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.
