in my life, I was struck with the full force of the mystery of evil. “What even is evil?” I remember whispering to my flatmate L, who had resumed his seat in the crowd. I simply couldn’t comprehend it. I knew from my theological studies that evil has no inherent existence or reality, that it is a complete illusion, and suddenly I realised just how mysterious that is.

It just seemed so baffling to me, that here I am, experiencing the heavenly joy that comes from listening to the angelic music of the eschaton, and yet ISIS is out there lopping heads off at this very moment. It just didn’t seem right. Like, of course this is a wonderful moment and I am enjoying it to the full, but fuck; what am I supposed to make of the fact that Hitler did what he did to the Jews? How should I understand this supreme symphony of good, in light of the incomprehensible mystery of evil? These thoughts occupied me all the way to the end of the gig.

How should I understand this supreme symphony of good, in light of the incomprehensible mystery of evil? These thoughts occupied me all the way to the end of the gig.

At no point did the trip actually become a “bad trip”, but I started to take on a strong sense of apprehension and anticipation. Somewhere deep down, I realised that tonight was to be the night where God (me) confronts evil and attempts to make sense of it. And I realised that this fundamental interplay between good and evil is what is driving all of reality as we know it.

As the gig was over, I exited with my flatmate L and we headed for the bus stop. Now that the supreme beauty of the music had concluded, the trip started to get very confusing. I remember saying to L something about how girls don’t exist, and all girls are evil. I was pondering the fundamental dualisms of masculine and feminine, good and evil, and I was drawing some link between light, goodness and masculinity, and another link between darkness, evil and femininity. I thought of the story of Adam and Eve, and how Eve (the feminine) was the principle which introduced sin into the world. L had no clue what I was talking about, and probably was amused at just how hard I was tripping. I began to distrust him, thinking that he was an enemy in some respect. I hadn’t known him for very long after all.

As we got to the bus stop, L called an uber and hopped in with his girlfriend. I decided to walk home. That turned out to be a very bad idea.

I walked down the road, still thinking I was God, but this time the thought had a very Christian slant on it. I thought that I was Jesus. I was relating my trip to the gospel stories. I felt as if I had just descended from heaven to earth, and right about now the temptation in the desert was probably due to occur. As I walked home, pondering the mystery of evil, the insanity started to overcome me. It just sorta crept up on me as I was philosophising. It was as if wondering about evil with such intensity was driving me mad.

I started to feel as if I am invincible, and made the stupid decision to stop by a servo and buy a supersized energy drink.

I started to feel as if I am invincible, and made the stupid decision to stop by a servo and buy a supersized energy drink.

 I seriously doubt that the massive caffeine and sugar hit had a positive impact. I even realised this at the time, and was thinking to myself “I am going to die tonight. And when they find me, it’s gonna make the newspapers and they’ll comment on how the exact moment where it all went downhill was when I decided to smash an energy drink while high as fuck on acid”.

My thinking started to get more and more scrambled. And the thoughts loops got more and more intricate. Eventually I made it to the local maccas and decided I wanted to get something to eat. I stood in front of the touch screen interface where you order your food, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure it out. I kept touching and selecting and there was just something that wasn’t working. At the time I figured the system was bugged, but in retrospect I was probably just tripping really hard.

I felt like I was standing in front of that touch screen for an eternity, punching the options and trying so hard to buy something. Notions of “Limbo” and “purgatory” became stuck in my mind, and I felt as if I had failed in my temptation in the wilderness and was being punished with this eternal torture of eternally trying to order dinner and not being able to.

Eventually I managed to snap out of it, say “Fuck it” and get out of the maccas. But my delusions of grandeur were multiplying. As I walked through the carpark, I started throwing my wallet and phone away, thinking “I don’t need these”. I felt as if I was living out the most important moment of my life, and it was like “I don’t need a phone. There are more important things. I don’t need a wallet.”

I started to feel as if no matter what I do, I can’t die. I felt as if even if I stepped out into the traffic, something would stop me from being run over. I felt as if it was not yet my time to die, and I could therefore do any stupid thing and be ok. This was clearly VERY dangerous thinking.

I felt as if it was not yet my time to die, and I could therefore do any stupid thing and be ok. This was clearly VERY dangerous thinking.

 Following that train of thought, I ended up knocking on the door of two of the brothels. There are a craptonne of brothels on this road. Usually I just walk past them and laugh, but I had always been curious about what goes on inside, and I was in the perfect mindset to ring the bell and find out. I was let in to both of them, but very quickly ferried out once the mistresses realized I had no money on me.

I was descending even deeper into madness. By the time I got to the empire hotel, I was thinking about the orthodox “holy fools” of Russia. These crazy dudes who get naked and wander around the towns and villages prophesying. I started to feel as if I was one such holy fool, with a message that could save the world. That idea, coupled with my sensation of invincibility, caused me to unbutton my shirt and cast it off into the wind and the night. As I crossed the road, I dropped my pants and underpants, and kicked off my shoes and socks.

I was stark naked, rambling on and on about good and evil, walking around. Thankfully it was a very quiet residential part of town, so I’m pretty sure not many people saw me, but still it was an incredibly wacky occurrence.

Eventually I made it home, but I didn’t have my keys on me because I had thrown them away back at maccas. I ended up pacing in loops between my front door and the front door of the house beside ours. My philosophizing was in overdrive. I was thinking about the trinity, dualism, masculine, feminine, the whore of Babylon, the virgin Mary, Jesus etc etc etc.

My drug induced insanity just kept getting worse. Eventually, failing to get in to my house, I instead continued to walk around the suburb, and eventually found myself walking in circles around the local catholic church, where the capuchin friars live. The visuals were labyrinth by this point. Not good, not bad, just alien and weird. I was stuck in insane thought loops, and the trip was oscillating between good, bad and neutral. When I was feeling good, I was anticipating that at any point it would head south, and when it headed south, I was holding onto the gospel promise that it’s all gonna be ok in the end and eventually I would return to the good. This was clinical insanity.

One common theme that kept recurring was the idea that “the unknown” could intrude into my reality at any time. And I was prophesying to myself as I walked around naked around the church that “yes, at some point tonight, something unexpected is gonna happen that sends me to hell.” Well, lo and behold, as I found myself pressing my naked body against the cold outer wall of the church for some reason, a cop appeared. Soon there were more cops. They asked me what I’d taken. I wanted with all my heart to cooperate and answer their questions honestly, but I was tripping so hard by this point that it was a struggle to communicate with them. They ended up pulling me aside and sitting me down on the concrete, as they tried to establish who I was, where I live, what I had taken, what the fuck I was doing naked running in circles around the local church at midnight etc.

I was very much in “bad trip” territory by this point. The cops were relentlessly asking me the same questions over and over again. “Where do you live?”, “Do you have any flatmates?”, “What’s your name?”, “How old are you?”, “Have you taken anything tonight?”

At one point one of the male officers laughed out loud and said “He’s the priest!” and I just felt so full of shame, thinking that I legitimately was the priest and was setting a terrible example and letting down the parish and the church and God. Suddenly one of the officers was saying “Look at his passport photo! He looks like a criminal!”. I was so utterly confused, thinking “how the fuck do they have my passport?”

After what felt like an eternity of shame and horror, the officers chucked me in the back of the paddywagon and locked me up. I felt resigned to my fate. I figured I was about to go to prison, my family was going to be notified, my life was coming to an end. The ride in the back of the police wagon felt like forever.

But wow what good luck I had. When the door of the wagon opened, I found myself out the front of my house, with L standing there at the front door looking sleepy, annoyed and bemused. I hopped out, walked up the steps and went straight inside to the shower.

The cops must have been able to accurately extract my address from me during the earlier interrogations on the concrete at the church. One of them had driven over, knocked on the door and asked L to confirm that I live there. L had gone to my room, found my passport and proved that I was a resident. So instead of locking me up for the night they just kindly drove me home. I was so infinitely thankful that it turned out like that, rather than something worse.

But I was still shaken up by the experience. As I hid under the covers of my bed, I had to leave the lights on so that I could stare at my clock and verify that time had passed and time was passing. The insanity was wearing off, but I was still terrified that at any time I could discover that it was all a dream, and I was actually in a prison cell or somewhere worse. I remember going down and brewing some tea and holding my head in my hands while praying “Oh God, please tell me it was a dream, please tell me it didn’t really happen”.

I managed to rest up a little. When I woke up, I discovered that it was NOT just a dream and it DID really happen, and I knew this because I didn’t have my phone, my wallet, my shoes, or my $300 loud shirt. I had to retrace my steps and literally pick up the pieces. I couldn’t remember where I had dumped all my stuff on the way home, and I had to make use of apple’s “find my iphone” app to locate all my stuff. I ended up finding everything except for my shoes, socks, watch, drink bottle and loud shirt. It had rained during the night, so my shorts and underpants (which I found in the middle of the road) were soaking wet.

In the end, I learned so much from the experience, and I don’t regret it. But It was the first time that I realized that bad trips can involve the police, and actual bad things happening, rather than just psychological terror.

It was the first time that I realized that bad trips can involve the police, and actual bad things happening, rather than just psychological terror.

 I have tripped many times since then, but not on acid. This trip taught me that acid is psychologically next level, and 25i-nbome is actually a safer drug in terms of the headspace.

This trip directly led to me reconsidering my vocation. After being so utterly fascinated by evil, darkness, the feminine, I figured God might be calling me to move away from ordination and instead investigate relationships with girls again. Maybe I’ll get married? At time of writing (A couple of months after this trip), I’ve picked up a new girlfriend. The future is bright, and even from a bad trip, good lessons are learned.

Exp Year: 2019	ExpID: 113089

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 25

Published: May 8, 2019	Views: 5,115

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LSD (2), Police / Customs (60) : Train Wrecks &amp; Trip Disasters (7), Bad Trips (6), Various (28)


		 DOSE:

		 1 hit
		 sublingual
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   195 lb

[Erowid Note:
Claims of measured microgram dosages for LSD are usually unsupported. Quantitative measurements for LSD are very difficult to do and cannot be done casually. Without further detailed information about how the measurements were derived, it is reasonable to assume that most statements of microgram dosages of LSD on blotter or in microdots are either misinformed or overstated.]

My first (long-awaited) encounter occurred last night, taken with a friend.  The dosage was reckoned to be about 200-260 ug each.  As preparation, I remained caffeine and alcohol free all week prior to our experiment.

We took the blotters in the morning, about 10:30am, as we knew from reading about it that it would last about 8 hours or so and didn't want to be falling asleep through taking it in the evening, not being particularly rock n roll. We ate a light breakfast beforehand.  We put the blotters under our tongues for 1/4 hour and then swallowed them, settling down with a quality episode of Star Trek while waiting for the fun to begin.

Half an hour later, I started to feel the effects - a slight urge to smile and fidget, colours looking a little brighter, a need to move around.

I started to feel the effects - a slight urge to smile and fidget, colours looking a little brighter, a need to move around.

Which we did, and went out into the yard to look at the trees there, which were starting to look interesting.  Unfortunately it was a cold and wet day, and not ideal for sitting there.  We put music on in the house but didn't feel like sitting inside, as we both felt that we wanted to be closer to nature.  So we walked to the public gardens, where we happily spent the next 6 hours, shuffling round and 'wowwing' at all the plants, looking at them in the greatest detail.

The effects were milder than expected.  I had expected a major freakout, possible big hallucinations, possibly even the urge to see if I could fly.  Nothing of the sort occurred.  There was one point where the visuals in the garden turned very interesting, sort of like a bubbly wave effect.  It was like the main part of the image was relatively normal, but blocks around the outside were zooming into focus in a circular fashion, with parts of the centre bubbling randomly into sharper focus.  I was thinking then that if this hit any heavier I might have difficulty appearing normal.  Luckily this didn't last long.  The trees looked like a Japanese Zen Garden.  The design of flowers was fascinating to both of us.  I didn't feel I needed to be with my friend all the time, but as the garden had the appearance of massively increasing in size, I found it very comforting to see that she was close by.

After many laps of the garden, 6 hours had passed and the effects were wearing off, with scenery still pleasing to the eye but the desire to inspect everything disappearing.  We walked back to the house.

The only adverse effect I noticed (my friend didn't) was a very dry mouth for the rest of the evening.  No negative effects the day after, just a nice calm, relaxed feeling.

Overall, this experience was and wasn't what I expected.  It was in the sense that it was similar to substances that I'd taken before which I had thought would be like it.  The visuals were close to those on mushrooms, but I felt calmer, as if I had taken an E, without the nausea that usually accompanies mushrooms for me.  I didn't find I thought much, there were no great insights.  Pleasantly, there was no paranoia.

here were no great insights.  Pleasantly, there was no paranoia.

It wasn't what I expected in the sense that there were no big hallucinations, no urge to fly, to run screaming from the garden straight into the nearest psychiatric hospital, or to effect a massive lifestyle change - all of which media reports tend to hint at.  No urge to start a '60s revival revolution occurred, although we did think that perhaps we should embrace our approaching middle age and go to gardens more often.  Perhaps the most startling revelation was that we were turning into our parents...

Have I made this sound boring?  It wasn't, it was very enjoyable, and a peaceful, happy way to spend a day.

Exp Year: 2012	ExpID: 95969

Gender: Female

Age at time of experience: 30

Published: May 21, 2019	Views: 1,709

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LSD (2) : Public Space (Museum, Park, etc) (53), Nature / Outdoors (23), First Times (2)


		 DOSE:

		 1 hit
		 oral
		 LSD

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   145 lb

It was a beautiful Friday in early summer. Some friends had found an abandoned mansion in the forest, and had planned for months to throw something of an Acid Test in it. I knew there would be lots of creativity, lots of good energy, and lots of excitement. Mentally, I couldn't have been better prepared, anticipating this kind of environment of organic and collaborative creation. The whole day, I felt full of a certain kind of charm, akin to what I feel when I watch the movie Begin Again. It's a beautiful, romantic feeling, breathtaken, and open to give myself to the world, like how I feel when I first meet a new love interest. I don't know how else to describe it.

I took one tab of absolutely fantastic acid around 11 am and went to help set up the mansion. It was my second time taking a full dose.

It was my second time taking a full dose.

It was a very feminine trip. I am a man. I imagine the setting of creativity influenced this to a great degree - after all, creativity is associated with femininity. But more than that, it felt like having a period or giving birth. Not in an uncomfortable way. Not that I've done either of those, but it was an inexplicable feeling, and distinctly feminine. It felt like pushing something I had worked on for ages out into the world.

Perhaps the reason was because I met my Shadow. What do I mean by that? The Jungian archetype of the Shadow is constituted of every trait of yours that society has deemed unbecoming, and told you to repress: annoying habits, selfish tendencies, uncomfortable remarks. These - which are ultimately part of you; after all, they came from your young, unaltered self - get pushed down into your subconscious, where they begin to form a different You, an equal and opposite You, a Hyde to your Jekyll, an Enkidu to your Gilgamesh. About 4 hours into the trip, after I had been hanging out in this mansion for a while, helping set up and all for the party that was to come, I realized it was time to go back to practice with my band for an hour, after which I would come back to the mansion. I went with a friend, and we walked back through the woods. There were some edible plants (trout lily) along the way, and we each ate a few. This was when my Shadow manifested. I swallowed a leaf, and as I finished the swallow, I realized there was something stuck in my throat. It wasn't the leaf. In fact, it wasn't anything I had eaten. I swallowed and swallowed and couldn't get rid of it. It felt like a second tongue, not split like the way snakes' tongues are, but lying on top of my regular tongue. It felt very strongly as though there was a second person inside me, trying to come out. This was my Shadow. For the past 20 years, I had been growing, working on myself, and, unbeknownst to me, my Shadow had been growing too, hidden from me. It felt like I wanted to vomit my Shadow out, to give birth to it in some way

It felt like I wanted to vomit my Shadow out, to give birth to it in some way

 (hearkening back to the feminine, birthing feeling), and it was honestly quite weird, even a little scary. I wasn't sure if this feeling would ever go away. (It did, but not until the next day.) I cannot stress enough how much I felt I was seeing a birth, even giving birth to this second Me.

I realized that this could be encapsulated by the idea that Infinity is the new One. You work on something, you perfect it, you grow it (in this case, 'it' is myself), but once it has reached infinity, perfection, the Yang to my Yin emerges, just as perfect, and the dialectic of reconciling the two begins anew, another infinite process. Pure math has addressed this quite a bit, too. Cantor's theory of Ordinal Numbers, and Conway's Surreal Number system involve counting up and up, generating numbers as you go, until you reach infinity. Then, you count by infinities: one-infinity, two-infinity, until you reach infinity squared. Then you count by infinity-squared's, and every time you reach a limit, that limit becomes your new increment, your new One. I saw this everywhere. In nature, an unfathomable amount of work goes into making a tree: millions of years of evolution, and then many years of the tree itself growing. But once it's grown, it's just a product, and ivy takes it over, using it as if it was just a finite thing. The steam engine took forever to invent, but once it was created, everyone could use it, could just count by steam engines. Infinity is the new One.

I got back, and was a little late to band practice. During this time, I developed a very strange vision. It was as if in a film, where someone had broken the fourth wall, and punched the camera, fracturing the lens such that all subsequent shots had a rift through the middle, the top half slightly offset from the bottom half. Look up the advertisement for the film Divergent; the title is akin to this sort of vision. What's more, the top half looked to be seen through a Good, Jekyll-y perception, while the bottom half was twisted, Evil, and Hyde-y. Everyone and everything I looked at had these dual aspects to them. It was really bizarre, but quite entertaining.

I was extremely aware, during this time, of the dualistic male/female dynamic. For example, my band's bassist, a man, kept interrupting one of our singers, a woman, which really irritated me. He would try to shoot down her belief in Qi, for example, by parroting scientific experiments that he obviously had only seen a buzzfeed article about, or something. He didn't know how the experiment had been run, he didn't know what the results meant, he didn't know what Qi even was, he just knew he had to be right and it had to not exist. Idiot.

I'm not sure how long the Jekyll/Hyde vision lasted, maybe a little over an hour. It subsided at some point, and I went back to the mansion. I experienced a very interesting synchronicity as I arrived again. There was music blasting, but I could only barely hear it. As I emerged from the forest, I was running, with my arms up and hands in the V for Victory, and some good friends were in a circle on the lawn, and as I became visible to them, the music began to swell, until it was a glorious - dare I say - peak, timed perfectly for me to jump into the arms of my friend who had seen me and ran my way to greet me. There was so much love in that moment, and everyone agreed it was uncanny how perfectly the music had anticipated my arrival.

The next 6 or so hours, until midnight, were the comedown. People were passing around a vial of acid and just taking sips from it, it was hilarious. Some interesting synchronicities and thought-loops happened, but none of them worth mentioning here. I still had the dual tongue feeling in the back of my throat, and still felt very feminine and creative, but wasn't exactly 'tripping' any more.

The next day, I awoke and could slightly feel my Shadow's tongue. It dissipated by the end of that day.

I felt renewed, expanded. I had experienced the other side of life.

Exp Year: 2017	ExpID: 110856

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 20

Published: May 26, 2019	Views: 1,791

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LSD (2) : Therapeutic Intent or Outcome (49), Entities / Beings (37), Glowing Experiences (4), Large Group (10+) (19)


		 DOSE:

		 2 hits
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   67 kg

I was supposed to be tripping with my boyfriend and three friends, however on the day my bf wasn’t feeling like it, one of my friends decided to be a sober sitter and the other was out of contact and came over to trip after the final friend and I had already been tripping for a few hours. On a whim, I had taken 2 tabs instead of my usual one, because my friend was taking 2.5 (he has a ridiculous tolerance for drugs and the usual dose we take only makes him slightly giggly, so we decided to try a higher dose. He also takes 300mg of MDMA to feel any high at all). I though fuck it, I’d accompany him on this high dose (incidentally double the dose I had ever done). I had taken acid maybe 4 or 5 times. None of them were like this.

Initially we switched on the Scooby Doo movie, and whilst it started out kind of funny, it just became more and more unsettling after a while. My friend was started to freak out with his breathing as he felt for the first time LSD kicking in and I followed him to the floor of the kitchen and out of that atmosphere in the living room and got him to breathe and cool down with me (drink water and chill out, he was pouring with sweat, he runs at a high temperature and the restless LSD comeup was not helping). Anyway, I got him and myself sorted again, and we went back to the living room where we changed to listening to music. We bobbed along to the music, mirroring each other identically, as visuals began kicking in harder for me.

Around this time I messaged my boyfriend asking him to come over. He appeared upset on the phone, and I remembered that I had stupidly left him on a sad note, and I was not planning to stand for it. I insisted that if he wasn’t coming here (we lived a few streets away from my friend’s house), then I was going there. My friends tried to dissuade me, but my mind was entirely set. By this point the rough coming up energy was finally evening out to the beautiful, colourful, clear and deep visuals that I adore on LSD. I said I was completely fine to walk home alone if I must, because my sheer determination was so strong. Luckily my sober friend was having none of it and eventually began to walk me home since my mind was set.

It was on the walk home that I began to realise that I was far, far from evening out on the trip. My friend was talking to me about his little sister and how he went skiing with her as we walked; in the meantime, my vision had split. On the one hand I could still see my friend and surroundings and hold the conversation going, on the other hand – visions began to appear in my mind that were just as clear and real to me as my surroundings. I could see them in full as well as what was physically around me. It is lucky that brains can see multiple dimensions and things at once when tripping this hard, even if the visions were sometimes intruding into my surroundings. But I have never experienced this before – it wasn’t open eye visuals, it wasn’t closed eye visuals, it was mind’s eye visuals

I have never experienced this before – it wasn’t open eye visuals, it wasn’t closed eye visuals, it was mind’s eye visuals

 – as clear as day.

I began feeling the lead up to something, something big. I could see the cosmos and green celtic knots intertwining. I could hear a song playing that had been playing earlier, and the words ‘don’t try to force it’ and ‘the incredible….the incredible….the incredible ‘It’’. I saw hundreds of spiritual clichés as completely true, could hear wordplays in my mind that held significant meaning, and then all of a sudden I was slipping into being everyone. I saw myself in the eyes of an enlightened buddhist monk, a homeless person, I saw myself being cruel to my ex and for a moment I felt guilty, before I realised that my ex was also me, and that we both were me, and I slipped back into being one with everyone just as quickly.

I saw reality as a singular point – A point that all I could see was white, and it looked 2D until I looked from the side, where it refracted. It refracted into our reality – perfection that refracted into different vibrations/light/not sure what to create form and our material universe. It formed a multidimensional shape that was our reality, forms just a mere refraction of the one whole, which could be seen when I rotated back to looking from the top of the shape where it was one singular point again. I understood deeply then that this reality is eternal. That point, it had always been there, and it would always be. There was nothing else except that point. And the refractions of the point, our world, were always changing in constant flow, like the celtic knots. I could see people and environments shifting into others, changing eternally.

We got to my house and my boyfriend answered the door. I came inside and sat on the sofa with him, reeling from my realisations and the ongoing visions of the reality. I turned to him and said, ‘L, I am so happy that we will be together forever!’ because I understood that he and I were one, and we were the whole, and the whole is eternal, so we would never be apart, even if I was technically him too.

He was watching a serious program on TV where someone had cancer and police were involved with some case and that sort of thing. I was on my high of feeling one with all and the bliss and knowledge that everything was always going to be okay, everything was eternal.

I was on my high of feeling one with all and the bliss and knowledge that everything was always going to be okay, everything was eternal.

 I thought the show was a comedy and couldn’t stop laughing because I could hear the seriousness in everyone’s voices, but it was all a parody to me, and I shouted at the screen ‘you’re not going to die! We’re all eternal!’ and the characters seemed to me to be putting on more and more ridiculous tones to make me laugh with because none of that stuff that they were talking about truly mattered.

I was still seeing multidimensionally for some time and at the peak of the trip I lay on the floor with my eyes closed, seeing the flow of one life into another, over and over, in the cosmos and celtic knots. I felt bliss and lost in that moment. Eventually I began coming down, and it was by far the roughest end to a trip I have ever had – it felt like all those dimensions were suddenly being crammed into my tiny, human little head and as if 4D had been downgraded to 2D – like a highly realistic VR game being downgraded to an old arcade game. It was really hard to go back to this point of view as it wasn’t happening smoothly but in a somewhat jarring manner, like steps, and it made me feel really nauseous because of the difference in visual input all of a sudden.

I had to leave to the bedroom and listen to acoustic music in the dark to calm myself and make the transition smoother. I found that all my egoic functions were coming back one by one – I felt my shallow breathing return, I started thinking thoughts about myself that I usually do subconsciously, though I could still at this point easily distinguish between my higher perceptions and the lower vibration, not-divine egoic thoughts, and discount the latter. I also found that there were particular ways that I could lie down and perceive my surroundings that followed the ‘flow’ that I had felt and perceived. ‘Don’t force it’. This, I understood, was the Tao that my father had spoken about so highly when I was younger. I experienced the truth of this discipline.

And I also found the perfect song in that moment to explain the truth of our reality and how we are all just refractions of that one point of … light (? I do not know what it was. I barely have the language to describe the crazy multidimensionality and shapes of it all, I could have never imagined anything like this of my own accord).  The song is called Shapes in the Sun by Allman Brown.

I haven’t tripped since because I am worried that I don’t want to overwrite this amazing experience. But I may do again someday. In the meantime I have been studying Eckhart Tolle’s teachings, who describes consciousness and ego in great alignment of my own experience, as well as Taoism.

Exp Year: 2019	ExpID: 113293

Gender: Female

Age at time of experience: 23

Published: Jun 21, 2019	Views: 1,846

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LSD (2) : Small Group (2-9) (17), Mystical Experiences (9), Glowing Experiences (4)


		 DOSE:
 T+ 0:00
		 2 drops
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (liquid)

		   T+ 0:30
		 6 hits
		 smoked
		 Cannabis

		   T+ 1:00

		 oral
		 LSD
		 (liquid)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   150 lb

Let me preface this by saying that this was not my first rodeo. I had tripped on various substances more times than I could count, and subsequently I'd gotten lazy. Careless, even. I smoke cannabis almost on the daily, but I rarely drink and only on occasion have I ever taken pharms, even those prescribed to me. I thought I could handle whatever it was that I was getting myself into, and didn't bother to think that I may be overestimating my capabilities.

It all started about four months prior, when a friend and roommate (who I'll refer to as 'J') asked me if I would like to put down a fairly sizable amount of cash for what he referred to as 'a huge ass vial of acid.' I had no choice but to oblige. Over the course of those four months, the two of us, along with some other friends and roommates of ours had plenty of exciting and meaningful experiences catalyzed by the contents of this vial. On this particular day however, it was just me doing the tripping, and it was the last of it.

I got home excited for what I thought was going to be another great experience. I had somehow gotten through the last of my exams, and this was a little treat for myself. A celebration of my liberation from academia for another few weeks. As I walked into my room, I shut off the lights, locked the doors, and drew the blinds. I didn't want anyone barging in on my little ritual, even though I had informed J of my intent to trip that day.

I opened up my fridge and pulled out the vial wondering if I could even get the last bits of the stuff out. The dropper was too short by maybe a millimeter, and after a solid twenty minutes of struggling to get it out of the container I finally managed to coax the liquid into the dropper, which I quickly transferred to myself.

[T+ 0:00] 2 drops liquid LSD

Satisfied with my efforts and feeling as though I had just made some great achievement, I settled into my couch and waited for the acid to hit me. I hadn't made any plans for this trip, as I wanted to see where it would take me if I let it. I'd had trouble with 'letting go' in the past, and I felt that I was always trying to control my trips rather than experiencing them for what they were.

[T+ 0:20]

At this point J stopped by to ask me how I was doing, and to let me know that he would be having a few friends over that night, and they would be having their own little celebration with mountains of weed. He invited me to join, and I accepted, so we headed outside to smoke some weed in advance. I weighed out and ground 1.5 grams of Star Fighter I'd bought from the dispensary the day before, which we loaded into a massive bowl piece we had affectionately named the 'Bowl of Kings.'

[T+ 0:30] ~ 6 hits of Cannabis

Upon arriving outside, I noticed the usual 'coming up' feeling I get whenever I take psychedelics. We sat down on the stairs out back and passed the bong back and forth for what felt like an eternity. After my third or fourth hit I noticed that the visuals I usually associate with strong marijuana intoxication were far more vivid than I had ever seen before. I saw what looked like an infinity symbol floating around in the corner of my vision, appearing then disappearing frequently. It was green and black, the insides of the two cavities not being cavities at all, but rather more layers of the shape, in alternating stripes. Along with this I saw what I like to call the 'Golden Static' which I usually get to varying degrees when I smoke weed, but it also was far more vivid than on the weed alone. It encompassed my whole vision with a fireworks display of beautiful yellows, golds, and even blues. By the time I realized that I was focusing on these visuals rather than on smoking the bong, my trip was in full force.

[T+ 0:50]

J and I finally headed inside, after he decided he couldn't smoke anymore before his friends arrived. When I passed through the threshold into the house however, I felt as if I was completely sober again. I didn't even feel the weed anymore. I made my way to the bathroom to check my pupils, and sure enough they were dilated. I sat around waiting for the trip to come back, disappointed a little. At this point I started to wonder if I had taken enough, which is a sign to me that I was indeed still tripping. I'm usually extremely cautious when it comes to re-dosing, as I usually try to convince myself that less is more.

[T + 1:00]

This is where I made my mistake.

I went back into my room, still feeling way too sober for being on two hits of acid, looking for the vial. After I located it, I saw there was still some material clinging to the sides of the container, almost like a residue of some sort. In my not-so-apparently befuddled state, I decide to get at what was inside the vial. I poured a small amount of distilled water into the vial, and after a moment's hesitation, drank the water from inside.

I poured a small amount of distilled water into the vial, and after a moment's hesitation, drank the water from inside.

 Satisfied that I would now start my trip, I walked out the the living room where J was happily enjoying some Cheetos.

Upon sitting down I realized my mistake. The trip was back, and it occurred to me that I had no idea what sort of dosage would have been left in the container. I let J know what I did, and he suddenly became quite a bit more serious, having had a fairly intense and overwhelming experience himself in the days prior. He started to assure me that all would be well, and that what was done was done. I had to simply float downstream.

[T + 1:45]

Having sat on the couch admiring the art on the walls for the greater part of an hour, I started to feel the trip intensify far beyond the peaks I was used to. The floor started morphing in waves, and the walls dripped a shimmering ooze beyond any sort of explanation. I felt my mind take off on thousands of different thoughts that felt as if they were happening simultaneously. I watched J move about the room, and his movements seemed to have a shuttering effect. Every time he would move say, his head, I would see one side make the move, then be followed by the other only after it had completed moving. This freaked me out, and I started to wonder exactly how hard I would be tripping in say, six hours or so.

I felt a crippling fear growing inside me, and knew that this would not be a fun experience.

[T + 2:00]

I made my way back to my room in an attempt to segregate myself from the festivities that were about to begin out in the living room. I could handle people on lesser doses, but this was far too much. It was at this point that I lost track of time completely.

I began talking to myself in attempt to calm myself down, but to no avail. I began weeping as the thought of losing myself to this... monster became more and more real. I was afraid. More than I can possibly ever describe. I had reoccurring visions of my soul leaving my body, trying to escape the chaos within, only to be pulled back inside by what I could only assume was this monster.

Through all the chaos and internal violence that I was feeling, a voice started to console me, telling me that everything was okay, that I would make it. That I was only temporarily under this affliction, and that it would pass if I listened with the intent of learning. Each time it spoke, flashes of beautiful crimson light came flying out of the walls, fading with the voice. The voice spoke to me over the course of the next two hours, the topics ranging from my current plight to the plight of the Earth, my insecurities, and ultimately about love.

Over time I began to recognize the voice, and as the feeling of recognition grew, so did a feeling of sadness and loss. I was confused about this as I had a complete turn around of my previous condition, no longer gripped with fear but instead an overwhelming tranquility. I felt that I should ask the voice of its identity, but something inside me told me that I should let the subject rest, which only stoked the fires of my curiosity.

I finally mustered up the courage to ask, which I did. But I didn't need a response, and I would not get one. The voice was that of my girlfriend who had passed away about a year prior.

[T + 13:00]

As I slowly came down, I pondered over what I'd seen, felt, and heard. I do not consider myself a religious person, nor a particularly spiritual one, but I was shaken by what had taken place.

I do not consider myself a religious person, nor a particularly spiritual one, but I was shaken by what had taken place.

 I shed more tears, and slowly fell sleep. After I awoke, I could not, and still cannot make sense of the events of that night. My memory is fragmented, and only bits come to me even as I write this.

I've since taken psychedelics far more seriously, and exercise extreme caution when deciding on dosage. I've visited her grave site on multiple occasions since, and to this day I still remain compelled to believe that the voice I heard was indeed hers. Though I will never know for certain.

Exp Year: 2014	ExpID: 105294

Gender: Not Specified

Age at time of experience: Not Given

Published: Jun 29, 2019	Views: 2,101

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LSD (2) : Entities / Beings (37), Train Wrecks &amp; Trip Disasters (7), Difficult Experiences (5), Combinations (3), Various (28)


		 DOSE:

		 1 hit
		 sublingual
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   150 lb

I found myself clinging to reality in an inflatable inner tube on my driveway, holding on for dear life to any semblance of sanity I could muster. It was dark. The stars grew into criss-crossing constellations of red, yellow, and blue before my eyes.

But let me start from the beginning.

There was that vaguely metallic taste that I’d heard so much about. Kind of gross. But it supposedly signified quality acid, so I was pretty happy about it. The blotter was under my tongue, and I was flying down the sidewalk on my bike, heading for the local park where there was nice bike trail. I didn’t realize that that was not the place I would end up, that I would soon be in another state, an alien state. I’d popped the dose right before I’d left. In retrospect, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

But let me start from the real beginning.

I’d always wanted to try acid. I’d heard things. Wonderful things. And as an individual who’d always enjoyed psychoactive experiences, LSD-25 felt like a fun, interesting substance. So when my opportunity came up, I jumped for it like an excitable little boy. I now realize I was foolish to take it so lightly.

I consider myself an experienced psychoactive user. I have extensive acquaintance with cannabis, alcohol, and DXM. LSD has nothing to do with any of that. It’s in a whole different ball park. A whole different stadium. But I was skeptical. I am aware of the human capacity to aggrandize certain experiences, and I had a hunch that LSD would not be what people like Timothy Leary, Albert Hofmann, and this dude I met at a party one time had made it out to be. “Dude: Acid is fucking crazy man.” Suuuuure, dude. Whatever you say.

Now, what I really hoped for from LSD was the mystical, enlightening aspect I’d read about in books like the Doors of Perception and The Psychedelic Experience. But it all seemed “eastern-religiony.” Enlightenment. Ego-death. First, second, and third “Bardo,” whatever the hell that means. That’s why, when I decided to take one of the five hits I’d bought from a friend a few days before, I was expecting some light visuals at most; maybe a little body high. I had little concern about how I would be able to handle myself in a public park. I mean, I’d been high in public places many, many times before. So, as I said, one beautiful summer evening I dropped a dose, hopped on my bike, and took a short jaunt to the bike trail. Oh man, was I in for a surprise.

Before I even got there, around 7:30, I noticed something. I couldn’t tell you what, exactly, it was. But I knew that something was just different; odd. That metallic taste had flooded my mouth. I took a swig of water, and the great flood washed the blotter down my throat. Kid Cudi was playing on my iPod. The sun was nearing its hiding place behind the trees. A wonderful moment.

A few minutes later, I was sitting on one of the many park benches along the bike trail. It was fairly busy. Bikers and runners passing by. All of them content and sober and in reality. This is when “the drugs began to take hold.”

The visuals came first. The black pavement of the bike trail began wobbling, undulating like water from my seat on the bench. I tilted my now-heavy head to my right. Two trash cans. One blue, one green. I couldn’t tell how far away they were. Oh shit.

I decided to get up. At that point, I thought that those visuals would probably be the extent of my trip, and I wanted to try riding my bike around while feeling them. So I hopped on and rode to the next bench/picnic table area near the restrooms. Ridding the bike felt surreal. I couldn’t feel myself peddling. My head existed, I know, but I didn’t feel or notice much else about “my” body. Oh yeah: this is when I think I touched upon what they call “ego-death.”

Riding up the hill, I was overcome with certain feelings. I felt as though a statement like “I enjoy riding my bike” could not make sense. What I? Who is I? What is the essence of the designation “I”? There was the sensation that experience was not being mediated through what I formerly called my individuality.

There was the sensation that experience was not being mediated through what I formerly called my individuality.

 This was not frightening or worrisome because there was no “me’ to be scared or worried. Calmness, serenity overtook… me, I guess. Or what I would have formerly designated “me.” This was the most calm and wonderful portion of the trip. After this, around 8:30, both the sky and my mind grew darker. Things took a decided turn toward the hectic, frightening, and incredible.

All of a sudden, I look up from the picnic table, and massive hexagonal formations literally blanketed the sky. Spinning. Morphing. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I listened to the entireity of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon while examining these alien formations. I eventually look down. The bike path was oozing like lava. I look at my arm, and I feel it’s not part of “myself.” I attempt to pull my skin off, but not in a deliberately hard or violent way. It was more of a gentle exploration of my new environment. Re-birth. Everything was new, and as I tugged on my skin, I did feel sensation, yet I still felt that it wasn’t “me.” Me was lost. Feet on the air, head on the ground.

I knew I shouldn’t have gone into that god-forsaken forest.

Remember when I said, “this is when the drugs began to take hold”? Fuck that. This is when the drugs became the dry cement holding up the steel girders of my consciousness. Remember that scene from Fight Club where Tyler and Ed Norton are riding in a car, talking about project Mayhem? “Hey! I wanna know certain things! I wanna know what you’re thinking,” Norton cries. “Fuck what you know,” Tyler responds. “You need to forget about what you know, what you think you know about life, friendship, and especially about you and me.”

Tyler is acid, I’m Ed Norton, and yes, we are becoming the same person.

Tyler straps his seatbelt on, puts the pedal to the metal, and lets go of the steering wheel. Soon they are flying into oncoming traffic. I franticly try to grab the steering wheel, and acid’s like “Look at you! You’re fucking pathetic. This is not a weekend retreat. Stop trying to control everything. Just let go.”

Fine.

It was becoming night. Stars were beginning to twinkle, and I’d managed to find a heavily-forested path shooting away from the bike trail.

“Walk in, man. Go ahead. It’ll be trippy.” Who said that?

It was pitch black inside the forest. I found the end of the trail, meeting a shallow river. I saw little, mostly morphing and moving darkness. I took a piss, which relieved me. “Oh yeah, that’s why I came in here. Time to get the hell out.”

Oh shit. There were robots all over the ground. Little contraptions with six, eight, twelve legs; just laying there, waiting for me to walk over them. Were they trying to trap me? Climb me? Were they benevolent? I tried to run one over with my bike tire. It didn’t budge, and I concluded they were either defunct, didn’t want me, or weren’t robots. Hell if I know.

Somehow, I made it out of the forest and back on to the bike trail. Before this moment, I felt as if I could talk to somebody and maintain a façade of sobriety, albeit a shoddy one. Now two men were walking towards me. Any thought of concealing my condition was far away at that point. I didn’t care if other people knew. Actually, I didn’t feel that other people were really “people” anymore. They were something, and I was something else entirely.

I didn’t feel that other people were really “people” anymore. They were something, and I was something else entirely.

 This disconnect with other people fostered what I would call insanity; the most frightening aspect of the trip.

What happened to the men, I do not know. What I did know was that it was time to start heading home.

Now, I did not take that decision lightly. “Are you running, or leaving? Are you scared, or merely ready to move on to the next portion of the trip?” The last thing I wanted was to make a decision out of fear.

I diplomacized with myself by biking up and down the same strip of the bike trail, finally deciding to leave only to turn around and decide to stay.

Around 9:30, I came to the conclusion that, because it was too dark to see, it was okay to go home, and that wasn’t a decision made from fear. Fuck if it mattered. It’s hard to think when the ground is morphing into the sky and trees are uprooting and jumping around like ballerinas.

Here’s where the insanity sets in.

I biked home via sidewalk. Cars were passing me every half minute. I knew people were driving them, but I didn’t understand what people were. I gawked at the passerbys, made insane faces, bobbing my head up and down, biking like a mad man.

Yoda must have been a psychonaut: “fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering.”

I felt as if I was a stranded space marine, crash-landed on an alien world. I feared people because I did not understand them. This fear led to angst, and this angst led to me losing what was left of my cool.

There was me, and there was the great other; everybody else.

As frightening as this sounds, I was quite happy while biking home. When on LSD, I was very suggestible. I found that whatever song I put on determined my mood and thoughts. I put on some light, poppy tunes. Katy Perry. Kesha. The Beatles.

Imagine this: You’re out for a walk. It’s night. From down the street, you see a young man swerving across the road, jumping up and down off his bike, screaming “YOUR LOVE, YOUR LOVE, YOUR LOVE, IS MY DRUG. YOUR LOVE, YOUR LOVE, YOUR LOVE.”

Good God: they probably thought they were the ones on acid. I was literally dancing on my bike, singing along at the top of my lungs.

I landed at another park. My addled mind was attracted to it because it was dark, secluded, and absent of the strange beings who give me odd stares.

It was wonderful. The beneficent, star-studded sky produced massive constellations for my enjoyment. Octagons, pentagons, and hexagons of every variety. Then my heart leapt into my throat as a car pulled into the empty parking lot. It parked with its bright lights pointing directly at me.

Oh fuck. This is it. I’m captured. I’ll be picked and prodded and probed by their fascist machines!

Fuck it. Let ‘em.

OH FUCK I’M GETTING ARRESTED.

Wow! Look at that star floating across the sky!

I’d become bipolar. Forget the membrane. I was insane to the nucleus, the fucking electrons and protons.

Then I jumped out of my skin – another car was pulling in. It parked right next to the other one.

They both shut off their lights and got out.

This is it. Shit’s about to hit the fan…

And imagine my relief when what emerges from the shadows are not bootstrapped fascists coming to pick my brain, but a young couple holding hands, calmly walking past me. I was ecstatic.

So ecstatic, in fact, that I could not contain my enjoyment. It started as a snicker. Soon it was a rolling guffaw of straight-up bars-in-the-window laughter. The couple, of course, turned and gawked at the lone lunatic having a heyday on the bench. It didn’t bother me, but I did decide it was time to leave.

I got up, collected my things, and said aloud with genuine lunatic enthusiasm, “Hey guys! It’s time to go home!”

Their stares followed me as I hopped on my bike, convulsing and chortling with laughter till they were out of sight and out of mind.

Finally – I was home. It was around 10:30, and to my shock and horror, my family was still awake. The glow of the television shone through the porch curtains.

I can’t go inside. I’m high as all bloody fuck. I’m insane, for Christ’s sake.

I did the only logical thing and laid down on the driveway. I watched the hexagon constellations move like bike gears in the sky. I listened to Pink Floyd’s Echoes. It was wonderful.

The rackety clanking of an opening garage door spooked me, and all of a sudden people were everywhere. A man walking three dogs. My neighbors pulling in their driveway. Oh fuck.

I hid behind my mother’s Suburban till the activity died down. As I got up from my fetal position, a new confidence arose in my thoughts. My ego had been resurrected to some extent, and I could now think in concepts of “the self.” However, this self was schizophrenic, manic, and paranoid. And until then, I feared that. But as I wiped the dirt from my clothes, my thoughts turned toward the political.

Sanity is only a frame of mind. And this society, this Ritalin dosing, Thorazine treating, Prozac prodding society will do anything to “treat” you toward the “right” frame of mind; their frame of mind; the productive, capitalist frame of mind.

Fuck that. I’m insane, and I like it.

I grabbed an inner tube from my garage, plopped it down in the middle of my driveway, and took a long gaze into the abyss.

The visuals began to die down around midnight. I peered around the corner, and the soft glow of the television had ceased. My family had gone to bed, so I walked inside.

Apparently they had been up late, and they were just getting to bed. I scurried to my room and shut the lights off. A deep hunger took hold, and I vied for the moment when I could safely plod my tripped-out semblance of self to the kitchen to gorge myself.

Eventually they went to bed, I got my food, and I came to a rest in the family room, where I turned on the television. I put on a DVR’ed re-run of Conan. None of the jokes made sense. Conan’s face seemed weird. The whole thing seemed strange. Andy Richter – I couldn’t understand half the shit he was saying. The actor who formerly played Joey on friends was a guest. I felt a deep emotional connection to him. He was in pain, I felt. Nervous. Lonely maybe.

Too much for me man. I paused it.

A variety of media passed my eyes over the next few hours – Youtube, television, ipod, internet – none of it made sense. My brain was broke. Things were like this till about 2:30, then things started making sense. Reality returned. My schizophrenic delusions lessened.

I went to bed and shortly fell asleep.

The next day I woke up and felt good, refreshed, like my brain had been recharged. I still feel a bit off. Different. Like I’ve experienced something incredible, like a near-death experience. Maybe this was a “near-life” experience.

All in all, it was a wonderful experience. I fear my long ramblings on the terror, mania, and paranoia I felt might be misinterpreted with negative light. This is not the case. Make no mistake – I enjoyed my insanity. It was fun, exhilarating; an adrenaline rush like none other.

It was fun, exhilarating; an adrenaline rush like none other.

The reason why I do go into long elaborations about the “crazier” aspects of my experience is because I feel most people would not enjoy the temporary insanity I felt. Some people might consider what I experienced a “bad trip.”  I, however, thoroughly enjoyed the experience, insanity and all. And, make no mistake, my journey was filled with incredible OEV’s, ego-loss, and mystic, enlightening sensations. A warning to anyone thinking about trying LSD – this is powerful stuff. I underestimated the possible effects, and sticky situations ensued. Often times I wanted another person there to tell me it was all okay, that I wasn’t the only one who was different. If I’d had a lifeline like that, I don’t think I would’ve gotten as alienated from other people as I did. I recommend a sitter, or at least doing it with a friend.

But, then again, much of me enjoyed my insanity. To each his or her own.

I look forward to dosing again in the near future.

Exp Year: 2012	ExpID: 97287

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 18

Published: Jul 10, 2019	Views: 2,003

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LSD (2) : Glowing Experiences (4), Music Discussion (22), Entities / Beings (37), First Times (2), Public Space (Museum, Park, etc) (53)


		 DOSE:
 T+ 0:00
		 7.5 mg
		 oral
		 DOM

		   T+ 2:30
		 1.5 hits
		 oral
		 LSD
		 (blotter / tab)

		   T+ 11:30
		 600 ug
		 oral
		 AL-LAD
		 (blotter / tab)

		   T+ 12:20
		 3 cups
		 oral
		 Tea

		   T+ 17:00

		 oral
		 Etizolam

           BODY WEIGHT:
	   200 lb

LSD and AL-LAD energized by DOM

Background about me: I have tried 100+ recreational substances, so have a lot of experience. However, I have generally shied away from high doses of lysergamides after one or two difficult experiences in my early 20s; this report details my highest combined dose to date, which I only took knowing that I would have significant psychedelic tolerance.

The timing involved was critical and enabled the dose of AL-LAD in a non-distressing way. To be crystal clear, I would never, ever take that dose without significant tolerance set-in.

To be crystal clear, I would never, ever take that dose without significant tolerance set-in.

 I wanted to report this as a technique that worked and gave me an utterly peak experience, although I cannot vouch for its general safety.

More general background: I supplement magnesium heavily on a daily basis, which seems to help recreational drug experiences go smoother. I also have narcolepsy, so the magnesium alleviates some of the side effects from my symptoms. I also take 2FMA/adderall/armodafinil/caffeine on a daily basis to help with my wakefulness at work, so have some stimulant/amphetamine tolerance. I take the lowest doses possible to get through the day.

Location, mindset: this was at a music festival (really just a large party of friends, not open to the general public) on the West Coast, in the forest foothills along a snowmelt river. I was somewhat nervous about this combination without significant harm reduction/risk reduction infrastructure in place (eg only a medical tent, no specific psychedelic cool-down areas or other skilled Zendo-type practitioners), but knew that I would be among friends and have all my years of experience to bring to bear. Overall, nervous but excited. I am a very stable and low-emotional-expressivity person with a good job and fulfilled life. My health/fitness is excellent and my relationships very healthy now and generally.

Zero hour starts at noon thirty:

-0:30- I just finished my brunch meal of eggs, quinoa, salad, potatoes. I think it’s important to be well fed.

0:00 - I take 7.5mg DOM and give 5mg to several of my friends. Bitter as expected. At this point, we are setting up a blanket by the beach stage to spend the day listening to mostly-bass music and dipping in the snowmelt river (spending more time on floaties above the river due to the frigid water). The sun is blazing, the weather is 86F, and its gorgeous.

0:30 - Two of my friends, A and B, tell me that, oddly, the DOM has hit them quite fast and they feel solidly tripping in their bodies and muscles. No real visuals yet, but the body high is quite strong. One other friend, C, says she is coming up as well and her body feels confused…not bad, but definitely confused. I can just feel the edge of the DOM energy, which has felt like it is spreading from my throat and chest into my large muscle bodies. At this point, knowing DOM’s effect on muscles, I give all of us 7-9 grams of L-citrulline D,L malate. This is s supplement that helps with peripheral blood pressure and thus eases symptoms of vasoconstriction during chemicals like DOM and stimulant binges. Within minutes, two of my friends are saying their muscles feel more relaxed, although it may just be placebo.

1:30 - The two friends who came up quickly are now settling in to their experience and enjoying the energy out on a barge on the water. I am feeling the energy rise, and like previous experiences with DOM, it feels extremely simple, clear-headed, calm…just energy in my body with a fresh headspace. C says she is having fun but also confused like she feels on LSD and psilocin, so is preemptively opting out of phase 2 coming up, which I of course encourage. Always better to err on the side of caution rather than overshooting…

2:00 - I am in the water with my friends. We’re cuddling, massaging, doing slip’n’slides, basking in the sun, and building hippie pyramids of downwards dog. The cold water bothers me less than expected.

2:30 - I am ready for phase 2. A and B are gone, C is having a fine enough time, so I take 1.5 nominal ~100µg tabs of LSD (amount verified as 104µg by Energy Control on a different tab from the same sheet) and give a similar 1.5 tabs to another friend of mine D who didn’t take the DOM initially. I chose this timeframe because I wanted to experience the full LSD dose and anecdata suggests that 2-3 hours post-DOM tolerance will NOT have set in, but 4-5+ hours tolerance begins to set in and the LSD will feel quite weak.

3:00 - I am coming up faster than usual on the LSD. This is a good sign. I feel dizzy, like the lights are too bright. Fewer wavy twisty visuals than I am used to, but the cast of sunlight and feel in my body tell me that this is a lot of lysergamide. I still feel quite clear-headed, no thought loops or other odd mental paths. I have been dancing, drinking water, having a few sips of beer, and generally basking in the sun. I feel somewhat parched and burned, so I’ve been over applying sunscreen…because why not? My lips feel quite dry but I’m confident I’ve been drinking as I’ve needed to pee twice. Each time I’ve peed, my body ends up shivering with pleasure. These are all good things.

3:20 - at this point the physical euphoria is incredible. I feel like my full skin has become a sexual organ and rubbing it against other people basking in the sun is too pleasurable to describe in words. Luckily, my friend D who took the LSD but not the DOM is extremely affectionate as well, and we spend the next literal 3.5 hours rolling around on the ground on a blanket together. Her constant touches and legs rubbing against mine provide one of the top three experiences of physical euphoria I’ve experience to date. Occasionally we roll down the hill somewhat - the blanket isn’t even soft, and I only stop to brush all the dirt and sand off D’s legs.

7:00 - Dinnertime! Dinner is served to everyone…I’m not excited about it, but at least it smells good. We eat a large meal, and I am thankful for the food, although my stomach experiences some sharp pains. After eating, we head back to put on warmer costume clothes for the evening. I have laid out a bag and clothing to make this as easy as possible for myself, but the DOM I think has really helped the clarity I’m usually lacking with LSD. The energy is still extraordinary.

7:30 - I find I’m grateful to be back in my tent…I thought I wasn’t very high, but as soon as I relax on my mattress, the visuals take over the internal tent walls, highlighting patches of light and dark with breathing/morphing effects. I don’t feel particularly fucked up or unlucid…again I think the DOM is really giving me a clear mind.

8:30 - We get together with a large group of friends camped nearby and back back into the madness. Still feeling just awesome about everything. There are some decent DJs playing but we decide to explore the art before the late-night music really starts and likely captures our attention.

11:30 - After some wandering and chatting with friends, enjoying the body energy and music, I am starting to feel more sober and the visuals are almost down to zero. Knowing the DOM has plenty of time left, and being surprised at how simple and delightful this experience has been so far, I make a rash decision that was not originally intended. I pull out 6 tabs of nominal 100µg AL-LAD and put them in my mouth. It feels like a momentous decision - something that can go very wrong or very right. I’m concerned, but I also understand that at this point I have a pretty enormous psychedelic tolerance from the DOM and the LSD in particular. Having never done anything like this before, I don’t know if this will do nothing, give me a nice supplemental AL-LAD experience, or blast me into a confused and unpleasant state (which I know is typical of AL-LAD doses above 300µg). Oh well, here we go!

12:20 - I am lacking some food, sustenance, warm…luckily C has prepared several gallons of strong chai to serve partygoers. The chai feels like it fills every need I could ever have - so delicious. I have several cups. Just as I’m finishing my third cup, the AL-LAD comes to life in me! It’s incredible - my vision is completely filled with rainbows, such light and color! I am somewhat dizzy as a result of likely rocketing upwards on the AL-LAD as well as the caffeine from the chai.

12:30 - Many friends are coming by to get chai, as well as stop and chat. Conversation feels somewhat disabled as the world around me quakes with rainbows. Surprisingly the AL-LAD brings very little headspace with it, very little increase to any sort of confusion or other mental hallmarks of a strong hallucinogen experience. Most of my inability to interact with the world comes as a result of marveling at everything around me.

Most of my inability to interact with the world comes as a result of marveling at everything around me.

 The sky is just a gaping rainbow fractal maw…I can hardly tear my eyes away from it.

13:00-16:00 - I request to be horizontal, and my friends join me on cushions to look up at the sky. We play with pillows, rub each other, whisper sweet nothings and serious everything. After an hour on the ground, we explore some music, and then wander out to the outer reaches of the party to check out some of the cute art and the like. The visuals slowly fade during this period. By 16:00 I am extremely hungry, devour some snacks from my bag which are woefully absent (I don’t normally ever eat on drugs at all), luckily one of my traveling companions has a bag of fried mochi rice snacks, which I devour.

17:00  - The sky is beginning to get light. While I feel no compulsion to sleep, we decide it’s time, and C has mentioned that it has mostly worn off of her, so we have a couple milligrams of etizolam, brush our teeth, and head to our bed.

Sleep comes easily, and I sleep soundly for 6 hours, waking up the next morning in a happy state with an exhausted brain.

Overally, this was one of my peak experiences, and I felt that I should share it with a greater audience. The AL-LAD was a gamble that definitely paid off, and overall this was very well-architected for a maximum of incredible psychedelic energy. I will repeat this for certain, likely with a slightly higher dose of LSD.

Exp Year: 2019	ExpID: 113388

Gender: Male

Age at time of experience: 31

Published: Jul 24, 2019	Views: 2,790

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DOM (20), LSD (2), AL-LAD (603) : Glowing Experiences (4), Combinations (3), Large Group (10+) (19)