O-PCPr

Age: 29

Weight: 140 lbs

Dosage: 90 mg intransal

Setting: At home. Very late at night. Just watched “The Truman Show” with my spouse. 

 

[Please note: I have developed a dissociative tolerance and I also prefer strong experiences. This is a massive dose for a normal person. For someone without a tolerance I would suggest starting at 20 mg for this compound. For someone without a tolerance an experience of similar intensity to mine would likely be found at the 50-60 mg range]

Per usual, the preface is a lot of chem and pharmacology jargon. Skip it if that is not of interest. An quick summary of the compound is at the end.

 

Preface:

O-PCPr was first detected when it was being sold as O-PCE at the end of 2024. Yet another egregious mislabeling error with dissociatives, as with the whole FXE fiasco. I am not sure if this is a failure on the part of QA or the development team in the labs producing these drugs. Nevertheless, a number of test samples that have been correctly labeled as O-PCPr have now been sent out from that same lab, indicating that they plan on offering it for wider sale soon, though this remains to be seen. Unlike my series of PCiPr analogues that have just been curiosity driven passion projects from small researchers, this one seems like it may actually have some market force behind it!

Identity of this compound was confirmed via ASAP-MS and 1H/13C NMR, which can be provided upon request.

O-PCPr follows a pretty logical path for the design of a novel arylcyclohexylamine. It is simple 2’-oxo-PCPr, no substitution on the phenyl ring. It is the same basic concept as DCK (which one could call O-PCM), or O-PCE.

With so many close relatives, what kind of effects can one predict from this drug before consuming it? This drug does exist in literature, it was actually among a series of compounds synthesized and analyzed for receptor affinity by my colleague Dr. Anush Abelian for her dissertation. The NMDA Ki value to related compounds in the paper like DCK, O-PCE, and MXPr, tells us is that this compound is probably less potent than its known relatives. Ki values often correlate to potency but don’t always cleanly correspond. I felt fairly comfortable starting with a higher dose when titrating this compound. And lo and behold, by my findings, if I took my tolerance out of the equation, I would say 50 mg of this would be equivalent to 40 mg of DCK or 25 mg O-PCE.

This opens up some interesting horizons with structure activity relations too. There aren’t too many PCPr based compounds floating around out there. The only comparisons I have are MXPr and 3,4-MD-PCPr. Both of which are quite unique. It is still hard to get a read on the general “vibe” of the propylamine series. What can be seen now is the pattern for 2’-Oxo-substituted arylcyclohexylamines. A methyl group has moderate affinity, activity spikes with an ethyl, and then falls back down again for a propyl, and presumably falls further with longer carbon chains (As an aside there is evidence that a sec-butyl amine is actually quite active and potent! But I maintain the prediction that an aliphatic (straight chain) butylamine would see a steady drop in affinity from the aliphatic propyl). The isopropyl configuration additionally seems to bind better than the long aliphatic propyl. This pattern is also seen in the 3-phenyl substituted analogues (in this case, MXM, MXE, MXPr, and MXiPr)- in which MXE is the most potent, MXM has a similar potency to MXPr, and MXiPr falls somewhere in between. (As an odd aside, per Abelian’s dissertation, the affinities of MXPr and MXiPr are actually higher than MXE! This is a case of affinity not fully correlating to in-vivo potency). This pattern maps on to the simple phenyl substituted ACH’s to some degree, and this is seen in Jason Wallach’s dissertation, though in this case, the methyl has a significantly lower affinity than the propyl. No idea how that would map onto in-vivo potency though, as we can see with the MX- style compounds, there is a clear divergence in that correlation sometimes.

Anyways, I digress, none of these numbers tell us what this drug is actually like! O-PCPr is short acting, heavy, smooth, insightful, suggestible, and ever so slightly stimulating beneath the heaviness. The headspace is fairly lucid throughout. Motor skills are pretty compromised, visuals are dark and neutral and indistinct. There are rushes of euphoria throughout. I think it is a fun compound that lends itself to casual use. If I want to make comparisons, it is like a more stimulating DCK. It bears little similarity to O-PCE or MXPr for that matter, it is a manageable headspace, there is no stultifying confusion. Even at moderate doses I was able to pull myself out of it and focus and function (which I did, during a devastating neighborhood crisis on one occasion). But it was nice to just sink in and get couchlocked by it. It is cozy and comfortable and smooth.

I will note that this compound seemed to slightly aggravate bladder and urinary symptoms. I am not sure if this is a personal sensitivity but I would suggest users to be vigilant of such effects and report them if experienced!

 

T0:00- Dose administered intranasally. Mild sting. Odor reminiscent of latex housepaint. Listening to Dub and relaxing on the couch.

 

T0:05- Spouse is telling me about intertidal spiders. I never knew those existed! I'm reading about marine insects now, the sea striders, Halobates. There is a slight dizziness but there is already an inquisitive and focused headspace that drives me to read about things, similar to what I experience from psychedelics. Some numbness and softness and clumsiness in my extremities already.

 

 

T0:08- It is hitting so fast. I am very dizzy. The room is spinning. My thoughts are still focused but it feels like they're starting to trip up on each other a little now and move more slowly. There is a distinct euphoric rush. It is hitting fast. I feel like I am sitting on an inflating balloon. Tracers begin to present visually.

 

T0:15- My head feels heavy, like there is a big metal cube inside of it. I am so dizzy, it feels dizzying to have my airy body support such weight. The room suddenly feels so drafty. There is a phantom sensation of wind all across my skin. I feel like I should be cold but I’m not. It feels like my entire body is wobbling and rippling in slow motion. It’s all so slow. My limbs are starting to feel so heavy and droopy like well-packed clay. There are open eyed visuals presenting as a sort of static or rainbow visual snow. There are no distinct patterns other than neat arrays of dots in a grid.

 

T0:30- I smoke a little bit of cannabis. I have just enough motor control for that. I feel so dense, everything is hitting so fast. Sounds are beginning to flange and reverberate. It feels like my entire visual field is shaking and flashing. I feel so heavy but my limbs also feel inflated by helium, it is as if all parts of me are floating up except for a dense heavy core anchoring the great balloon that is my consciousness and its perceptions of my body. I feel like a ball of lead on a vast plane of foil, sinking down and pulling the swirling ribbons of physicality around it as they dance in the persistent winds. I am a rock in the storm. There is such a gleeful rush to this feeling. My personal form is drooping and taking the form of the couch beneath it. I am sinking and sinking. I also need to pee. I am easily able to will myself up and walk upstairs, quite unsteadily.

 

T0:40- I am pretty dissed but I am able to talk to my spouse coherently. We chat about aquatic spiders and the behaviors of different spiders around water, like how fishing spiders will use the surface of water like an orb weaver would use its web- a vast vibrational field that can sense disturbances so they can be pursued. I too feel like the dainty hairy feet of the great Dolomedes spiders on the rippling surface of something immensely deep and dark. A hot air balloon drifting over a vast sinkhole. But instead of airy updrafts, the breeze pulls me in, deeper into its mouth, deeper into the hole. The depths beckon; I plug in headphones, turn off the lights, and play The Books’ final album “The Way Out”, a beautiful sound collage with excerpts from hypnosis and autogenic instructional tapes. I don’t normally opt for music with human voices so this proves to be an interesting experience.

I lie down and my body collapses into a puddle of quicksilver, dense and conforming to the surfaces it lies upon. Dim forms begin to materialize and loom over me, it feels like an entire shadowed world is laid out before me, an obscure geography begins to manifest in the sinuous violet deep rolling plains and unctuous pools and marshes before me, but as my balloon drifts over this nocturne fen-scape it seems the landscape comes up to greet me, geography folding in to encapsulate me, with the opaque black mirror still tannin bogs to my back, the tickling of the marshgrasses on my front and above me a hazy pastel twilight sky with no sun. This is a hole where my form feels relatively still in the mist, graced by the swirling dissociative winds, ready to be greeted upon by the synesthetic reactions to other stimuli. And so the multisensory and synesthetic experience continues onwards throughout the twists and turns of “The Way Out”, and in here I begin to feel my reaction-cognition suddenly grow more sensitive and unprotected as if bared away by the steady breeze: I keep finding unnerving little dysphonic notes in the music that I may not have sensed before; I can feel my thoughts spiraling fractally outwards in response to perceived negative stimulus hits from certain sounds. It all feels too exposed, it all feels too vulnerable. I feel like my brainstuff is on display, I feel at the mercy of a chemical that has laid my mechanisms bare. Thankfully this chemical is benign. All it will do with my neurons is slather them in buzzing syrup and let then all soak together. They will relax in their salon and feel sensitive and suggestible and safe.

There is still little sense of motion beyond slow and consistent following along tracks lacking something in dynamics of motion. As I ever so slowly drift, images and forms do still coalesce around my consciousness, fold in from the environment to make themselves apparent to me. This is a very solipsistic and lonely hole. With some compounds, the hole makes me feel like I am a visitor to a realm of titans. This hole makes me feel as though I am slowly drifiting through ancient and forgotten ruins, wind bellowing through their empty halls like a de Chirico painting, places that have been empty since before the temple of human cognition had been crafted.

The structure of this twilight hole is expansive, mountainous, stoic and still, even as forms matter-of-factly and placidly replicate and recur upon themselves like hopper crystals. There was always a sense of things coming together, building heavier, ever heavier. My perceptions of physical self also did not feature much distortion or alteration, I was always a still body in the gentlest breeze, at times cocooned, entombed or locked into armor or sarcophagi or mysterious pods, most motion was me simply being still and being manipulated by other perceived physical forces. Other dissociatives holes I could feel like my physical self was being twisted, bent, folded, expanded and contracted in impossible ways, but beyond a persistent floppy sinking feeling, this was not the case here. The nature of the hole was neutral, and I suspect highly sensitive to set and setting.

 

T1: 15 – I transition out of the hole as my physical body becomes more difficult to ignore. It does not take much effort to sit back upright and operate a computer again. I still feel very heavy, I still feel very dazed. Every function of my body and mind feels like I am in slow motion. I often just space out for a few seconds at a time, not really thinking about anything, just perceiving the state I am in. The room is dark. There are visuals drifting down the surfaces and indistinct dark spaces all around me, cascades of regular arrays of dots, shifting and morphing a little. Everything is gently flashing. As the shock of being in a hole state wears off and my normal cognition begins to quickly reassemble and filter back in, I just go back to reading about things on my laptop. I read about the phenomenon of hypnosis. I feel like I am made of gummy. My limbs feel heavy and buzzing and moving them is labored. But I am content to move as minimally as possible.

 

T1:30- Everything feels so slow. I am surprised to realize only an hour and a half has passed. The time dilation, particularly in the hole space, is remarkable. The intensity has leveled off at this point, I am sitting there in a focused daze like a monsoonal downpour of doom metal riffs is crashing down on me. I am not stupefied, incapacitated, or blankly staring off into space, but the presence of the drug is still overwhelmingly undeniable.

 

T2:00- I still feel the same as before. The comedown seems steady and gradual. There’s no mania, but still a focused drive to read things and engage in tasks. There is still a bit of slowness in my thoughts and reactions, like each neural impulse has to fight through slush to reach the next synapse, but the pieces to be a functional mind are all still there. It is a focus but it is a soft focus, still blurred, still not at full capacity. MXPr in its comedown left me confused and frozen in place, unable to really think or do anything and leaving me no desire to engage with anything. This is quite different from that. It’s a perfect state to competently engage with a mostly mindless videogame, in this case, I dust off my N64 cartridge of Pokemon snap and try to max out my scores. I become engrossed with finding an online leaderboard for this ancient game and find a quiet joy in seeing all these people from around the world still dedicating themselves to being the very best they can be for the sake a game hardly anyone plays anymore for only the most niche recognition. I find my mind, in its exposed softness, has taken itself to that sort of saccharine sentimentality, there are a lot of little beautiful things in the dark and quiet places in the world late at night, on pages of website with hardly any traffic, or perhaps a drug is just making me feel something profound about the dick-measuring contest of hyper-competitive gaming for dubious achievements that will forever be shrouded in total obscurity. But perhaps I am doing the same with drugs.

 

T3:00- I definitely feel further down. Cognitively I am close to being back to baseline, though I still feel suggestible and malleable- things like immediately believing obvious misinformation before scrutinizing it, fixation on certain thoughts or beliefs, I feel as though the right person could convince me to believe or do anything right now if they communicated it in the right way. Most of the remaining sensations are in my body- now just as numbness and heaviness. There is perhaps a bit of lingering stimulation in my mind, not true “stimulation” as in anything I can overtly feel, just that I would probably have a hard time falling asleep if I were to lay down right now.

 

T4:00- Almost entirely down. Just the last lingering vestiges of that aforementioned numbness and heaviness in my body.

 

T5:00- Fully back to baseline. Go to sleep (With my prescribed 50 mg of Trazodone).

Conclusion: I think this drug is excellent as a heavier dissociative for casual use- I think many users will even find it preferable to ketamine- not just because of its higher potency, but because of the slightly more engaging and lucid headspace too, at points quite euphoric and focused and sentimental without becoming too confusing or disorienting. The higher potency of course does mean that it may lend itself less to casual use as one can not eye out doses like they do with ketamine, but I find this one to be pretty forgiving at high doses, owing to its that somewhay lucid headspace. The heaviness is mostly in the body and even at a very large dose it wasn’t particularly disorienting, though it could be physically incapacitating. It has a very rapid onset with sudden upwellings of euphoria, a short peak duration and a longer, pleasant, functional comedown that is overall quite agreeable. The hole space is dim and indistinct but still interesting and quite malleable to whatever sensory inputs one lends themselves to. I believe holing on this drug with the appropriate music could provide for some phenomenal experiences, but on the flipside, it may prove very sensitive to set and setting and in the wrong place at the wrong time could be an unpleasant experience. It doesn’t have quite the same level of esoteric thought and deep-diving insight as DCK might have- in fact if I had to describe it based on comparison I would say the most accurate description is a slightly more stimulating DCK with a slightly shallower and more casual headspace- a headspace that I find projects itself outwardly onto the user’s inputs and surroundings as opposed to the inwardly gazing world of DCK. A great way to finish off a dark night. As I stated in the intro, I did notice some urinary effects in the time after taking it, though I don’t know whether this is just due to my own sensitivities or could have even just been coincidence with timing. I urge other experimenters to be vigilant for such effects and report if they notice similar. Overall though, I think this is an excellent, easy, euphoric, malleable, and forgiving compound that will certainly find its fans.

PCiPr ++ 3-F-PCiPr + Nitrous Oxide + Hydromorphone

Here is just a brief and dirty reportback on an experience I had fairly recently on a cocktail of novel dissociatives and a single 8 mg hydromorphone pill in addition to generous amounts of cannabis. This is not as detailed or useful as any of my normal reports, but it was such a jarring experience (that happened right around Halloween time too) that it felt worth writing. Figured I could share a scary story about drugs that actually happened.

It is noteworthy that 2 of these compounds are completely novel dissociatives that have not been reported yet. I am working on reports on each of them singularly, I hope to have them out sometime in the coming weeks. If i had to summarize them, I would say 3-F-PCiPr doses around 30-70 mg, has a fairly short duration, and is soft, smooth, at times tranquil and other times quite uncomfortable and disorienting. PCiPr doses around 10-30 mg, has a very long duration, and is subtle at first, then very intense and all consuming, stimulating and manic and very functional but also quite heavy. Like a more lucid 3-HO-PCP. [Reports for PCiPr and 3-F-PCiPr are now complete!] I had encountered no indication that either of these compounds had any CNS depressant activity; both elevated heart rate and didn't cause any perceivably respiratory depression (measured with a pulse oximeter), Appreciable respiraratory depression hasn't really been observed in in the non-2'-oxo substituted arylcycholexylamines (though some can be weak partial agonists of the mu-opioid receptor). Nevertheless, I determined for myself that I was comfortable with the risk, I would never recommend to anyone else that they combine novel drugs with opioids.

There are no timestamps here because I wasn't really taking notes as I had not planned on reporting on this. I had taken 20 mg of PCiPr intranasally earlier in the night, followed by 50 mg 3-F-PCiPr intranasally several hours later. I was just riding the high of a very nice first date I had had with somebody where I had cooked them dinner and hung out at my house. A short time after that, I crushed up a single 8 mg Hydromorphone pill and snorted it. I was smoking cannabis and hitting a nitrous tank throughout the rest of the evening, which was mostly spent chatting with friends and playing Dynasty Warriors 3 on the PS2. I felt floaty and warm, I was dizzy and lightheaded and spacey like I was being baked in warm static. Everything was faded and muffled in the most pleasant intoxicating way, like the empty spaces of my skull were stuffed with plush filling. There was an underlying mania and a stupefying dissociation. A warm opioid nod left me drowsy and slack jawed, gently waving back and forth in the glow of my CRT TV. I felt like seaweed being tossed about in gentle waves in a shallow sandy tropical sea, waves that swelled and rolled through my body as a warm, itchy euphoria. Everything was pleasantly bleak, everything was heavy in the silent late night twilight.

I eventually topped off with 10 more mg of PCiPr and 20 more mg of 3F-PCiPr. I was done playing video games for now, I was absentmindedly sitting in the dark browsing the internet. Every thought was a struggle, every action felt impaired and restrained in every way. I was moving and thinking in slow motion, every little task taking twice as long as it should have. The obliterating stupor of opioid bliss.

I was getting ready to go to bed (This was about now 4 hours since I had taken the initial dose of 3-F-PCiPr). I decided to smoke more. I am not sure why I made this decision- sometimes I will smoke a bit before bed to unwind, but with dissociatives still in my system, why would i think this would do anything but stir the dust again and bring them to the forefront, not conducive to sleep at all? And I didn't just smoke a little, I smoked a lot. Incidentally, this is exactly what happened. My heart was pounding, I was soon in the throes of a dissociative panic. Everything came rushing to the forefront, it was distressing and overwhelming. The world began to unravel around me. All I could hear was my heart pounding in my head. I became profoundly confused- how did I get here? Where was I? Where was my body? Why did I feel this way? Who was I? Darkness had consumed everything, I could not perceive anything around me anymore. My surroundings had fallen away to an abyss. It was as if I was suddenly an isolated consciousness caught immediately in the present, no point of reference for what came before, how i felt before, no sense of how I ought to feel in the future, just suddenly being deposited into a disorienting and confusing existence, borne from intense unfamiliar and bizarre sensations, borne from an unknowable void where sensations existed no longer. I was a very small mind, very suddenly all alone in a very large and imposing place.

And in this vulnerable, lost, confused place- I was prey. Something stalked the reaches of this dissociative abyss, something indescribable, without physical or sensory form, only perceptible as concentrated malicious intent. I could not feel my body but I could sense by blood run cold in its shadow. I was no longer protected by my grounding in our reality, I was at the mercy of something that showed me that I was past where my mind could feel intact. It pulled me away from our world as bits and pieces of myself began to come back- I was now cognizant of what I was, and what was being lost as my previous existence had began to decay into illusion-it was this sense that I had broken out, that i had hacked my way out of our reality into this alternate one, where I was lost and afraid and vulnerable. That the existence I had known was an illusion to insulate me from the horrors of this world where entities preyed on stray consciousnesses and spirited them away to parts unknown. And so it was that my entire life, that every entire life, all life times, all humanity, was withered away to nothing, inconsequential and forgettable in the scope of this new void, greater than anything I could perceive, both endless and final, all-consuming, dominant, and utterly inescapable. Where darkness ate at the borders of my perception and shadows stalked through whatever could be perceived as apart of the inky void. It was cold, impersonal, and unfeeling as anything could be- even the emptiest plane and bleakest space on our world is still a physical realm, I still have the company of the sky and the earth- here is nothing, the bitter loneliness of knowing that not only is nothing here, nothing could possibly be here, nothing has ever been here, nothing will ever be here, nothing but my tormentor who has placed me here, who is so vast and powerful that I am borne the terrible loneliness of its indifference, that I am so powerless to be imperceptible to it. How can I beg for mercy from something that only perceived me for an instant to lock me in its limbo, to whom I am a speck of dust lost among a million specks of dust in a million empty spaces? It was the dread of being abandoned, forgotten, truly deeply dissociated from everything I had ever known and will know, and from all that had ever known and will know me. It was the greatest sense that escape was impossible that I have ever known.

All of my life, all of my memories, everything I was, everything I had known, was fading away into a distant memory. My fate was to be here, still, cold, perceiving only dimness for an eternity that had already begun to pass. The light of existence and experience was being weighed against an ever-extending final ultimate void that only grew to dwarf it, averaging out to an increasingly grey and stagnant life. This was it, this was all it would ever be.

Then snap, it was over. It was as though this tormentor had noticed me, had decided I was to be freed. All of a sudden, I just came to in my room, like nothing had happened at all. A moment of mercy. I had not just come out of it, I had snapped completely back into reality, I was fully lucid and sober. I had only seen how much time had passed- less than an hour- but it had felt like an eternity. I was so confused and disoriented. How did it just stop like that? I laughed out of sheer relief that it was over. I sat with a terrible nausea that only developed more as night turned into morning, culminating in me repeatedly vomiting and barely being able to keep water down for much of the day. Some terrible psychosomatic reaction maybe, or some adverse reaction to the opioid as I don't use them often. I really thought I had finally broken reality. I was grateful to be released from this void.

3-F-PCiPr

Age: 29

Weight: 140 lbs

Dosage: 70 mg intransal

Setting: At home. Very cold winter night.

 

[Note: Because I have built up a tolerance to dissociatives, this is a higher dose than most should take. To a beginner I would suggest a dose of around 30-50 mg.]

 

Halogenated Arylcyclohexylamines are a wellspring of untapped potential in drug development. We currently have 3-F-PCP and 3-Cl-PCP, two fascinating and unique compounds with interesting properties that set them apart from the standard alkane/alkoxy/hydroxy substituted compounds. With such a small sample size of 3 compounds it’s hard for me to say broadly how they differ from the others, but there is something commonly distinct about them that is difficult to pin down. Perhaps it’s a lack of the same manic rush and a more smooth and grounded experience? Hard to say. Halogenated compounds of course also exist in the realm of 2’-oxo substituted Arylcyclohexylamines, famously in Ketamine, or 2F-DCK, or 2-FXE, but those yield their own unique discrete categorical experience. When I say halogenated ACH’s I’m not talking about those ones. The halogenated ACH’s are fairly unpredictable in their subjective effects- all we can discern is they are relatively impotent, most dosing in the range of 50+ mg. The duration can vary between compounds, though I hypothesize that bulkier halogens have a longer duration (along with being less potent, as seen between 3-F-PCP and 3-Cl-PCP). The fineries of their subjective effects are bizarre, as I said before they stand apart from other arylcyclohexylamines but in an obscure and esoteric way that manages to permeate the entire experience. Each one is unique and unpredictable. While we can gauge rough estimates of potency from their affinities, the phenomenology of each compound is truly a great unknown. Unexpected nootropic effects? Empathogenic and anxiolytic effects from 3-Cl-Substitutions? What peripheral activity is going on? It’s a mystery and perhaps a Pandora’s box to crack open. One of the last truly wild frontiers of what we can experience. Halogenated arylcyclohexylamnies should be the future.

But I digress.

This compound is so precious. It has a unique heaviness and motion that feels unlike any other dissociative. The headspace is at first wild and jumbled, but then clear and focused, there are waves of euphoric comfort, mania feels natural, not driven or overclocked. I have taken it up to 100 mg; it is extremely intense at that level, a complete reality-shattering-time-scrambling experience; Its depths are immense. I initially sampled it sublingually; I found it too had the phenomenon of 3-Cl-PCP where it makes sour flavors taste sweet. It Is significantly less potent sublingually but with a longer duration. I do not know how it behaves orally. I would rate it on the heavier side of compounds in general, finding more kinship in ketamine than PCP. But it is quite unlike either of those. There feel like acute nootropic properties to this compound. It might do miraculous things while microdosed, but sadly the test batch I was blessed with was very small. It is something that should be investigated further.

 

T0:00- Dose taken intranasally while listening to Doom metal. It doesn’t sting much, it smells like wet dirt. A sting starts to set in after a few minutes however.

 

T0:15- My fingertips start to feel numb. I am watching Youtube videos on grim subjects.

 

T0:18- Feeling a rush to my head now, I feel like I am turning to soft foam.

 

T0:20- It's a distinctive rush I don't feel from many other dissociatives- it radiates from the sinuses and hits right behind the eyes, it's cool, tight, expanding outwards with gentle pressure, it feels like flowing sugar, sparkly and wispy. The rest of my body begins to feel wobbly and dizzy

 

T0:30- I am having a hard time understanding things. It is challenging to engage in short term memories and tie them into the current stream of information, like there is an interruption in that internal communication. It is a state of existing purely in the present, mindfulness, but with severed connection to future or past. Just battered with the windowpanes of the present, one after another, smashed against my face, frame by frame, I am enjoying this thrilling ride. I can exist as this creature with no past or future, I can be a glass salamander and wriggle into the wet leaves and geosmin odor still lingering in my pulsing thrashing slightly stinging sinuses.

 

T0:40- Everything feels tight. Dissociatives exert pressure in many ways. There is soft inflating pressure. There is sandy riverine pressure. This is a tight and tense pressure, pressure exerted from forces pulling taut from far away, distances unknown into the abyss. It is like being wrapped in silk and having it be pulled tight from both ends. Everything feels heavy, gravity is apparent, it feels like everything around me is underlined with a sinking force.

Visuals present, with open eyes there are ripples of static and waves and pulses, all with a systematic pixelated character. The colors are on the duller and darker end of the spectrum-rusts and dark teals.

There isn’t a driving, riven mania, but there is a sneaky mania that is hard to discern until its too late, a snake lying in wait. It feels natural though, permissible, not forceful and gouged in like 3-MeO-substituted compounds. Perhaps in retrospect I performed manic activities but in the thick of it I wouldn’t say I felt any specific mania. It feels a heavy blankness, but a profound one, that grants a comforting and smooth euphoria; it is alright to not know the world’s mysteries.

Everything is flashing and buzzing. I smoke a bit of cannabis now as it sets in heavier and heavier. Pixelated stars and sparkles stream down the screen of my computer. My body is smooth and numb, there is a waviness like being on a boat, I feel a tad nauseous, which is quite rare for dissociatives for me.

 

T0:50- There is a heavy fizzy buzz dancing across my skin. Like rain pattering down on me from every angle to match the forms of my body, each drip dense in numb static. I am getting little neon afterimages of things, as strobing tracers, turquoise and icy blue. I lie still and my body sinks and dissolves. It is all pixelated- everything is assumed at first into lower resolutions, I feel like my body is being deconstructed into a voxel form like Minecraft blocks, continually resolving to smaller blocks increasing the resolution in resounding waves; my sense of body ultimately dissolves into a stepped geometric form reminiscent of a Fresnel lens of a lighthouse light. But oddly enough I am still aware of my body, I can still snap out of this if I want. This immersive pseudo-hole doesn’t bear the fiery manic motion of other compounds, I am distorted and still, there is no twisting, turning tilting, I am just stone still in my glass sarcophagus; rather I am the glass sarcophagus, that impossibly has the texture of stiff Styrofoam. I am a buzzing statue. It feels fucking great. And I can just leave whenever I want. Everything in such beautiful efficient order. The perfections of proportion and composition highlighted ad nauseam wherever I looked. I am quite very couchlocked.

The previous confusion has given way to a crystal-clear lucidity. My mind is stimulated and running, almost psychedelic, effortlessly stringing together associations and memories like a well-practiced military drill. I am couchlocked in the sense that I am collapsing into a pit of voxels wherever I sit, but with my vitreous clear lucid mind I can just will myself up, snap out of it. A very controllable compound. I get up and walk around just to see that I can. I am a little uncoordinated and clumsy but not to a destructive degree.

The whole time I feel like I am at the precipice the threshold of something extreme, that I will soon plunge into its infinite depths and that I will be gradually lowered into ever deeper realms of this compound’s deep infinite vortex. It’s cool to know it’s there, but I have no particular drive to go deeper. I have taken higher doses of this compound before and I know just how deep the rabbit hole can go, it is exhilarating to watch it present itself, like it is truly another realm. My mind feels polished and smooth. It feels like everything is happening more efficiently.

 

T1:00- I’m functional, I’m smooth and heavy, I can sink in and out at will, I feel so powerful. I am reading about the history of the Mongols (again; I always like to learn more about them when I’m dissed). I love taking in information. I love imagining from the information I am taking in. I feel imaginative immersion as though I was a child. It is a golden delight. I feel like the world around me is sinking into my skull. This is a very egoistic experience. Solipsistic even. Striated gravity wells in deep forest green and maroon pour into me from every direction. It is so soft and pleasant. I am texting friends and being sociable. I am articulate and rational in my writing. As I perceive it I am not flinging manic excesses or triumphs, just elated conversation, just a subtle mania creeping through my veins, keeping me reasonable, rational. It feels restrained and I appreciate that.

 

T1:15- There is so much weight to this. It is so easy to get stuck in one place, physically. My limbs all feel so heavy and it is tiresome to lift them. It’s so so heavy, but I still find it is hard to really truly sink into a total hole. There is always still a bit of my body, there is always still knowing that I can just summon total control again. Higher doses were quite overwhelming but I really still could stand up out of that. I am meant to still function.

I am thinking about chemistry again, I haven’t done chemistry for almost a year now but it’s all coming back to me, vivid memories. I can just pick through them like a video rental. I can think and talk about chemistry coherently too, converse about it with people. I was never quite good at chemistry and never quite grasped the fundamentals, but even what I understand can be processed crystal clear through my mind.

I sense that the enforced segregated perception of only the present has expanded to me committing my short term memories to discrete blocks. Everything about this is blocky. The visuals are pixels. The tactile sensations are voxels. And now my perceptions of time and memory are being neatly packed into neon crates and set in order.

I don’t feel any strong compulsion to do anything. I am just listening to music. I feel like I am burning and sizzling with numb dissociative energy and that warmth is being sheared by a cold sharp razor wind off a frozen lake. I am content to just be couchlocked and take in information from all various media and news sources. Exhilarating. The experience is bright and sharp at the edges, and heavy and concentric at my core.  

 

T1:20- I feel it is starting to smooth out a bit. I am lucid but also very dissociated. It feels like a dissociation around the edges- I can maintain focus and composure, I am a raft in a sea of dissociation, the sun is beating down on me, the weather is beautiful. I can get up and do anything passably at this point. But I can feel the dissociation in every vein of my body. There are rushes through it too, there are moments where I feel like I need to catch mt breath. I feel a little sweaty.

 

T1:30- I lie and close my eyes again but there is no particularly forceful imagery. Dulled blues and ruddy oranges. Stepped and pixelated patterns as expected. I have to urinate frequently. I have no issue getting up and going upstairs. This is very pleasant. It makes talking to people on my phone very pleasant. I feel like I can have a good conversational flow and rapport.

T2:00- It is already a smooth comedown. All of the previously stated effects recede in equal measure, as a gentle gradient. Very merciful. I still feel so tight and dissed, I am so off base but I also feel normal? I am talking to a lot of people online. I find myself stilled. I don't really want to play video games. I don't really want to do anything. I like just existing here listening to music.

 

T2:30- I try to play Simpsons Hit and Run for a bit but decide I’m not in the mood for silly videogames. It just didn’t resonate with me, it did not feel like a worthwhile use of my time. There is a steady downturn, I feel a bit heavy and buzzy and warm.

 

T3:00- Spouse comes home, Mostly down now, just a little lingering daze. Eat dinner, not a ton of appetite. But I can do it.

 

T4:00- I do dishes, I feed my numerous predatory arachnids. My coordination feels normal at this point, my mind feels sharp and focused, making the tasks feel easier. There is no lasting stimulation at this point. I Just feel a bit numb in my body still.

 

T5:00- I feel mostly down. There’s a lingering tightness in my head and numbness in my extremities. I smoke a lot of cannabis. This actually brings the experience back up, but only the cognitive aspect- the physical dissociation is long gone. I begin reading online and poring through the sphere of the modern psychedelic-tech-intelligentsia and rationalist milieu and feel a burning inadequacy at how little I engage with philosophy, non-drug neuroscience, neuropsychology and pharmacology, I grapple with not being cut out for those intellectual spheres, I am a drug addict that only engages with the information immediate to my primary mission of finding new ways to embellish my life with pleasure; I design or suggest compounds not for lofty goals of improvement of the human lot but for my own personal quest to get high and enhance my life. It’s puerile and narcissistic, but it makes me happy. It’s a lot to suddenly grapple with, it feels like I have wasted such a good portion of my brain’s greatest youthful plasticity, that I chose the path of base pleasure over all else. Shameful. But curiously instead of a depressive spiral as per my tendency, I feel a compulsion to try and engage with the greater deeper analysis of the world more, to enrich my mind and grant it food for greater potentialities. I do something rare for my screen addled attention span and sit down and read a book in my own house, this time Andrew Gallimore’s fascinating “Reality Switch Technologies” which I have been meaning to read for months; and this is something I have observed with previous experiments with this compound, a compulsion to engage in things that will be meaningful, profound, enriching, that will help shape and codify and challenge my beliefs and values. Consumption of any written work feels like a means to this end, at least moreso than endlessly scrolling social media. It is a euphoric and hedonistic drug for sure, but in this phase of the experience I genuinely felt a drive to improve my mind and the ways in which I perceive and engage in the world, and this felt like something of great value. I fear my capacity for more intellectual and abstract thought has atrophied from years of base hedonistic abuse of my brain, but this compound gives me hope that perhaps I can recover some of the energy and drive that had motivated me before and perhaps could motivate me in the future. My thoughts feel cold and rational, perhaps this is just an illusion if intellectualism anchored to rationality but I could genuinely say that my cognitive abilities felt above baseline functionality.

 

T6:00 – The dust kicked up by the cannabis was a brief phenomenon, as it wears off the experience recedes to total baseline. At this point I don’t feel any specific effects. I am tired.

 

Conclusion: This is another very unique compound that contributes to a growing hypothesis of there being vast unknown frontiers in the world of halogenated arylcyclohexylamines. Lucid, comfortable, highly euphoric, insightful, and immensely profound. Perhaps what I find most fascinating about this one are the cognitive enhancing properties- they are not necessarily automatic or effortless, they must be specifically addressed to manifest, and they manifest strongest in the latter half of the experience, though I suspect that lower doses carry this property too without the initial muddling dissociative confusion. I think this could be a powerful therapeutic tool and a means for personal development if used properly and responsibly. It also has great recreational value, although I would argue less so than some existing arylcyclohexylamines, by virtue of that initial confusion and by making certain activities perhaps less palatable if they are not fulfilling enough. But alas, I am a sample size of one, perhaps these effects do not extend to others or were just a repeated factor of my set and setting. The only thing that can elucidate this is further study and broader sampling! I think this compound is a delight, it is not particularly potent but still within a good range for efficiency in production, it has a fairly short duration, and even if I am perhaps speaking too highly of it, it is still something valuable and delightful that bodes well for the development of other halogenated arylcyclohexylamines.

PCiPr

Age: 29

Weight: 140 lbs

Dosage: 35 mg intransal

Setting: At home. It is a grey rainy November day. I feel no particular compulsion to leave the house for the rest of the day.

 

 

[Note: Because I have built up a tolerance to dissociatives, this is a higher dose than most should take. To a beginner I would suggest a dose of around 15-20 mg.]

 

PCiPr is the basic scaffold of the PCiPr family, an arylcyclohexylamine with an Isopropyl substitution on the amine. I have only tried 2 other unsubstituted aryclcyclohexylamines that I can compare this to- PCP and PCPy, both of which are light and stimulating. Both of those however, are tertiary ring amines, not the secondary alkane of PCiPr- in this regard perhaps the closest comparison to it would be PCE, which I have sadly not tried yet. A commonality across all of these compounds seems to be high potency and a general stimulating, manic character.

PCiPr is bizarre. It is all-encompassing, it feels like it presents everything that dissociatives can offer in a single experience, to varying degrees at varying times. It is a dynamic experience that comes in waves and constantly changes character. It is challenging to contend with. It is a mess of contradictions- sometimes there is a deep sinking hole, sometimes there are flashes of mania, sometimes I am in a mindless daze, sometimes I am focused, alert, and curious. It feels as though the contradictions pulse and amplify and at times cancel each other out, leaving me feeling completely functional and in control of myself physically. Like the other unsubstituted compounds, it is stimulating and active.

 Like the other unsubstituted compounds, it is quite potent. A threshold can be found at 5 mg. There doesn’t seem to be much reward with pushing the dose higher. The effects at 15 mg feel more or less similar to the effects at 30 mg. I pushed it up to 40 mg even and didn’t find it that much more intense. I took a large dose for this report to guarantee that I could characterize this drug at its full strength, though I probably would’ve had a similar experience at 20 mg, it just would not have lasted as long. On the duration, it is notably quite long lasting with typically a very long onset- the experience I had for the sake of this report was actually a deviation in terms of the timespan, as the onset was within 15 minutes, though similar to my other experiences, the full peak of it had not quite set in until over an hour after dosing. In general I found the onset to be at around 30 minutes, with the peak coming in after 1-2 hours. It has quite a substantial duration, with overall duration at 18-30 hours depending on the dose; in many cases I would go to sleep and find myself still feeling dissociated the next day, especially if I had redosed at some point.

The peak is really a mess, as I’ve heard from others too- stupefying and disorienting and without a discernible striking character, but the later waves of the experience seem to carry more brightness and insight. I am not sure about the utility of this drug, nor do I find it especially recreational, though it is definitely interesting and it is a nice slow burn for a long night. I would love to compare this to PCPr and PCE one day.

 

T0:00- Dose snorted. Odor reminiscent of ether. There is a bit of a sting, and it sets in more over time, burning the most at 5 minutes.

 

T0:15- Maybe a bit of an onset as lightheadedness.

 

T0:20- The onset is certain now. I am feeling very spacey and dizzy. I am still not feeling it much in the rest of my body.

 

T0:40- I was working on a sketch while I came up, but this has probably crossed the point where my motor skills can no longer effectively place the lines on the paper that I intend. My fingertips begin to feel numb, my extremities begin to feel floppy with less and less control of my momentum. Very slight visuals begin to appear on blank surfaces, pulsing grid-like forms of spots and lines between them, flashing and pulsing slightly with no distinct color. The top of my head feels like it’s buzzing and evaporating off of me. My fingers at once feel floppy but tense.

 

T0:45- My head feels detached from me. My proprioception has gone awry as each of my limbs feel as though they are on their own. The locus of this sensation is in the head, where all the dissociative energy seems to drain. My entire skull is heavy and numb. Despite this, with concentration, I can still move about normally, though clumsily.

 

T0:50- Suddenly there is such a rush; this drug is typically subtle, it creeps up on me over a matter of hours. One moment I’m wondering if I took enough of a dose, but then gradually, I discover I am very far off base. It is an empty and blank dissociation. I am not quite sure what to do with it. I have no compulsion to engage with any activity, all I can do is just sit there and let the drug wash over me as a grand deluge. The visuals are light in color, regular patterns and arrays of round forms. Reminiscent of flowing texture of chain mail. Interestingly there is no strong manic drive. It is stimulating and functional but there isn’t that fire of self confidence and self-assuredness to cut like a knife through the experience.

 

T1:00- The peak of the experience has set in, disorienting and dizzying, it feels hot and raw and high energy, but also quite understated and in odd ways, there’s a crispness to my surroundings and my perceptions of those surroundings that seems out of sync with the toothy haze vibrating in my head. I feel very grounded in the world, the real world, adorned little with visuals as subtle creeps of textures along distinct lines and contrasts like trails of ants. I feel my body and its entirety, its pieces jumbled and out of place, I am acutely aware of every stray piece of it, cognitively at least, despite my physical numbness. All of these bizarre contradictions lock me in place, leave me stultified without a clear sense of what I want to do or where I want to be or really, overall, what I want in general, in the grand scheme of things, in this moment or any moment. The answer to “what do I want”, is a slack-jawed homunculus, the only response I could muster to that question would be “let me get back to you…” I’m not stifled for lack of stimulation, there is plenty, maybe even an undercurrent of mania, but it is directionless, hazy and braided. Fire with no motivation for why it burns. An ember that forgot the fire that birthed it. Anything I happen upon on my screens is interesting enough, I can take in information and have the curiosity to pursue it. Reading things is fun right now, clicking through Wikipedia hyperlinks is keeping me occupied. I am reading about the Wizard of Oz and also the Muslim Brotherhood. My head is on fire and it is numb. I am dizzy, like my head is inside of a brass jar that is being knocked around, gently.

 

T1:20- It’s a storm of contradicted nondescript character, it’s a riot of dissociation, just pure intense sensations that are hard to really characterize or parse, like being battered by wind. There is clearly something happening to me, but what is it- and is it really that different from how it was before? There are markers for normality here, but something just feels off- I find myself constantly chasing this odd contradiction between sensing that is something subtle and something intense. And in that confusion I lose sight of how far from land I really have drifted by this point in the experience. It sneaks up on me like that. It’s like I blink and suddenly realize that yes, actually, this is very maximal. I really am quite deep in it. Dissociation in every way imaginable, coming in from all sides, in every sense it could be described, all consuming, all manifesting, a chimera of limbs blurred in static, tails cast in patterns of vitreous squares, fangs of glowing light, numbing, smothering wings, a pulsing, rippling, buzzing roar, a cacophony of pipe organs collapsing on top of me, stretched, twisted, dazed, manic, heaving, heart racing, glassy-eyed and fully not a part of myself. And oddly, quite dull and grey, or at least a drab olive or mauve. To put in less flowery terms, I feel like I am getting a sense of all the different ways dissociatives can manifest. There is a heavy anesthetizing numbness. There are trickles of stimulation and mania. I am in a daze, my head is spinning; There’s that cracked focus at points, and at other points just an empty haze, there’s motivation and stillness, it’s all the myriad contradictions of the dissociative world manifest as one, coming in waves and pulses. And in the throes of this, I genuinely, truly, do not know what to do. I can sink if I want, though I doubt I could truly hole on this with so much else going on. I can just as easily get up and navigate about my house with no problem, maybe a bit stumbly.

 

T2:00- I am contending with this state like an animal pacing my cage. Previous times I have taken this, I had a task at hand, and the drug would wear disorientingly through that task. I am just flopping around my house today doing fuck all, fully unemployed and directionless. The world is my oyster, and I am a very lost and confused parasite within that oyster. Everything feels heavy. Everything also feels light. Everything feels urgent. Everything feels hot. I have not taken my temperature but I suspect this drug induces a bit of hyperthermia. I lie back and close my eyes and listen to music, the overdriven breakcore of Femtanyl. It feels suitably frenetic for this state. Visuals in the dark are hard to parse, they have a short lifespan and change character frequently, drifting, blurring, glitching grids and abrupt shifts in character. While it may seem synesthetic they were like this without the music too. It is electric in the dark, I feel like I am being cooked in various ways, sizzled, roasted, melted, all sorts of warm, high-energy shifts between my perception of my own form and matter. I am drooling on myself. That normally doesn’t happen when I try to hole. I smoke a bit of cannabis. This actually does not seem to affect the experience much. Maybe just adds a couple more teeth into the waveforms of all that is going on.

 

T3:00- The intensity has not shifted at all. I have just been bouncing between tasks for the last hour. I tried playing videogames for a bit but I did not find them satisfying. I am distractible. I am listening to music and reading about things on the internet. It’s still flowing, it’s all still flowing. It’s a pleasant daze. It feels like the fabric of reality is raining down on me. I can pull the downpours around me like a blanket.

 

T4:00- I still feel the same overall. There is a fairly clearheaded lucidity throughout all of this that makes it all the more confusing in contrast with all of the other symptoms. What a peculiar compound. I decide to do a number of chores; I would feel guilty if my spouse was out working all day and came home to me lounging around on drugs without tending to the house! And just like that, amid all the chimeras and the maelstroms of confusion and a million different dissociations I stand up and go about my business. It really is an odd drug like this. I go about cleaning the kitchen and washing the dishes, just going about it normally and matter-of-factly, not even in the heightened frenetic way I go about my chores when I normally take manic dissociatives to make them easier. They are not any more unpleasant than they are sober, there is no gamified drive to burn through them, I just do it. Very oddly neutral. This feels like an experience of a vast field of different pulsing waves with their own frequencies, some matched up, some not, and in that chaos, some amplify and others destructively interfere- it’s like averaging out to a state of functionality from all the extremities of the dissociative inputs. I flit around the house, tidying and picking up, with just enough coordination to not make a further mess of things. There’s a bit of a spring in my step. I don’t find myself really thinking about much at all while doing this.

 

T5:00- I take a nice hot shower. This creates an incredible sensory space, particularly auditorily, with the sound of the droplets of water reverberating and echoing and flanging on and on into a metallic eternity. I come out and feel invigorated. I am beginning to feel a bit of fatigue and strain at still sustaining this degree of dissociation for this long, there is a certain hollowness to the experience now that maybe signals it starting to trickle out. I am now caught deep into reading about the life and times of the legendary environmentalist and anarchist Edward Abbey, of knowing that he was of a world I would never experience. I wonder how he would feel about the wilderness and solitude he so espoused becoming so small in the world of global wireless information. My heart ached for the endless bounds of a world I could never experience. I ached for the absolute freedom of solitude, then wondered if my place was solitude, or what could solitude even mean in the world now; Did I truly seek solitude or some histrionic and impertinent avoidance of others, free flow of thoughts and introspection, pleasant and perhaps useful in the right context.

 

T6:00- For the last hour it has felt like the experience was lightening up and receding. But without warning, it again swells. my body is just a floppy rubber sheet at the mercy of the surface of a rolling ocean. I am dizzy and suddenly have a more difficult time making sense of what I am reading.

My spouse comes home, I can converse with them normally but I am outwardly noticeably on dissociatives still.

 

T8:00- It recedes again; I eat a dinner of leftovers. Over these long hours there doesn’t seem to be much effect on my appetite. There will be moments when the drug suddenly peaks in intensity again, where I will feel a wash of dissociating numbness and it will again feel like I am just 2 hours into the experience. This will then inexplicably pass. There was no discernible regularity or pattern to it.

 

T9:00- Just watching TV with my spouse and playing Total War: Warhammer III. It’s a fun cozy time. The experience mostly just lingers as a warm buzzing daze, waves of intensity still occasionally roll through.

 

T12:00- I am mostly down to baseline but there is still a lingering lightheadedness and dizziness. Stimulation and a slight mania provide a steady baseline. The waves aren’t really coming anymore.

 

T14:00- I feel the same as before. I go to sleep now with my normal medications and not much issue. I still felt a little stimulated, but not something that my 50 mg of Trazodone couldn’t cut through.

 

The next day:

 

T22:00- I still feel it a bit, there is still a bit of loss of equilibrium and I still feel a little dizzy and numb. This lingers for a while. I feel hypomanic when I wake up.

 

T28:00- I would say I am completely back to baseline now.

 

Conclusion: It was challenging to write this report, this is such a difficult drug to describe. I know a colleague of mine stalled on writing their report on this compound for quite some time. It is really bizarre and full of so many little quirks that I teased out from a number of tests. I consumed this compound a lot, even binged it at times, trying to crack its secrets and figure out the lingering questions it left me with. This report came about from a final conclusion of examining all of its angles. It is an everything dissociative, it offers dissociation in so many different ways, it is extremely disorienting and it lasts forever, it sneaks up on me and pangs viciously between subtle and functional and intensely confusing and maximalized. It can be fun combined with an experience and motivation; its dynamics can shift throughout an experience, offering all sorts of different ways to engage with it. I am not sure if I could recommend it as being particularly suitable for anything though, it is simply too disorienting and challenging. It can take the user to many places, even ones they may not want to venture into. It is certainly unique.

3,4-MD-PCPr

Age: 29

Weight: 140 lbs

Dosage: 80 mg intransal

Setting: At home

 

[Note: Because I have built up a tolerance to dissociatives, for one without tolerance, such an experience may be found in the range of 60-70 mg. A more manageable experience probably sits in the range of 30-50 mg.]

 

Preface: Another 3,4-MD substituted arylcyclohexylamine-care must be taken to distinguish from 3,4-MD-PCiPr- think MXPr vs. MXiPr. This compound is very interesting in the literature: out of a suite of similar compounds tested for broad-spectrum affinities it stood out as having one of the highest affinities for the NMDA receptor, along with being one of the most selective. What does selectivity mean here? Psychoactive drugs are defined by their primary mechanism of action, NMDA antagonism for dissociatives, 5-HT2A agonism for psychedelics, MOR agonism for opioids etc; because that is the action that drives the desired and noticeable effects. Most drugs hit a variety of other receptors too however- these are peripheral effects. Notably, many NMDA antagonists have peripheral activity on the monoamine transporters, giving them stimulant activity. A selective compound is one that hits the receptor of interest to a much higher degree than it hits any other receptors.

All of this is to say that 3,4-MD-PCPr is in that sense, a very “pure” dissociative- it drives the primary mechanism of drug induced dissociation without doing much else. The only other compound that was comparable in this regard was 2,5-DiMeO-PCP, interestingly enough. Perhaps selectivity is driven by having two aromatic substitutions. Per the dissertation, 3,4-MD-PCPr also had an exceptionally high affinity for the NMDA receptor, which would suggest that it was extremely potent- this oddly enough did not turn out to be the case. I am not sure what the explanation for this would be.

This is an odyssey of a compound, the experience is intense, all consuming, and lasts for a very very long time, with a duration of almost 30 hours. This is one of the longest lasting dissociatives I have ever consumed in fact. Perhaps that is a function of the exceptionally high affinity. While this is a higher dose, it was not overwhelming to the point of being incomprehensible- there was a sense that I could’ve gone even deeper, there was more to be found, but this much dazing intensity for so long made me reluctant to explore further, it was simply exhausting and I do not have the time for that. It is a numbing journey, vibrant and diverse, and can be manifested and adapted in various ways to the circumstances. It is quite anesthetic- perhaps it may have some use there. It is another one like 3,4-MD-PCP that is hard to really describe. It is a fascinating example of how those pharmacological properties can manifest in person.

 

T0:00- Dose taken intranasally. The powder is light and fluffy. It has an unpleasant flavor but there is no pain or sting.

 

T0:12- I go out to the outdoor market to get produce. It is a bright hot day in the late summer. I feel the onset- feeling a bit lightheaded and dizzy. There is no interference with interacting with the shopkeepers.

 

T0:30- I get home. I feel the drug more and more, but it is still very slow and gradual. There is a little bit of an extra push and extra momentum in every step.

 

T0:40- I feel pressure in the front of my head, like I am wearing a tight headband.

 

T0:50- It comes on more and more. It feels like a great wave is washing over me and tossing me about. Still gentle and manageable, but impossible to ignore at this point. I am quite dizzy.

 

T1:00- It grows heavier and heavier. I aimlessly scroll social media and read Wikipedia pages. I am having a hard time maintaining a stream of attention, I am distractable, but nothing seems particularly interesting. It feels so gradual and smooth. I see visual effects start to wobble in the ceiling. Concentric corrugated patterns in navy blue ripple and wiggle.

 

T1:20- How it comes now, a great storm washing waves over my deck. Lamps are tossed about and set the whole ship alight. It feels like that; I am suddenly burning with energy while great forces overtake me from places unknown. It’s a heavy dissociation. It progressed slowly and smoothly, but at once, the floodwaters are taken with heavy chunks of earth and debris; the gentle flow hits a surge; I can almost feel the impact of the sudden drop in intensity. It feels like heavy static has been poured over my existence like viscous syrup. Everything feels heavy, everything is beholden to gravity, it feels like the air is pulling me down into my chair. I let out a deep sigh.

But still- it is smooth, it is polite, it is gentle and intentional. It aims to make such jarring shifts in contrast as comfortable as possible. My fingers are heavy.

I blink three times, squinch my eyes, exhale sharply, and look up. Peculiar. I stand up and move around; despite the wave of sinking dissociative heaviness, I can quickly switch to being functional; albeit in a dazed, numb, shellshocked and clumsy state. I am dizzy and spacey and vibrating, my extremities feel heavy, my eyes feel like they are on the back of my skull and my skin feels like it is made of rigid plastic. I manage to roll a passable joint and go out into the backyard to smoke. The sky is a ceiling above me and the leaves rustle and set in flat planes exactly parallel to my body. I finish and go back inside. I am comfortable and content.

 

T1:35- I am back inside now. Cannabis certainly potentiated the experience. As it will always do. Everything feels heavy. The walls seem like they are angrily pressing down into a resistant floor. My footsteps feel like drumbeats. It feels like sand is falling over me, burying me. It feels okay to stand up, I can function with it, but there is a persistent compulsion to be still. The room perceived as tangled and bent moves around me and adjusts itself to form a path for me. I flop down in my study and put on Khoomei music (Tuvan throat singing of the steppe peoples; I’ve been taken with a fascination of reading about the Mongol Empire recently). The tempo and dynamics imitate the rhythm of the galloping horse, and as such, the sound tramples circles around the ceiling of my room.

I am just lying flat on the couch now, the ultimate heaven. I recognize that I can get up and engage with things and explore how this compound interacts with my various enrichment items scattered around the room. But all I want to do is sit still. I feel like I am being buried in vibrating sand that looks like TV static. So much of a total sense of buzzing, rumbling, vibrating throughout my entire body in pleasant ways. I stare up at the ceiling- Visuals present in pulsing grids, various shades of neon and pastel yellows and oranges. They shift and arrange in patterns of scales and ripples. They traverse naturally as a river would. Non-intrusive, merely there. Similar scenes played out on other blank surfaces. My head is heavy and I am very distractible, pacing like a zoo animal, not sure what I want to do- Do I want to move, do I want to play a video game, do I want to draw, do I want to just lie down and sink into the experience. The headspace is lucid and rational, which is curious.

I opt to just lie still and close my eyes and listen to music. There is an energy of blurred heat waves pulsing off any sharp corners in my vision. A Saint Elmo’s Fire of dissociation. It feels like huge icebergs are bouncing and pushing the loose phantom of what I consider my physical form. It all feels so big! Everything feels bigger and grander. It is monolithic. Everything is huge and heavy. Everything is towering. This is a drug that is epic in its scope.

 

T1:50- I put on music- Boards of Canada’s “Geogaddi”- luscious, eerie, intentional, each track feels like a living being. I shun the curtains and turn off the lights. I tie a bandana around my eyes. Immediately my body is subsumed by the earth and taken into its bosom. My consciousness is packed into a new avatar, limbless, roughly human shaped, a pale golem with few polygons. Carpets of grid patterns wrap tightly around it and I am transported about like a rollercoaster. There is a sense of motion; turning, twisting, rotating, at times being folded and rearranged, all of it soft and pleasant. Skies of patterned pastel colors, distant lands in crystal grids. There is so much sense of weight, this new conscious avatar feels bounded by heavy chains. There is often a sense of my form inflating, growing larger, twisting and bending. The annals of this experience were largely incomprehensible, just a pleasant sensory experience. I feel lucid, all I can do is really think and appreciate this experience, its soft vanilla edges, its clever designs and pleasant tactile surfaces.

 

T2:10- As the music plays I drift in and out of this space. I open my eyes sometimes and stare at the ceiling as purple and orange patterns pulse across the space in mathematical regularity. I drift now. All I can do is drift. I am full of waves. I am full of thoughts that I can’t quite piece together, but there is an underlying sense of tranquility, so this doesn’t bother me much. The couchlock is hyperbolic. I feel like a statue. I feel so content to be completely still. This is what I was meant to do, to be stoic, to be empty and tired as the clouds pass around me, sand pouring in over my head, pressing down on me more the deeper it gets. There is still a sense of motion, of hovering, of my shape expanding. I can try to do other things but this state is simply pleasant, the path of least resistance.

 

T2:15- There is a soothing tranquil euphoria that wells through me. This is a journey with fair winds. I need to go the bathroom. I force myself up and find that I can stand and walk perfectly normally. My hands feel like wooden blocks and I feel like my head is floating separately from my body but I can still operate. I come back to my room and sit down and sink in again. This can really be whatever I want it to.

 

T2:20- My spouse comes home from running separate errands throughout the day. I make small talk with them and while it is obvious that I am on a dissociative, I am still able to converse coherently. It just feels like I need to quickly visualize each word before I place it. I go up the stairs and follow them around the house, both of us just chatting about our days. There is no real boost to sociality, rather a mild difficulty quickly stringing thoughts together.

 

T2:40- It is so smooth and pleasant and gentle, It is so nice to just lay here and let it take me over. At once though, it is intimidatingly intense still, almost 3 hours in, with no sign of relenting.

 

T3:00- It comes and goes in waves of intensity with little rhyme or reason. I am in a daze, unable to focus on deciding a task. The air feels dense with times and memories. The room is stuffy and stifling. It feels like ambient energy around the room is sticking to me and building up and I do not know what to do with it. I have a bit of a headache. It is heavy and distant, a great beast whose scale is shown in diffused dust and mist. There is a sense of unreality, that a new world will spawn behind my door when I close it. There is a sense that everything in my room is preprogrammed as are my interactions with those objects. But these were just fun frolicking thoughts, nothing to seriously consider. Orange and green grid patterns now cast over everything.

 

T4:00- I feel heavy but there has not been an imposing sense of a rush throughout this experience. The drug has operated in the background, with great weight and vigor. There is little mania, but there is a subtle sort of self-serving self-congratulating bent to thought processes about the self. I sit down and play Ocarina of time- I am trying to attain the lens of truth. The dissociation is heavy and hard to ignore. I feel like I have to keep fighting it off when I sit still and focus on a task.

 

T5:00- Still quite intense. I can still achieve some state of loss of body and full closed eyed visual spaces if I lie down. The peak has been waves of intensity for the last 4 hours. It feels cavernous and colossal. It feels like a long journey. I can still talk and function. I don’t have much appetite. I am kind of tired of the lingering intensity at this point.

 

T7:00- A friend who happened to have officiated our wedding has come over for dinner. I can socialize normally but it is still affected by a sense of consciously choosing every word. I still stutter and trip on words as I do with dissociatives. The intensity does seem like it has begun a very long gradual descent.

 

T8:00- Normally I do all the kitchen functions because I am a control freak. I usually like to cook for guests, but this time around my spouse has offered to do it with my friend so I get to just sit back in a daze. I am lounging in an easy chair, there is no longer a sense that I can sink fully into the experience anymore. That was starting to get frustratingly disorienting, but I do find the general sense of cognitive slowness, dizziness and odd senses of proprioception and weight to be annoying at this point.

 

T10:00- I eat dinner. I don’t have much appetite at all but I manage to finish it. I am still pretty dazed, but I am certainly less incapacitated than I was 2 hours ago. I can converse more normally now which is a blessing. But I am still dizzy, stunted, slow.

 

T14:00- Have just been hanging out and playing videogames. It’s really still there. Wow. I mostly just feel it in my body now, along with a sort of dazed flatness in my head. My limbs feel gangly with excess momentum and more weight in the hands. There is still an odd spring in my gait. It is now 4 A.M. I don’t feel particularly stimulated though I still sense it would be annoying trying to sleep on this drug without any assistance. I take my prescribed 50 mg of Trazodone, 25 mg of Doxylamine, and fall asleep.

 

-The next day-

 

T22:00- I wake up at noon. I definitely still feel dissed. There is tightness around my head. I feel dizzy and detached from things. My equilibrium does not feel fully restored. I am still in my head, taking in the world around me with a degree of separation. My limbs still feel oddly weighted. Whuff.

 

T26:00- It has gradually settled away throughout the day. I have to drive up and meet a friend. I get in the car, pull out of the space, drive down the road a little, and immediately settle into the first parking space I see. I can’t do this. I have lost my sense of the space the car takes up, my reaction times are poor, and I feel oddly distractible. None of that. I cancel those plans.

 

T28:00- Less and less but It is still present. I mostly just feel it as a physical sensation in my head, and still an odd spacy dissociation from objects I interact with immediately.

 

T30:00- There is perhaps a still lingering afterglow but the effects seem to have mostly subsided by this point.

 

Conclusion: What a saga. This is not something to be taken lightly or casually. I suppose this is what pure ultra-high affinity ultra-selective NMDAr antagonism feels like. Long and difficult to parse or describe. A heavy and all-consuming type of experience that really just drags on forever. It is perhaps meditative and insightful, but any lessons are eventually lost in the throes of travailing its waves for more than a day. It is blissful, smooth, confident without the mania, anesthetizing and couch-locking. But I can easily wrangle myself out of it to walk and talk and function, albeit a bit handicapped. There are so many layers and levels to this compound, which is natural for something with a duration of 30 hours.