Age:18
Weight-135 lbs
Dose-~25 mg
Set/Setting-Center
city Philadelphia, alone, huge snowstorm, 2 in the morning. No one around but
crews working to clear the snow. Feeling a bit tired but otherwise looking
forward to what this may bring. I had prepared a solution of 4-AcO-DMT and
dosed volumetrically from that. I pour my dose into a bottle and set off.
T0:00-I get off a
bus that slowly and haphazardly travels through the snowy streets. There was a
man on the bus, his face was covered in blood and he was throwing up on the
floor. I walk towards the art museum from city hall taking swigs of my bottle
as I go. I added flavoring so it isn’t as cripplingly and nauseatingly bitter
this time. I plug in headphones and begin the trudge towards the art museum.
The streets are empty save for the occasional plow or police car working to
keep the city from being entirely disabled the next day. I watch my solitary
footprints leave a path behind me as I continue. By the time I near the museum,
I can feel the come up. I can feel the energy and the warmth rising in me,
relieving me of the burden of a body that must suffer in this cold. The snow
rages around me, coating me, covering me, but I am still warm. I stop to tie my
boot and become entranced in the drifting rainbow patterns shimmering on the
fresh snow, unable to stand due to a simultaneous weightlessness yet great
weight of my body.
T0:30-I ascend
the steps, vision quaking and warping around me, bubbles of subtle color
distorting the edges of my vision. At least I reach the top of the stairs, take
a deep breath, and turn around to face the city. The great skyscrapers of Philadelphia
cast a ghostly glow on the atmosphere, their muted lights dragged around by the
sparking snow swirling around them, shafts of light shooting up into the sky. Everything
seems to bend and move inwards towards the skyline, as if it is a great
gravitational force. I smoke some victory weed, the serpentine wisps of smoke
swirling away, delicately entwined with the falling snow. The muffled sounds of
the world around me reverberate and blend together, each one colliding and spiraling
off into infinity, birthing some new hybrid noise. I wander the plaza of the
museum, marveling at the architecture and the beauty of its form, so carefully
crafted. I marvel at the statue outside the main entrance, the warped and
distorted human form, the beautiful balance and aesthetics. I begin my descent
of the stairs and look back, noticing I’ve left swirling undulating wandering
and erratic footprints.
T0:50-Thoughts
begin to race through my head as I descend the stairs, not in any recognizable
language but rather the essence of my reflections of the environment translated
into some sort of symbolic phonetics. The snow masks the individual steps,
making this a harrowing journey. Each step feels like a separate journey, a new
eternity that I have to cross. Thoughts race through my head of what could go
wrong as I descend-I could fall and injure myself, I could get trapped in a
horrific loop, I could get arrested (for whatever reason), I imagine myself in
the back of a cop car, extremely confused, my thoughts looping through emotions
of terror and utter devastation. I would later find out that my parents had
been stalking my social media without my knowledge and I had been foolish
enough to brag about this experience online. They later told me they had
considered coming out to get me, something that would have likely been
traumatic. Thankfully I make it safely to the bottom of the steps and begin my
journey back towards center city. As this unfolds I am stricken by an intense
déjà vu, as vivid memories of my dreams begin to dance in my head. It becomes
hard to distinguish between real memories and the subconscious memories of my
dreams. While walking down the boulevard, I become more entranced by what I
identify as the real ones. Every memory I can imagine, blossoming off into
another by slight relevance, like clicking through Wikipedia articles, each one
vividly playing out before me within this short span of time. I did not
necessarily relive them in a sensory way-though images of them would flash in
the darkness behind the swirling snow and in my peripheral vision-rather I
vividly experienced the emotions and mindset of each memory, as if I was there
experiencing the way these things all made me feel. Beautiful, tear jerking
nostalgia. I am reminded of how much work I have put into this life, amassing
all these experiences. All the while the ground is pulsing and rippling and
twitching with lines and ghost images of every conceivable color, depth
perception is completely destroyed as double images begin to overcome my vision
and spaces begin to shrink and expand in unpredictable and inconceivable ways.
The snow obscures the border between road and sidewalk, along with the complex
textures overlaying every surface, making navigation and walking very
difficult. This comes along with fear of being hit by one of the many plows
busily patrolling the streets and pushing the snow aside.
T1:30-I arrive at
a park and realize that I am pretty exhausted. I wipe snow off a bench and sit
down. Then I crumble. My body lies completely still as the snow swirls around
me, consuming all of my senses. I am just an object in this world, as much a
part of the earth as the snow and this bench and the ground and the icy air
around me. I am a glacier, a statue, the snow coats me as I ponder that I am
made of the same tiny things as everything around me, that these tiny bits
could unbond and I could disperse throughout the universe. The world crumbles
around me as I imagine myself in different places. Am I really on this bench
right now? Am I dreaming? Am I in my room? What is “location”, could I really
be anywhere I wanted to? I am glued to this bench, snow piling on me. I then
realize that I should move, lest I become frozen in place forever.
T1:40-I am city
hall, it is huge and glorious, but it means nothing to the torrent of snow. I
then realize how messed up my sense of scale is. Various buildings seem to be
as large as me, I feel larger than some, others seem to be impossibly huge and
grandiose. I feel like I am a walking building-I am the city, the city is me,
and we are both being crushed under the onslaught of winter’s wrath. I decide
two things- one is that I really need to pee, two is that I want to go see Chinatown
and its perpetual display of vibrant lights. I walk in that general direction.
There are more road crews around city hall working tirelessly to keep the
streets clear. I stop and rest in a tunnel and realize a predicament-how the
hell am I getting home? Is the bus still running even? Oops, major mistake. I
watch a person across the street sheltering in the tunnel and realize how
lonely and desolate this place is. I wander out to street and realize I’m going
in circles. This happens so often when I trip alone in the city, I get very
hopelessly lost. Space means nothing and familiar landmarks are unrecognizable
as everything gets drowned out in distortions and colors. I eventually find
myself in Chinatown after much wandering and tripping and falling. I am
becoming intolerably cold as my layers and bundles begin to falter to the
constant wind and snow. Chinatown is glowing and beautiful, each building
bathed in an aura of light as it catches the drifting crystals of ice. The
buildings are intricate and beautiful, with so much detail and filth packed
into every corner of my vision, all of it being buried and simplified under the
blankets of snow. Teenagers are enjoying the night and taking pictures and
laughing and joking. I feel pretty exhausted by now. Every part of me has
layers of snow on it, my hair has icicles hanging from it and is frozen into
one solid mass, my eyebrows and face coated and frozen with little bits of ice.
I cannot walk anymore, merely shuffling along. I must look pretty destitute.
T2:30-After my
aimless wandering, I decide to focus my efforts on getting home. I feel so
worn, so tired… I put in headphones and listen to some music. Suddenly I am
energized. My face turns into an indelible smile as I suddenly feel like I can
do this. The music pulses through my being, warms my veins. I feel like I could
run home through the snow, the abruptness and magnitude of this change is incredible.
Everything is still breathing and covered in a nice smooth coating of pure,
unfettered winter. After walking in circles around city hall trying to get my
bearings I find a northbound street that will bring me home. I trudge up the
unshoveled walk, the snow now up past my ankles. Its only falling harder now,
leaving a thicker and more muffling blanket on every surface. Right before me,
an avalanche slides off the roof of a church, a beautiful shimmering and
sparking and glittering cascade, swirling to the ground and catching in the
wind, the stray snowflakes being catapulted skyward and carried far away. I run
into a man trying to get into the subway station. I ask if it’s running, he
says it doesn’t seem like it. I continue on my way, trudging north. The man
runs and catches up with me saying we could split the bill on a cab north, as
he is headed there too. Interaction is hard and awkward, my own voice resounds
in my skull and reverberates, consuming my entire soundspace. I agree, and we
continue walking until we catch sight of a cab. We hail it and get in. The ride
is bumpy and slippery and a lot of fun. The driver haphazardly weaves around
snow drifts, paying no heed to lanes or anything. After all, they are
completely obscured and there are no other cars on the road. I get off back at
my university, and a friend invites me over to warm up and spend the night.
Here, the winds are extreme. I can feel them blow me around, making it
difficult to walk. They sculpt the snow into all sorts of patterns, the snow
even forming dunes in one area. The dunes pulse with concentric circles.
T3:30-After
settling down in a nice warm house and smoking several bowls I feel the
afterglow. Images still dance on blank surfaces, flashing colorful patterns and
hexagons. Things still breathe and pulsate color. I am so warm and so comfortable
and so euphoric. Sleeping over with my friend and cuddling with her in her warm
house as the storm rages outside in the dark smoky room is absolute bliss. We
listen to music and talk late into the night as the trip withers away and gives
way to a comfortable fatigue. Faint patterns dance on the ceiling, politely
staring down at me throughout the rest of the night. I would say the afterglow
effects continued for about 2 more hours before I can sleep. The next day I am
extremely exhausted but practically glowing inside.
x
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