Sunday, November 14, 2021


Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 40 mg intranasal

Setting: My house



The next 3 paragraphs are heavy pharm/chem jargon, skip to the bottom of the preface for a summary of this new dissociative, skip to the end of the preface for my full report.

3,4-MD-PCP is yet another new arylcyclohexylamine. While most new ones have been following a fairly predictable pattern for design, 3,4-MD-PCP brings something new to the table. The 3,4-MD denotes a methylenedioxy group attached to the 3 and 4 positions of a phenyl ring. Chem savvy drug users may instantly recognize this as the distinctive substitution on the methamphetamine base that forms MDMA. It can also be seen in other stimulants like MDPV and Methylone. In this case, the methylenedioxygroup is seen attached to the phenyl ring in PCP.

So in seeing this, one may think- “Wow! So is this compound a combination of PCP and MDMA?”. That is not how drugs work though. The effects of MDMA are due to the interplay of the 3,4-MD substitution with the amphetamine base. Lacking that amphetamine base, a 3,4-MD group will not generate the empathogenic effects MDMA is so known for. It is simply a coincidence that a 3,4-MD group retains some sort of psychoactive activity on both the PCP and Methamphetamine base. Rather, this molecule stands alone as a unique and fascinating dissociative drug, vastly different from both PCP and MDMA.

It is worth noting that 3,4-MD-PCPr is the most selective NMDA antagonist known. (The source for this is Dr. Jason Wallach’s dissertation) This means it would hypothetically offer about as pure of a dissociative experience as possible, as most other dissociatives hit a variety of other receptors, giving them peripheral stimulant effects. 3,4-MD-PCPr pretty much only hits the NMDA and DAT receptor (most other dissociatives hit serotonin and norepinephrine receptors in some way too)- there is perhaps something very interesting to be explored there- is this selectivity a result of the 3,4-MD substitution? Only further studies and more data can tell us.

Anyways, all the jargon aside, what is this compound like? It is a unique dissociative, I find it hard to really grasp the words to summarize it. Perhaps what characterized it the most was how many forms it could take, depending on dose or set or setting. It is an amorphous compound that molds itself to all sorts of situations. I could throw a million descriptors in the air and all of them would be true to some degree: warm, social, manic, stimulating, insightful, introspective, heavy, visual, colorful, disorienting, confusing, lucid, dizzy, dancey, grounded, precise, whimsical, futuristic, the list goes on! It is a truly exciting compound that has been fascinating to research. At times it felt sentient, like I was engaging in a complex interplay with some other being or some creature, curious and alive and fully interactive. It is my colorful dissociative little pet.

I ran several trials with this compound at doses ranging from 5 mg up to 50 mg. I tried it in different settings, like an outdoor rave, or the grocery store, or most times, just alone in my house. Each time felt quite distinct, but ultimately some commonalities began to develop between them. Most of all is a sense of being transferred to an enhanced other self, it is an odd sort of transitive mania where it feels like my consciousness and body have shifted to some other superior form, or perhaps reality has shifted around me. It feels like I am piloting my body as a mech, with impossibly precise handling and motor control. I found my ideal dose to be around 30-40 mg. 50 mg was overwhelming and lasted for a very long time. Lower doses are sociable and fun for dancing. Most of my trials were intranasal, though it is active orally and sublingually with about the same potency, just a longer duration. The duration is medium-long, dependent on dosage. A 50 mg dose lasted long into the night and I was still feeling it the next morning. A dose around 30 mg lasted for about 5-6 hours. The powder is unpleasant to snort- not extremely caustic but foul tasting and very powdery, coating the sinuses. The following report is for a 40 mg intranasal dose. I apologize for it being vague, contradictory, and abstract at points. This is a compound that really defies coherent description, even for me.


T0:00- Dose taken intranasally. Powder is light and fluffy and slightly stings and irritates but above all else, is pretty foul tasting. Snorting it is unpleasant, after chuffing down one line I have to wait a minute to finish the other. It is a sizable pile of powder.


T0:17- Onset, feeling a little bit dizzy and lightheaded. I am watching King of the Hill with my partner and playing Minecraft. The show slowly becomes harder and harder to make sense of. I’m having a lot of fun building my little castle though. I smoke a bit of cannabis as I come up.


T0:30- My head feels so heavy and floppy, my fingertips are numb, it is like my brain is immensely heavy and floating in the middle of my skull, not touching anything, just drawing in its surroundings with a sundering gravitational force. A powerful numbing sensation fades in from the front of my head. It feels like the room is moving, rocking on a gentle sea. My mind is adrift but grounded like a balloon anchored to the earth, tossing about in the breeze.

I feel like my consciousness has shifted slightly to the side of my body. I still try and follow the TV show but it makes little sense at this point. The events on the screen seem too disjointed and nonsensical to be of interest to me. I feel like I am emphasizing the wrong details of it and ignoring the parts that are actually important to understanding it. I doubt I could hold a conversation well right now and don’t bother.



T1:00- Effects are still building, washing over me, that same sensation as laying in the ocean and having its waves buffet my head. Visuals begin to build in my periphery, tangled circuitry like dense networks of roots and mycelium twisting and turning at right angles, translucent and gelatinous. My entire field of vision is taken by an intense flashing, the world flickering in great violet pulses. The experience feels psychedelic, in the limber flow of thoughts, in my hyperfocus, in the anticipation building at the sight of iridescent visuals creeping in. It is being etched into my mind with a fiery bright laser. I am so dizzy, each moment I feel an odd contradiction building where I feel further from my body, receded into empty space- yet immaculately and completely in control of it. I get up and move around and don’t feel particularly uncoordinated, rather like I am compensating for momentum and moving my muscles with an impossible precision. This is a confusing sensation because these limbs don’t quite feel like they belong to me. I would liken it to a sensation of piloting my own body as if it were a mech suit, my consciousness a little homunculus of myself perched in my skull cavity, pulling levers and joysticks to make my muscles move. I feel dry like I have been desiccated under a heat lamp. The character of the comeup is that of a slowly sinking dissociation, smooth and steady and constant, not rushing or pulling or gushing forth like a churning river.


T1:30- Time for me to practice my standard for characterizing dissociatives- turning all the lights off, lying down in the total dark and listening to music through headphones. My selection this time around is a perennial favorite, Oneohtrix Point Never’s “Garden of Delete”. It is a familiar and exciting and interesting album that always provides a fascinating substrate for dynamic synesthesia.

My notes resume some 30 minutes later (I didn’t finish the album I got too restless just lying there). This speaks to the character of the experience of course- as much fun as it is to just lie around, there is a compulsion to do something, to occupy my thoughts and actions with something more stimulating to all of my senses. I don’t want to just aimlessly be in the dark. Furthermore, there wasn’t much of a hole to speak of, there was no sense of all-encompassing dissociation, no sense of my body fading entirely. No sense of being altered and twisted in impossible ways or feeling like I am levitating or feeling as though there are odd pressures being exerted on me, as other dissociative holes tend to offer. I am quite aware that my body is there, lying still on the couch,  and though it is still distinctly numb and dissociated, there is still that sense that my consciousness has shrunk or shifted or changed its form to no longer match me physically.

Despite this, it was still a deeply immersive experience, replete with amorphous synesthetic visuals, great monolithic things lurking in the distance. They weren’t particularly vivid or active, swirling and blurring and at times faint and indistinct, but something was going on. The realms are soft, silken, smooth and flowing like winds through a meadow or banks of fog gently enveloping a rolling landscape. They are smooth and shaded like a computer render.

The sense of immersion came primarily, however, from a sense of presence, like the drug was a playmate, wrapping around me, clutching me, lurking in the wings to pounce and strike. It has motion, desire, intention, all the trappings of a living breathing thing and yet it is nothing more than the cascade through my nerves of some white powder up my nose. I am sunken in its world as it flits and floats around me, curious and inquisitive, glowing in the night. I am taken with its wonder, swept up in its light and motion, possessed by its mind. How fascinating!

I stand up and return to the world, able to reintegrate easily. Standing and walking proves no issue. I feel imbued with a glowing energy, I feel like I have powered up and entered some ascendant form. Everywhere I turn my eyes seems like a perfectly composed movie shot. I stand tall and proud as energy flickers off of my muscles as they shift and move with impossible precision. Perhaps this is a form of mania.


T2:00- This experience is so full of contradictions and challenging descriptions. At once, lying still, I am lucid, I am able to think clearly, to interact with the world around me, yet at the same time, I feel so remarkably far from myself, distant and weird, I have been transformed into some glistening crystalline other.

I am now just laying about, eyes open, lights still off, music playing through my busted laptop speakers, browsing the internet. I bask in its glow, not fully paying attention to the screen, just thinking and meditating. Visuals stream and creep in the dark, melting and shifting with a steady motion like a curtain of water running down a wall. This drug seems to have little character of its own, rather it will imprint on my current conditions and emotions. It is alive, sentient, and fully amorphous. I am fixated on sex, sexuality, the nature of lust and desire, not in the sense of arousal but in the sense of it being a subject to ponder. This is probably imprinting on my immediate memory from earlier in the night where there was a vivid and intense encounter with multiple people. I take in my own body, my own form, I wonder how others experience desire, I wonder how others would experience desire towards me specifically, I think about how I personally experience desire. This compound offers so much to think about, but it remains relatively subtle, it gently suggests these thoughts, it doesn’t force them through in some manic rush (though as mentioned in the last timestamp, there is certainly an above-baseline degree of mania to the experience- quite pleasant!)


T2:41- I go upstairs and hang out with my partner while they get ready for bed. The peak seems to be descending by now. At this point I feel talkative and social and I am messaging people on my phone just for idle chitchat. I am acutely aware of my body at this point, despite the storm of dissociative numbness and dizziness. I am aware of all the little aches and pains that are constant nowadays at the ripe old age of 26. My muscles in particular feel incredibly tense. I get on the floor and stretch and contort myself to my hearts content, pulling every muscle to be supple and limber. I am not a very flexible person, I can’t even touch my toes, but I do the best I can and I feel great afterwards, with even more control of my body and limbs. It feels so empowering, I feel yet even more superhuman and ascendant, to continue the metaphor of piloting a mech I feel like I have undergone a full maintenance, all my parts oiled and cleaned and replaced to be fresh and fully, effortlessly mobile. I have nothing to do with this energy, with this sense of fulfillment, but that is okay, I am content to merely exist. I am blissful and languid and listless. I go back downstairs to be alone in the dark.


T3:30- Tossing about among the curtains of the world; I am lucid, mobile, functional. I don’t feel like I could descend into a hole or pseudo-hole at this point no matter how hard I may try. I am still feeling sociable and eager to interact with others and I have my bearings about me well enough to do so competently. I feel a compulsion to talk to my grandmother who lives on the other side of the planet. I feel sad, that this is my direct ancestor but I know next to nothing about her. I only see her once every few years and we usually only exchange small talk. She is in pain, lonely, bored, and depressed. It feels so odd to be so detached from someone within my direct bloodline. I am taken by the sadness of this, of the great cultural divide in my upbringing, in how I must create a false version of myself to peacefully coexist with an entire half of my family that lives in a deeply Conservative Islamic culture. I feel pangs of empathy, vividly imagining her passing the days just watching TV in her apartment, quiet and dim, widowed and alone. It nearly brings tears to my eyes. The amorphous nature of this compound reveals itself yet again, a prismatic fox bounding and twisting and nuzzling among my emotions, pulling into the depths of my heart, tugging at the great insurmountable sadnesses that permeate this world, larger than us and beyond our control. It is a but a misfortune of geography after all, that we cannot be closer, see each other more, entwine our lives as family should.

Once my mind catches onto a subject, the compound does too, eagerly enveloping each thought with crystalline vines that quickly grow into dense tendrils slither upwards to the sky, firing off as a dazzling display of fireworks in my neurons. This is a compound of presence, but that presence is little but a hollow vessel, ready to take in every passing thought and experience, envelop it, amplify it, imbue it with vibrant color and a great swirling energy, crystallize it and construct it as something new in my mind. It is an imitator, a mimic, it will replicate whatever it touches, and within this is a boundless world.


T4:00- A distinct stimulated psychedelic comedown has set in, a state I often find in the comedown of certain dissociatives where my thoughts flow like a bursting dam, where my curiosity drives me to ravenously consume as much text as I possibly can. This state presents with many drugs for me actually, most characteristically psychedelics but also cannabis, and as stated before, many different dissociatives. It is a distinct type of cognitive enhancement that seems common across all those classes where my pliable brain just demands more, more information, an endless trail of investigation towards a trivial tangent, a vicious desire to just know. It is always a pleasant surprise when I enter this familiar state. The subjects of my ravenous readings for the night are the history of Miami and the history of skyscrapers. Reading and reading and reading like a nerd. There are intermittent pleasant conversations with others as I do this, this is a compound that offers a great deal in the realms of sociability.


T5:00- I have passed through the veil of an altered lucidity to a state closer to baseline. There is a lingering sense of a heavy dissociation in the back of my head and a bit in my limbs, but it is a warm buzzing afterglow smoldering itself out. There is a lingering gentle stimulation like a neon sign in a vacant room. I am still getting visuals in the dark, distinct images of forms and patterns swirling and flowing in my periphery.


T6:00- Back to baseline by now.


Conclusion: It is tough to really characterize 3,4-MD-PCP, each of my trial with it offered something different. As far as commonalities go, I would say it is smooth, insightful, a bit manic, colorful, warm, euphoric, and sociable. It is a dizzy and functional dissociative, towing a line between being great for getting up and doing stuff while also being great for just lying in the dark. Perhaps its most remarkable feature is that it is so difficult to generalize- it is a truly amorphous compound that bent and molded itself around my brain, collecting and amplifying thoughts and emotions, its nature changing as my set and setting changed. It has promise of a true jack of all trades dissociative, versatile and enjoyable in a wide variety of settings, depending on dosage. Lower doses were fantastic for dancing and socializing, medium doses are great for being around close friends or playing video games, higher doses can be disorienting and incapacitating but can make it nice to just meditate and listen to music. There is a lot of potential here! Dosage seems to correlate with duration, with higher doses having a significantly longer peak and comedown. Any dose offers a pleasant afterglow even after the other effects have faded.

The physical dissociation is present but not overwhelmingly heavy or incapacitating. At times I felt immaculately in control of my muscles and my body, almost superhuman. It is great for dancing. The sense of dissociation is one of steady immersion, there is no rush or stimulating push in my nerves, though I would say this drug is quite stimulating relative to dissociatives like ketamine or DCK, though it is a neutral, background stimulation, no force to it at all. The headspace is meditative and contemplative like a psychedelic, and can turn into a tranquil stillness when occupied with over activities. There is a warm euphoria throughout. Visual effects are present but not particularly remarkable, the same drifting patterns and textures that other dissociatives seem to offer. With my eyes closed, the visual space in the darkness was vague and nondescript, as if the drug was telling me to stop lying around and enjoy the world around me. This drug has a sense of interactivity and immersion, as though it is a presence that will bend to the thoughts and emotions of the user, twisting and twirling around them and shifting to fit whatever the mood and atmosphere may be. It is truly a fascinating dissociative, even if it may not be to the liking of all people or fill the roles they desire, it can perhaps be molded to whatever function a person may need, and ultimately it is an extremely interesting novelty to explore!


Sunday, October 31, 2021


Sorry for the long post, I am processing something whats been an extremely traumatic 2 weeks since we took this drug. I could find nothing about it online. I was told people here might be able to help figure out what’s going on here my friend is in the hospital with a horrifying self-inflicted injury a month later and me and the rest of us feel like we’re going insane since we took it too. The last part is gross and gory I’m sorry but Im the one who had to see it.

For some background I’m 24 dabbled in drugs for a while, smoked weed a long time, did a lot of DXM and DPH in high school, tried LSD shrooms and molly back then too and loved it. Made a friend in college who introduced me to rcs - he knew everything about them and would buy them online. Ended up moving in with him and some of his friends who also loved them my second year. Lots of good times taking them together, things like 4-AcO-DMT, 2C-B, DCK, MAL, 1P-LSD, 4-HO-MiPT, a bunch more whos names I can’t remember, one roommate sold weed and ketamine too so we were living it up all the time. In this story my friend is E, my other roommates are J and S.

So E tells me hes been talking to this guy online who synthesizes his own drugs in some shady basement lab. He makes things like DMT and molly and some other psychedelics I haven’t heard of that E said were all super legit and that some of what we had tried together before actually came from this guy. He said the guy made a new one that had never been made before that was unlike anything else he’d tried, it was supposed to be some kind of psychedelic, he was super excited.

The day comes, the package arrives, we decide to dive right in. It comes as a bag with some molecule drawn on it, theres a picture of the bag at the bottom. it was a tan powder and the bottom said ADBZL-ZC-P. E knows his shit with molecules and stuff and he said it looked like nothing he’d seen before but was still excited to try. He said whoever sent it had already tried it a bunch and said a dose was about 25 mg. When the weekend rolled around we all made plans to try this together, E weighed our doses out but weighed a little more for himself.

The experience was a lot of fun at first, it felt like other psychedelics I had taken there were colors and beautiful patterns on the walls. The headspace felt like a psychedelic, but my brain felt slower and kinda foggy and out of balance, like I was definitely fucked up on something. There was something that felt strange though, I don’t know how to describe it. Its like how you know someone is standing right behind you even if you cant see them but you know that its there or like you know you’re being watched, something was making me really nervous. I asked my friends about this and they said the same but we thought nothing of it. We just hung out and watched nature documentaries and rick and morty for a while like we usually do. After about 6 hours though, we were all still tripping really hard and starting to get worried, we were still fully in the peak. E randomly started crying before running off to shut himself in his room. We looked up ways to make it stop but didn’t have anything on hand. The visuals were changing at this point, it was less like patterns and more like big blocks and blobs of color sitting in one spot. I started seeing movements in the corner of my vision that reminded me of doing DPH back in high school. S and J started noticing it too. J had sworn he saw someone out the window just standing there on the sidewalk staring into our house. S had gone to the bathroom to throw up. I look out the widow and see something too, it looks like a person standing there but it quickly runs away and disappears when I look. Suddenly my blood just runs cold, I feel such a sense of dread. I turn to J and he turns to me at the same time like he felt it too. S comes out of the bathroom and just starts sobbing. The visuals start to look like wet black hair smeared all over the walls. There are dark spots in all of the corners that seem to move and shudder. At this point we’re all scared and confused and huddled on the couch together. What’s weird is that this wasn’t like when I used to take DPH where I was forgetful and confused, we all felt lucid enough to talk to each other. Also weird is we all had the same visuals, they also saw the same hair on the same walls, shadow people lurking in the same spots and dashing out of view. We begin hearing things that sound like tapping on the walls and floors its all really creepy. We check on E and he’s just curled in a ball on his bed still crying, we try to talk to him but he won’t respond. We wonder if we should call 911 or something.

Maybe like 10 hours after we dosed though it feels like its starting to wind down and we’re coming down, much to our relief. We feel less messed up and the visuals become more faint. E seems like he had fallen asleep by now. Then something really weird happens, the mail slot makes a noise making us all jump and a piece of paper passes through. It’s 2 AM now so this is really weird and really scary. Before we can look at it, we hear E jump out of bed and RUN to the front door like his life depends on it to pick it up. He looks at it and screams NO and then collapses to the ground sobbing again. The paper is dirty and beat up and has a bunch of weird symbols and scribbles drawn on it, but we just think its someone fucking with us and E is still on drugs because he took more. Then around 3 AM there is a very loud knock on the door like it’s the police, we all panic but nothing happens and it doesn’t lock again. I look out the peephole and see nothing, its probably just someone fucking with us. We end up all going to bed.

The next day we all feel off, everyone sleeps in pretty late but we still don’t see E. We talk about what we experienced and how fucked up and uncomfortable and creepy it was but we just figure not every drug will be nice. At about 6 PM E finally comes out of his room, he looks pale and messy and is just moving very slowly. When we try to talk to him all we can get is just a mutter or “yeah” or “huh”, he makes a bowl of cereal for himself and eats it and goes back to his room. We just figure he’s more fucked up since he took more but he’ll be fine.

The last 2 weeks since then have been an absolute nightmare that I cannot explain. Later that night another weird piece of paper was passed through our mail slot. It also had scribbles and symbols on it. This would continue all times of day, we would get more and more of these. They were all different but all of them shared one symbol, a hexagon with an X through it, a big scribble in the middle and two scribbles above, almost like a face (I included a picture of them). We started getting more knocking on the door at very weird hours, aggressive pounding late at night, and every time nothing was there. All of us have been seeing figures standing in the distance outside our windows or in the distance when we’re outside that seem to be staring at us, they look human but they always seem blurry. Little black scorch marks or something started appearing on the wood on the outside of our house. E became a complete recluse, only leaving his room to eat or go to the bathroom. He stopped going to classes and he’s estranged from his family for the drug stuff so we’re the only ones really checking on him. There was one night where we heard him shouting wildly, it was mostly incoherent but there were bits I could make out about “they see us” and “its happening”. We grabbed him and calmed him down and he just collapsed and fell asleep. After a few days, people stopped talking to all of us, friends and family we reach out to just don’t respond anymore, when we talk to others in person they seem nervous and try to get away as soon as possible even though I’m sure none of us have been doing or saying anything weird. We didn’t even tell anyone about what happened with the drug or anything. All we have is each other, and S and J have been getting noticeably more depressed and detached. All the while the knocking continues and the notes are piling up, we’ve camped out at the window and the door for shifts to try and see who is doing this or stop them but if we do, nothing happens and whenever we go away or stop it just happens again we can’t just stay on top of this 24/7.

3 days ago things got much much worse. Most days when I come back from class I go and check on E, just pop his door open and say hi. He never wants to talk or anything and is usually sleeping, I know he’s more fucked up because he took a higher dose but he’s still eating and all. Maybe I’ve fucked up by not taking him to a hospital or a psych ward but I don’t even know what I’d say like this whole time I was just hoping it would wear off or he would snap out of it eventually. None of his other friends or professors or anything have reached out to us about it or anything which has also been weird.

This time was the worst thing I have ever seen though. E was kneeling on the floor with his left arm on the bed. He turned to me and smiled for the first time I’ve seen him smile in weeks but it was an unnerving toothy grin. There was blood everywhere. I shouted WHAT THE FUCK before I took a closer look- his hand was laid out on the bed and it had been perfectly disassembled. Like the bones were all laid out neatly on the bed separate from each other in the shape of a hand, all of the muscles and tendons and other stuff had been neatly separated from each other and laid out straight in strips, but what fucked me up the most was the big blood vessels were fully intact, laid out in a radiating pattern with all their branches and bends completely intact like he had just gently pulled them out of his body. The skin had been neatly peeled back and was dangling off to the side. “They’re going to need this” he said to me in his normal voice, the first full sentence I had heard from him for weeks. There were no knives or tools or anything lying around (and he was left handed??) I have no idea how this happened. I fucking puked on the spot and called 911. I didn’t tell the paramedics about any of the drug stuff just that he had some mental problems. I just ran out of the house after that.

I haven’t been back to the house since then. I’ve been sleeping on benches and using the school computers. I have no idea where J and S are and they haven’t reached out to me or responded to any messages I send to them. None of my family has been responding to my texts or calls. When I walk around in public I feel like I’m invisible, people don’t notice me or acknowledge me, when I buy food the clerk will never look up at my face. I’ve been seeing more of those blurry figures just standing there, staring and not moving, at all times of day. I walk by scraps of litter on the street that have the symbol and scribbles drawn on them. I don’t know what to do, my whole life is falling apart and I don’t know who to talk to or where to go for help, I’m hoping someone here might have an answer, help, please.

Here is the bag with the molecule on it:

Here is 3 of the notes:



So you may have seen this on reddit :p I love horror I loved creepypasta so much as a teen and always wanted to write my own. I figured I should write what I know and make something within a niche of my knowledge

Most people weren't fooled which is cool I had to put a classic unbelievable shocking creepypasta hook in at the end, I couldn't help myself! To the well meaning people who genuinely offered advice in the comments or suspended their disbelief I am sorry for pranking you! Your hearts are in the right place ~

Shoutout to people who recognized how extensively fucked up the molecule I made was .I thought to myself "what is the most cursed molecule I can create" and rendered this abomination, hackling together a BZ derivative with a 2C-P NBOMe and an adamantane to boot. It was supposed to be ADBZL-2C-P but my handwriting is so bad that it looked like a Z so I just rolled with it. Name sounds like a synth noid really. Doubt this would be stable or active in any form and it may possibly be toxic? Didn't even bother to run it through STP lol. Just by sheer coincidence searching the name of the drug in google brings about some weird results, something I didn't even realize until after posting. Really added a lot to the story and to the mystique!

Anyways, I hope I didn't give anyone bad vibes. Apologies for pulling a hoax and for any undue fear it may have caused. If a mysterious molecule comes in from a mysterious internet vendor and it looks cursed like this maybe don't ingest it (the powder in the bag is just galangal powder + powder sugar lol).

Happy Halloween!

Here is the original post in situ:

Here is a an archived snapshot in case it gets deleted by mods again lol:

And here it is with old reddit:

Thursday, September 16, 2021


 Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 35 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: The house where I grew up


Preface: 4-HO-PiPT is pretty straightforward as far as tryptamines go and was probably an inevitable development. Propyl groups have been paired with Methyl, Ethyl, and other Propyl groups. (MPT, EPT, and DPT respectively). Isopropyl groups have also been paired with Methyl, Ethyl, and other Isopropyl groups (MiPT, the elusive EiPT, and DiPT). It was a matter of time before they would get matched with each other, yielding PiPT. PiPT, 4-HO-PiPT, and 5-MeO-PiPT found their way onto the market at around the same time but commanded little interest and saw little use or demand. It was only recently that samples of them crossed my path.

The one I was most excited to try was 4-HO-PiPT. In any base tryptamine there’s a general pattern, where the base compound has an intense (and sometimes fairly mild) unique character, the 5-MeO analogue tends to be less visual and more intensive in the body, and the 4-HO/4-AcO analogue yields more of a well rounded visual and traditional psychedelic experience. So of course, in the name of seeking something satisfactory, I went for 4-HO-PiPT first.

The basics is that it was short and intense, confusing and hard to comprehend with a strong visual edge and bodyload. It was a strange and worthwhile experience though it did not particularly stand out among its other 4-substituted tryptamine compatriots. (For reference I have tried 4AcO/HO-MET, 4-AcO/HO-DET, 4-AcO-MPT, 4-HO/AcO-EPT, 4-AcO/HO-DPT, 4-HO/AcO/MeO-MiPT, 4-HO-DiPT, and 4-HO-MALT). Full report follows, tl;dr conclusion at the end.


T0:00- Dose taken on a mostly empty stomach.


T0:30- feeling a bit anxious and restless. There is an odd sense of flow and weight in my body almost like I have taken a dissociative, though it lacks in the analgesia and mental sense of dissociation. It's as if I'm made of a heavy syrup.

There is some abdominal discomfort now and I am starting to shake my limbs. I find it hard to sit still, there is a compulsion to stand up and pace around.


T0:50- There lot of swirling sickness, tension in my head tugging at my abdomen. It’s like the drug is plucking on my vagus nerve like a harpstring. Visuals arise suddenly with great intensity, building to a peak seemingly out of nowhere as discomfort continues to tremble its way up my limbs. My laptop screen is pulsing with bright concentric flashes in the dark of my room, iridescent like an oil slick on the night. Pareidolic forms emerge from the walls, great stoic, empty faces cast in a deep turquoise and violet glow, blank inhuman expressions of unfeeling colossi. Veins of neon flow between them. Each black word on the white screen ripples with concentric bands of dark and light colors. The nausea is at points overwhelming


T1:00- My enormous cat comes into the room, he runs right up to me and snuggles against me. He seems to be feeling very affectionate. He is huge and soft and his heavy breathing is soothing to the soul. His purrs murmur in the air, synesthetic vibrations of color buzzing above him like flies.

I am shaking a lot. This is all so so much more intense than I was expecting, the closed eyed visual space is absurd, cartoony, nonsensical and animated with waving, pulsing, dancing metallic forms with fields of tracers, swirling movement, cast in an orange backlight. Everything  is reverberating and repeating itself into a higher frequency, everything is accelerating exponentially within my skull. With my eyes open, there are mostly just contours and concentric forms adorning every surface and object, they are basic and matter-of-fact yet also vivid and intense. Some of the rings break off and bud and generate autonomous amorphous blobs that slowly drift around my field of vision like great psychedelic clouds. It’s hard to meditate on much or think about much, there isn’t a drive towards insight and introspection, it is mostly disorienting and confusing.

I try smoking a bit of cannabis to try and take the edge off of the nausea but I can’t kick it. Everything is in constant motion, like sitting in a little boat that is being tossed about like a vicious storm.

There is no euphoria, but there is a disquieting sense of presence. The experience is random and hard to comprehend but it feels intentional, like it is driven by the whims of some mad god. It is like sharing the room with a very large octopus that is staring right at me, there is intelligence and sentience there, but it is hidden under a veil of incomprehensible alien presence, a mind that has arisen from an entirely separate evolutionary lineage.


T1:20- My stomach still hurts a good bit. All I can really do is lie here and think about it. It’s hard to really think about anything else beyond my direct experience: the dizzying and spinning fantastic forms, the feelings of my body, my immediate surroundings as my senses can detect. I feel distant and detached. Nothing in the house feels like a worthwhile occupation of my time- perhaps going for a walk will stir something in this experience.


T1:30- It is twilight, the sky glows a distant blue as the velvety night descends on the world. A mist hangs in the air, glowing in the last vestiges of sunlight, glowing with the beaming streetlights and houselights that begin to flicker on. The mist swirls and pulses around me, great concentric and contoured spheres rippled in chromatic iridescence.

There was little fear or consternation in leaving the comfort of the house to be exposed in public. Hardly anyone is out and about. I am cast with a grave indifference anyways, my head is too dissociated and spun out to worry about things or feel any stake in any sort of anxiety.

The night is quiet but for a chorus of crickets. The same trees are cast over the same night sky I grew up with. Where I once ran under their branches and picked up fallen sticks and swung them around I now nervously pace, the world rippling as I pass. I walk the same route I would take to elementary school from my house every day. Well into my adulthood I could cut through my old school to avoid the winding suburban roads around it, but to my dismay I find the whole school has been locked down, with a high fence and a sturdy gate. I guess I can’t go back. This is a striking thing to see but I don’t dwell on it, all I can do is keep moving. What is the point of thinking even? Falling into thought is just not something that concerns me in this state. All I can do is walk, experience, observe: catching snippets of conversations from people out on their own properties on this still and luscious gorgeous night, working on a car in their driveway, having a bonfire in the yard, pulling up and unloading groceries, a whole world alive and in motion around me. A sense of wonder is generated from this, a sensation of being one marble rolling down a hill amongst a multitude of other balls and marbles and spheres, all with a certain undeniable destination, all not knowing what interactions, experiences, collisions and separations will happen between each other as they face the unstoppable force of gravity.

T2:00- The land heaves a sigh. I walk to a park a few train stops down from my house and sit on a bench. It’s a cool night in the late summer so the night sounds are mostly just simple bush and field crickets. It’s a peaceful lullaby. It feels nice to sit still. There is no compulsion to move, there is little energy in my limbs, but there isn’t much compulsion to sit still either. I am content to just be here, experiencing this night, the sounds, the smells, the glistening taste of the humid air as a furious summer recedes. I am surrounded by darkness, but the visual effects that so flourished in the shadows have also for the most part receded. I am definitely more lucid now, my mind is taken into strings of thought and ponderance rather than the scrambled confusion it had to bear before. It feels nice to settle back into myself, this is a pleasant afterglow. I get a surprise phone call from someone who would not be pleased about me being on drugs, but I keep my composure and manage to sound sober through the phone. I feel sober too, I really don’t feel too far off baseline, this was such a brief experience. I wish I had people to interact with, even strangers to strike up friendly conversation with, but the streets are deserted and the only people I see seem engrossed in their tasks and probably don’t want to be disturbed.

As the drug recedes and coherency returns I feel haughty and arrogant. I want to present myself, display myself, show myself to the world, this self that I have spent a lifetime carefully crafting and assembling and patching together, an uncoordinated mishmash with no discernible core. But it can look pretty at the very least. But alas, there is no one, there is nothing, there is just me and the night and the trees, the lights of the town as I walk down the main street, families and bar regulars loitering on the sidewalks, indeed they are people but in this state they feel like set pieces, something to be ignored as they won’t feed into my solipsistic arrogance. What a dreadful person to be! Perhaps it’s good that I don’t have anyone to talk to right now, I would make a fool of myself. I need to check myself. I should just go home.


T2:50- Return home, I am almost back to baseline save for some residual stimulation and discomfort. This was a disorienting fireworks show, I am not sure if I gained anything meaningful from the last few hours though it was distinctly jarring. I idle around my house for a few hours, the comedown is a long and slow and steady plateau, the last echoes of such a lively and vibrant peak.


T5:00- Entirely back to baseline


Conclusion: 4-HO-PiPT was oddly intense in some respects, mild in others. The visual space was an explosion of forms and energy, great iridescent blue ripples with my eyes open and a world of vibrant metallic glowing forms, twisting and dancing with my eyes closed. It was overwhelming at points and made me content to be alone in my room for the peak. The headspace is odd- for the most part disorienting and confusing. There felt little space to ponder or introspect, I was taken by the sensory overload and was left in an empty daze. As the experience receded this was replaced by a pleasant mindfulness, a compulsion to be present and really only consider my immediate surroundings and circumstances. Perhaps this phase of the experience could be of some value, though the peak was incomprehensible and offered little beyond novelty. The sheer alien-ness of the experience allayed a lot of potential anxiety and hesitation, it was very easy to merely exist and be content with that fact, along for a ride in which I felt I had little control. Surrendering to the experience felt like the right thing to do. The bodyload was heavy and unpleasant, particularly in a weighted nausea that persisted for most of the experience. It was remarkably short in duration, reaching the peak in under an hour and passing into the comedown just about 30-40 minutes after that. The comedown was a steady and lucid plateau with pleasant emotional effects. I was able to easily exist in public by that point. It is hard to draw comparisons to other tryptamines, it was perhaps reminiscent of the 4-substituted DET analogues, in its short lasting and fiery intensity, the visuals were reminiscent of 4-HO-DiPT, and the gleefully esoteric headspace at times reminded me of DPT. But those are null comparisons if one hasn’t tried those drugs, ultimately it is a unique compound of its own, an interesting novelty that burns short and hot and bright and dazzles the brain.

Sunday, August 29, 2021


Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 225 µg sublingual

Setting: The house where I grew up



*The preface is some background on the compound with an unfortunate amount of chemistry jargon. You can definitely skip it to just go to the report if the background is not of interest to you. Everything is summarized in a tl;dr summary in the end*

 1V-LSD, also dubbed “Valerie” was debuted on the coattails of a German ban on novel psychoactive substances. The design of 1V-LSD exploits a loophole in the law (which I will not detail here), making the structure not explicitly illegal in consumer markets across the world, particularly in Germany, which has a generous portion of European research chemical consumers. The name comes from the 5-chain carbonyl group on N1, sometimes also referred to as a “Valeroyl” group.

Structurally, 1V-LSD is yet another N1-carbonyl-substituted lysergamide, meaning it has the structure of LSD but some sort of carbonyl group is attached to the nitrogen in the 1 position. There are several drugs like this already on the market, like 1F-LSD, ALD-52, 1P-LSD, 1B-LSD and 1cP-LSD, and they all have something in common. There is robust evidence that one of these compounds, 1P-LSD, is a prodrug for LSD, meaning the user consumes the analogue, their body transforms the analogue into LSD, and that LSD goes to the brain. While not fully confirmed, it can be safely assumed that this same process occurs with the rest of the N-1-substituted lysergamides. In simpler words- if you attach the right molecule to the N-1 position of an LSD molecule, your body will snip that off and send regular LSD to your brain.

This offers an experience supposedly similar to that of LSD, but starting with an unscheduled analogue. There is heated debate as to whether all of these 1-substituted prodrugs simply offer a standard LSD experience or if they have a character of their own. The influence of set and setting further confound any attempts to consistently characterize this. I believe that the series of 1-substituted lysergamides do indeed offer unique experiences and have a unique character- perhaps through a sort of incomplete metabolism, but that is purely subjective anecdotal conjecture. Further rigorous study in this area is necessary.

Otherwise, these 1-substituted LSD prodrugs do clearly differ in potency, likely owing to pharmacokinetics. All are less potent than LSD. There seems to be no clear pattern in how extending the carbonyl chain affects potency, with potency varying wildly across 1,2,3,4, and now 5 carbon chains. I found 1V-LSD to be remarkably potent, befuddling any pattern that could be observed (the 3-carbon chain nears LSD in potency, the 4 Carbon chain sees a sharp potency drop- makes little sense!)

It is also worth mentioning that a sample labeled as “1V-LSD” was sent to a third party testing service in Europe which detected the cathinone A-D2PV in addition to unknown compound. As far as I know there is only one commercial supplier of 1V-LSD. However the sample submitted was in the form of powder, and this supplier does not offer powder, further confusing the situation. Nevertheless, I still decided to take the risk of ingesting my sample, which had already been laid onto blotter, at 150 µg apiece. It’s worth nothing that A-D2PV is nowhere near potent enough to reach a threshold dosage on blotter, and even if it was a contaminant in this sample, the amount I would be ingesting would not be enough to trigger any detectable effects.

As mentioned before, the potency of 1V-LSD really stood out to me. This was unexpected among the field of other N1-substituted lysergamides. I would even dare to say its potency comes close to that of actual LSD, assuming the product was properly dosed.

My experience was visual, dreamy, contemplative and gentle, though there was always a pervasive intensity lurking beneath. I had a delightful experience even though I didn’t do very much or engage in any particularly exciting activities. It was an excellent drug for being confined to a comfortable space, a wonder for contemplating a sanctuary, it had emotional depth and insight that made me content to just sit in the dark and think. Visuals formed organically from surfaces I cast my eyes upon, they were vivid and pleasant. The full report follows.


T0:00- Dose taken. I am in the house where I grew up, completely alone save for my cat. It is a warm late-summer afternoon.


T0:30- Nothing to note but some abdominal discomfort.


T0:45- Effects developing in a typical psychedelic comeup, shaking a lot, a bit of nausea and discomfort.


T0:50- At this point the experience is mostly stimulation. My limbs are shaking, a distinct sense of buzzing and high frequency vibration starts to work its way through my body, somewhat pleasant relative to the other physical effects raging through me right now. Visuals begin to become apparent, gentle drifting textures on rough surfaces.


T1:15- Effects feel as though they are cresting and crashing over, glistening tracers follow my every movement, blurring my field of vision with buzzing neon outlines that reverberate into disintegration. The visual intensity has welled up so suddenly that I almost forget my discomforts. Everything shakes and wobbles as beams of light trace their way across every edge and vertex and line in my sight like fluorescent veins or vines pulsing and breathing to intensify their grip my surroundings, gently and amiably. Patterns start to form on the walls, infinite reliefs reminiscent of Mesoamerican art, twisting and interlocking and fringed by a gentle green and pink glow that ripples through space. I am encased in a heavenly amethyst temple. There is a density to the visuals like the world sags under the weight of their fervor. It is an ocean swirling with life, every cubic centimeter packed with bustling psychedelic plankton swirling and weaving among each other in dense blocks of patterned, all-consuming life force from the violet core of the earth.

I sit back and close my eyes, I am immersed in a vast empire of forms, of visuals-towering pyramids twisting and tessellating and interlocking, concentric rings of color pulsing down their faces, great writhing undulating faunal automata as a backdrop, their edges blossoming into impossible interlocking fractals that swirl and twist In unison with their writhing cores. Not truly alive but automata in organic motion, per Conway’s Game of Life, all moving and interacting to the boundaries of their mathematic predestinies. Their timeless dance adorned by scaled, radiating patterns, repeating themselves off into a golden glowing infinity, all bubbling and swirling and coalescing, forming and adapting around the random bits of chaos that bubble up to disrupt the consistent patterns. This space is vast, fascinating, intricate, and engrossing. I find it hard to pull myself away from this expansive ecosystem of twisting inanimate visual monuments turning and throbbing against one another. These great pillars, radiating glassy energy, tensing their sinew as they wrap and twist and clutch and bend, a tense, undulating ballet of deep amethystine and chalcedonous forms, rippling with vitreous bands. The detail, the perfect placement of every single element, the seemingly cosmic harmony of these interacting forms is sublime, it fills my core with golden light to see such perfect balance maintained in perpetual motion. I am engrossed, I am mesmerized, I wish I could sit and watch this masterpiece of geometric interactions for an eternity- there are always more intricate fractal boundaries being drawn between forms, there are always more little automata arising and surviving in this intricate garden of perpetually self-transforming forms. I am absolutely enraptured. Radiating palmettos flash to the apices of everything like fireworks or corona discharge crackling into the air. Deep, sublime beauty.


T1:30- I am just flopping around in my bed, relinquishing myself to the steady deluge of deep violet and teal visuals that carry my essence along, abstract glowing forms bobbing in the water as the ceiling ripples overhead. My beloved cat comes to say hello- I could not be more excited.

We adopted this cat in high school after my first major episode with mental illness. It was a kind gesture, a vain attempt to get me to stop harming myself. My parents didn’t think that my idea to name the cat “Stripes” was very funny, so he took another name. My depression didn’t go away and neither did the self-harm, But now at least I could share my space with an adorable, clever, affectionate creature who I loved dearly. That was 7 years ago. He is much larger now, feisty, chatty, assertive and overall, very large and goofy. I feel sad that I have spent so much time apart from him after moving off to college and growing into adulthood. I hope he remembers me and likes me. I am grateful we can share this time together.

He jumps up on the bed and snuggles up with me, I love him so dearly and he is being incredibly affectionate, forcing himself to be as close to me as possible. I give him belly rubs, chin scritches, scritches behind the ears, all of his favorites. He looks at me with those big sweet grey inquisitive eyes.

His stripey tail swishes and I see steady bands of pink and blue and violet and green tracers follow suit. I can see flits and glimmers of visuals appear around his head, little neon flutters and faint colored forms twisting upwards into the darkness like incense smoke. It is like his head is surrounded by little dancing sprites, a celebration of his calm, confused benevolence. I hug him tightly and feel the rapids of energy ring around us in the air above, glistening in a pale orange and cascading iridescent gossamer scale upon us. This is the place to be, curled up with my dear friend, under a steady downpour of illusory neon flower pedals, our breaths in unison as a peaceful aurora flutters gracefully around us and our bond.


T2:00- The room is dim now as the sun sinks in the sky. In the dark places are forming 3-dimensional polyhedra, extending and receding into the surfaces on which they form. I am entranced with this, pulled into a daze in whatever new and exciting way the experience catches my attention.

There is a benevolent sense of presence, a warm and comforting light glowing behind the visuals, a friendly sort of backlighting. I am still a bit nauseous and smoke a bit of cannabis to settle my stomach.

The experience is intense and profound, even in the darkness and silence I feel like my time is fulfilled just through depth and detail of thought, though I frankly have nothing in particular to engage with that would make this feel even more worthwhile.


T2:20- I have now just been pacing around the house. I spent the majority of my life in this house but it has been altered and reshaped to be near unrecognizable to me. This is still the physical space in which I grew up, it is still the same walls, the same layout, some of the same furniture, but it’s entirely different, it’s near incomprehensible. The rooms where I slept and lived in my childhood converted into utility spaces, the space rearranged so that it no longer needed to cater to a family. All the past and life I had spent here was a ghost, sculpted only from what memories I could still cling to. I could never go back. No one can ever go back to that sense of wonder they have as a child, no one can ever recreate just how big the spaces they experienced in their formative years felt, no one can ever undo how small these spaces are as a lumbering adult. I am pacing around, visiting dark empty rooms time and time again, angling for memories, angling for some connection to my past self, but they aren’t there. It’s all buried, hidden, lost to history. I am unanchored and adrift.

The visuals still rage like a pounding thunderstorm, crests and surges of effects washing over me, the sweet waters drawing into my mouth and swirling around my head. I feel like I am treading water in a vast sea, the undulating waves stained a triumphant violet by the fires of the setting sun, there is glistening beauty in each cap and ripple, and endless swallowing unknowing and loss on all sides of me, inevitably pulling me under. It is hard to read at times, there are ripples and stripes around the letters on me screen, familiar characters altering into strange glyphs that camp at some uncanny valley of hardly discernible language.


T4:00- I go out and sit on the porch in the blue hour of dusk. Lights flicker on one by one as the night takes the earth. The sound of cicadas is deafening, a pulsing wall of sound signaling summer’s retreat. It is peaceful here, I am on the porch but I am still wary of neighbors like a nervous animal ready to dash into its burrow at the slightest disturbance. I close my eyes and lose myself to the reverberation of hordes of great insects stridulating for a mate, I find myself immersed in a vast synesthetic space of great violet cascades and curtains waving and pouring down, coming from nothing, flowing to nothing. I open my eyes and the world heaves and recedes in great breaths, swirling and twisting and flowing at its extremities, illusory technicolor winds smearing my vision about.

I feel aimless and purposeless, but I am mostly at peace with that. I have nothing to do tonight. Nothing to engage with, no one to interact with, nowhere to go and nowhere to be. I am excited at the privilege of being able to sample this novel compound and have this novel experience but that is about all the fulfillment I can get. Perhaps my old depression is just creeping in again. I feel too anxious and altered to go out and possibly be in public, the porch is the extent of exposure I’m willing to risk. I resign myself to just be comfortable, familiar, to just pace the house and exist here. There’s nothing wrong with merely existing.


T4:45- I haven’t eaten much today but I don’t feel any sense of hunger. I would say I am starting to come down now, the headspace feels lighter and less demanding. There are still intense flashes of visuals, patterns crawling across the walls and reflecting their iridescence at me. They are pleasant and welcome. I pace the house trying to find some meaningful way to occupy my time and space.


T5:20- I pick a random movie on Netflix- a 3 hour long historical epic called “Saladin the Victorious”, made in Egypt in 1963. The film is in Arabic and the voices seem to be dubbed over. They are strange to me, the spoken words seemingly coming from all around me rather than from the people speaking them. It’s a curious effect. The cinematography is beautiful, the colors are vibrant and saturated and the scale is grand and momentuous. It came from Egypt in the 1960’s, with a tale of uniting the Arab people to drive out Westerners from the Levant. The allegory and moralization is heavy handed but it’s a fun way to pack away 3 hours. I smoke some more cannabis to try and work up an appetite but it doesn’t do much. I am definitely on the downward slope of the experience and I feel like I am becoming more lucid by the minute.


T6:30- The movie still goes on. It’s very long and I take breaks to go the bathroom or get water. I have climbed down from the peak substantially now, though the experience still rages.

T7:00- A headache is setting in. Still riding a long, slow descent.


T8:40 The movie has ended, I feel like I am mostly back to baseline save for a stimulated afterglow. The ship has for the most part sailed. I am left in the dark alone with my thoughts, which still flow steadily and uninhibited. I am mostly enraptured with thoughts of how much my social connections have withered, how I have failed to cultivate so many of my relationships and how I have put so little into them and how they have faded to nothing. I have lost so many friends to simple indifference and inactivity. I don’t have the energy or motivation to maintain relationships, I am mostly concerned with just being alone and getting high. There are so many people I love who I fail to express that to. I am not sure what brought about this line of thought but this is certainly a substance for ruminating and drawing out ideas and patterns. I am grateful for the people I have managed to keep in my life despite being aloof and avoidant and reclusive. Oh well.


T10:30- Back to baseline now.



The saga continues of developing a steadily growing chain of carbons to affix to the N-1 position of the LSD molecule. Now we are out to 5 carbons, so what does this mean?

The whole debate about prodrugs aside I will describe the experience as thus:

It was a drawn out lysergamide experience, dominated by cool colors, deep violets and teals and blues like the depths of the ocean. I was prone to pondering, contemplating, I found myself mostly just wanting to turn inwards and think about myself and the reality contained within as opposed to interacting with the environment. The comeup was stimulating, but that gave way to a languid drowse, where I was content to just splay out on surfaces in the dark and just think about things. There was no motivation or impetus to go outside to get up or do any activity. I was adrift in a great violet pool and I could choose to swim in whichever direction I wanted, towards all varieties of vibrant prismatic shores. Or I could choose to just float in the swirling galactic abyss, a curtain of shimmering Tyrian Purple. There were no strong compulsions throughout the experience, I was content to be drawn into the interplay of the visual and cognitive space, to play amongst their cryptic gardens. Should I choose to feel more grounded, it was profound and introspective, perhaps touching a little too much upon my latent depressive tendencies. It was a vast amoeba, pouring the intensity of its amorphous mass where I directed it to. It was a good time for just siting and pondering.

Visually, there were typical lysergamides patterns, graceful yet rough-hewn reliefs forming on the walls reminiscent of Mesoamerican glyphs, twisting and intertwining in baths of color. Violets, magentas, streaks of electric green but mostly deep teals and great stormy oceanic blues dominated the visual space. Fronds, palmettos, interlocking and intertwining sinuous forms replete with ocular adornments dominated the visual space, cast against a backdrop of twisting telescoping fractal pyramids. I was absolutely entranced by the space revealed with eyes closed, an intricate ecosystem of self-transforming autonomous forms in constant swirling, tense undulating motion, like lovers gripped in ecstasy, like a densely packed swarm of animals moving in constrained unison. It was mesmerizing. Auditory effects mostly came as reverberations and dissociation from their source. It was hard to place where any sound was coming from.

Physical effects were typical amounts of lysergamides nausea, tension, and shaking, with a distinct and pleasant buzz through my bones. This mostly receded as the peak crested over.

Whether or not this is just another avenue to experience LSD or if it is something wholly of its own, I think it is a worthwhile novel compound to explore that offers insight, contemplation, and a gentle, deep intensity. A 225 µg dose is substantial to reveal the character of this compound.

Sunday, August 22, 2021


Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 65 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: At my house


Preface: MiPT can fall into 2 categories- it is a base tryptamine, that is, a tryptamine without any additional molecules attached to the base indole rings. These chemicals, like DMT, DET, MET, DPT, DiPT, etc. often show low oral bioavailability and are usually not very potent via that route. Each has in common the property of being exquisitely unique- from the strange extraterrestrial energy of DPT, to the unique auditory effects of DiPT to the wondrous fantasy of MET.

It is also the base structure for the MiPT family, a group for which it should share some properties. I have previously consumed and reported on all of the other variations on MiPT- 4-HO-MiPT, 4-AcO-MiPT, 4-MeO-MiPT, and 5-MeO-MiPT. These chemicals were for the most part, sardonic and inquisitive in nature, dark and neutral but with powerful upwellings of delight and intrigue. 4-HO-MiPT and 4-AcO-MiPT are some of my favorite psychedelics. I was curious to finally sample the progenitor of all of these other chemicals.


T0:00- Dose taken. My partner is out on a date and I have the house to myself for the night.

I need to run out and pick up ginger for the anticipated nausea. I quickly run to a nearby grocery store and try to outrun the coming effects of the drug. It seems to be rush hour and the whole place is buzzing with an anxious crowd. Someone with a crowded cart graciously lets me pass him in line. Another customer picks a fight with a cashier. Something may be creeping up already.


T0:30- First definite notes, a bit of discomfort in my abdomen and a general sense of tension and spaciness in my head.


T0:45- Shaking a lot, punishing bouts of nausea, I am very uncomfortable. That’s it for now really.


T0:56- I am feeling so sick but it’s okay, I am at peace with it. There are glints and flashes of visuals but it is for the most part very subtle.


T1:05- I get up and pace around the house just to be doing something. There's an element of masochistic sardonic joviality, that there is some humor to be found in how much discomfort my body is experiencing. Why mope when I can just laugh at the absurdity of intentionally ingesting a compound that made me feel physically sick, one that I predicted would do so. I must seem so foolish. The sardonic cynical attitude of the headspace is heavily reminiscent of that given by 4-HO-MiPT and 4-AcO-MiPT, where I can’t help but smile at life’s disquieting absurdities. My whole field of vision is subtly flashing and strobing but overall open eyed visuals are lacking, meek and simple. There are really no specific or distinct forms to note. Textures are slightly drifting and zooming but there’s not much else to say beyond that.

I cut off a chunk of raw ginger and choke it down to settle my stomach a little. I also vaporize a small amount of THC oil to the same effect. The sickly humor is still there.

Sitting down, there is an almost dissociative quality to the experience, like I am stepping slightly outside of my body, though this too is a subtle and quiet phantom.


T1:30- Talking to Josie of PW fame about her psychometric projects. It feels nice to talk to someone, there is a sociable warmth to this, scant like the rest of the effects. I am not aggressively seeking out contact with people but I’m content to meander through words with people I was already talking to. My body seems to be plateauing and settling out and some of the bodyload seems to be on retreat. I stretch out on the couch and revel in this new comfort.

Based on my research I was expecting something more intense at this dose, though it seems that isn’t the case. Effects seem to be leveling out, there are no indications of growing intensity. The visuals are still barely discernible beyond my usual HPPD. I feel for the most part lucid.

I close my eyes to see if that offers a novel space to explore but there is little- a meaningless inane space of vague fractals swirling and forming together. There is some vague illumination off to the side. I feel like there isn’t much to see here and open my eyes again. A bit of a headache is setting in.


T2:30- Just found out a favorite comedian of mine, Trevor Moore, has unexpectedly passed away. I talk with my good friend about this, about our memories just tripping and getting stoned in our living rooms and marathoning Whitest Kids U’ Know sketches on Youtube for hours. It’s a heavy loss to us. I decide to yet again fall into a youtube rabbithole of watching WKUK sketches myself. Certain lines, expressions, affectation and subtleties really jump out at me, along with the acting and clever word craft. For all its lackluster intensity I think it’s a fine substance for analytical processing of stimuli, a good one for watching things. A psychedelic headspace is definitely there, one that draws my attention down whatever tangent it may catch, that pulls me into tunnels of thought and makes each moment stick deeper in my memory.


T3:15- While the entire experience has been quiet there definitely is a downturn in effects right now. Despite the earlier nausea, I have developed an appetite. I go to my kitchen and cook up a pot of brown saffron rice to go with a delicious Ratatouille my partner made earlier. Walking about the house and the kitchen feels floaty and dreamy and just boiling a small pot of rice feels like a fulfilling accomplishment relative to just sitting still doing nothing for the past few hours. There is a cryptic little pleasantry to this experience, while it wasn’t particularly exciting at the time all the little bits of pieces of the time I spent with this substance were warm and fond in my memory. There is something profound here but it is quiet and hidden. I eat my dinner in peace.


T4:30- I feel like I am pretty much back to baseline, just a bit of a buzz in my body and a sense of spaciness.


T5:00- Back to baseline.



MiPT is a subtle and quiet and interesting little thing that even at what seemed like a fairly high dose, didn’t offer much in the way of intensity. It felt like just above a threshold dose, though the bodyload suggested that I was to experience something more powerful. The headspace is pleasurable, warm, comfortable, and intriguing. It feels like it borders on the profound, though it was too faint and ethereal to truly grasp. Perhaps a higher dose for me may reveal what lies deeper in the reaches of this compound. Visual effects were near nonexistent, just subtle shifts in textures with eyes open and a few faint interlocking swirling forms with eye closed. Overall it made the act of just thinking and contemplating things to be pleasurable and fulfilling, even if I didn’t really do much during the experience or pick up on much thrill. I would say it was something novel, but it wasn’t an urgent or particularly engrossing or enriching experience. It carries the same sardonic spirit of 4-subbed MiPT compounds, a dull sense of nihilistic humor. It is at once dreamy and dissociative yet deeply grounded in the earth.