antlion

Tuesday, December 13, 2022

1D-LSD

 Age: 27

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 150 µg on tab, sublingual

Setting: Going for a long walk on a rainy but not too cold December day

 

Preface:
So the battle rages on, a 1-substituted LSD analogue is made, it is banned, another is made. The 1-site of the molecule has become contested territory. We have seen the whole host of compounds based on this theme: 1F-LSD, ALD-52, 1P-LSD, 1cP-LSD, 1B-LSD, 1V-LSD, they’ve all been wonderful and successful.

1-Substituted LSD analogues are well understood to be prodrugs of LSD, in other words, the compound that the user would obtain is a legal analogue of LSD, but upon ingestion, their body would convert it to LSD, yielding an LSD experience. While I have tried to nitpick the differences between them, ultimately I wonder if that can just be chalked to set and setting, as the same thing is happening pharmacologically in all cases. Any carbonyl alkane can be strapped into the 1- position. The human body cleaves that group off, leaving behind pure LSD to enter the brain. These carbonyl groups have grown bigger and bigger. The lysergamides are locked in an ever-turning wheel of combat with Germany’s Novel Psychoactive Substances law. It is an arms race where one substitution gets banned, only to be replaced with another larger substitution that circumvents whatever new stipulations the law puts in place. The latest competitor is 1D-LSD, the largest 1-substitution yet.

1D can mean a lot of things, but in this case it means 1-Dimethylcyclobutyl- an obscure moiety that has never been seen in a psychedelic before. It is a hefty cyclobutyl group with methyls on the 1 and 2 positions. It's such an odd structure that it is hard to describe, here is a pictureThis probably opens the door to switching those methyls around to wherever one pleases.  Just another entry in the endless game!

­Sadly, the lab producing these brilliant analogues ran into legal difficulties, jeopardizing the further development of this fascinating progression of 1-substituted lysergamides analogues. A safe supply of chemicals was cut off from the world at the behest of the long shadow of the American Drug war. A man sought to make psychedelics more accessible to those who would heal and benefit from them in the face of nonsensical laws, he pushed forward research on the metabolism and effects of different lysergamides, he only sought to expand our knowledge in so many different ways, and now he must suffer under the heel of the ever-stampeding drug war. What cruel times we live in. 1D-LSD may very well be a ghost of now bygone era as we sail warily into the new dark.

Nevertheless- This is an exciting drug. It is perhaps the most potent 1-substituted LSD analogue I have ingested. Assuming the tabs are indeed ~150 µg, this is a hefty experience, probably getting close to the potency of actual LSD. The experience is vast and extensive.

 

T0:00 – Dose taken at home. The tab has an uncharacteristically slight bitter taste. I am with a group of friends- J and C, my longest time partners in crime with whom I have taken many many different research chemicals. Joining us is E and M, who are just taking strong cannabis edibles. J opted for classic mushrooms this time, C wants to revisit his old favorite, 2C-B. Our plan is to just aimlessly walk around the city where we all live. It is a wet day, breezy but not too cold, sometimes the sun tears through the clouds as they rush past high in the sky. Our first stop is to see the campus of the college where we had all graduated and formed so many drug-fueled memories, now that we had been away for years. I am a bit anxious, but in high spirits from the previous night’s dissociative-fueled debauchery. C and M had slept over.

 

T0:20- Getting ready to leave the house- perhaps the first hints of an experience? Or maybe a bit of placebo.


T0:40- We are walking to the subway station, the first notes are more definite, warmth and a little bit of a buzz,


T0:50- I can really feel It start to hit me as we wait for the subway. It is raining on and off all day, water leaks down the walls and the tiles are slaked with wet grime. All around is cold metal and dirty air. I feel like a little wide-eyed creature of the tunnels. There is a familiar psychedelic sense of energy pulsing through my limbs, a detached awkwardness with my friends, a bit of nausea stirring in my gut. When I look at the subway tiles ornate paisley floral patterns start to form. I sit quietly, taking in the space of the sooty echoes and sounds of drips around me.



T1:00- I am on the subway now, I am confined and uncomfortable but I am amongst friends. I am definitely experiencing my experience the most intensely out of all of them for now. So much activity stirs around me, it all seems shifted out of order by the grey sky of the surface above. I just curl up in my seat and take in my surroundings.

The chromed metal all over catches the light around it, the drug in my brain catches this light and sets it into motion, a shimmering swirl of glints and shines and quicksilver swirls. Grainy two-dimensional floral patterns slowly crawl across the grimy floor. Everyone around me is pulsing with energy, like migraine auras hovering over their forms. The visuals are still pastel, translucent, only apparent upon focus. It’s hard for me to maintain conversation with my friends. Nausea gently wells through me; a warm tension rolls down my limbs. I can’t wait to be back outside.


T1:05- We get off of the subway, we are back in our old haunt- so many days spent confused, lost, miserable, arrogantly feeling like I had figured the world out already, heartbreak and a deep void of depression, drug fueled hedonism and precious time with friends and lovers- the day is plain and grey now. We break onto the surface and take stock of things- in just a few short years everything looks different, we hardly recognize our environs, no one is here because it is the weekend. The world is spinning and flowing around me like a great breeze swirling leaves around my form. I feel compelled to only walk forward, concentric forms start to crackle from the wet concrete buildings, there are jolts of electricity in my skull.  

T1:15- I sit down and the intensity sets in like a fogbank smothering a skyscraper. We are in the central square of campus, sitting, laughing, joking, reminiscing. The sky is grey above, stratus clouds sit in strips and stripes and blocky spiraling forms churn within these, like an abstracted freeform of the art of Mesoamerican indigenous peoples. They crackle with shy flashes of teal and pink, it all drifts and flows with weight and purpose. I stare at the ground and the concrete forms itself into fronds and spirals and swirls, bold lines and hard angles adorn in their spaces, slowly growing and blossoming. There is not much energy or restlessness or stimulation in the visuals or in my limbs, I am content to sit down, I feel like I am just basking in the experience like a sauna. It is hard to type notes, my fingers feel cold and tight, my skin looks magenta and traced with patterns of bars of color, my phone bends away from me. I would consider this a pretty intense experience. My thoughts are going everywhere, pursuing the depths of anything mentioned in passing. Every word generates a vivid image in my mind, to the detriment of actually understanding conversation. It still feels like it is building, I am still coming up.

 

T1:40- We walk through the neighborhood back to the old house where we all used to live at various points (I was the only constant). More than half of the reports I have written took place in this house. As I walk down the streets the clouds look ever so more energetic, like great creeping caravans of megafauna grazing their way across the sky. The late afternoon light catches the swirls of my visuals in all of its warmth and illuminates them, it is a glorious scene, I am with such nice friends, the day is being swept by gusts of euphoria. The world feels bent around me, like I am surrounded by a great crystalline wind that filters my perceptions into one of colors and motion. There is a spring in my step, a sense that the sky is a great glass dome above, we talk and joke, huddled up and impervious to the strangers walking around us.

The neighborhood looks completely different in the face of monolithic gentrification. I guess you can’t really go back. We post up outside our old house, we wonder who lives there now, I wonder what energies we had laid into the house. I try and project myself through time, imagine myself there so many times, on so many drugs, in so many emotional states, but I can’t, it doesn’t resonate, that part of my life is so far gone. It makes me sad to not be able to go back, even in this form, with my mind so raw and vulnerable, it makes me sad I cannot feel this space, that this is all it was, a physical structure of brick and wood and concrete, just like any other. I guess we didn’t leave any energy behind, just a mess of scavenged junk and animal bones and improvised weapons that were too difficult to move out. We sigh and decide to take a long walk back to my house. My emotions are raw and I feel sensitive, not in an anxious vulnerable way but in a way of comfort and acceptance in being among deeply familiar company. The intensity at last feels like it has reached its peak. I am immersed into this experience as fully as I can be. I can still walk, I feel functional, I feel nauseous and uncomfortable, and I realize I will be in motion for what is to be the most intense part of an already intense experience.



T2:00- Walking through the neighborhood, I have a destination in mind and I am navigating everybody there. I am still competent enough to do that least. I am flustered though, there is a great whirlwind around me in a million colors, my brain is cast about its currents and the world is buffered from me by a psychedelic haze. Little spots of visuals try and eke out an existence everywhere I look, eyespots with angular tendrils surrounding them, blossoming spiraling forms, adding chromatic traceries to the otherwise dulled greys of the day. I feel like I am 18 again. I try to take notes while walking, I’m walking very fast, it is very hard to type. My hands don’t’ look the shape they should, they don’t feel or move the way they should, it all feels like extra steps have been added to otherwise simple processes. I am content to let it overtake me and crawl about me, I am happy to submit myself to the drug in public, so long as I can still walk and appear normal. I take in so much of what is around me, my thoughts circle back on themselves, analyze themselves, leaving me in a half-attentive daze as I move. And yet so many beautiful things from the world stick out to me, one particular graffiti tag, the color of a car briefly contrasted with the bridge it drives under, a brief flare of music from another passing car, it is a world of ornate details and I am blessed to just walk by gathering theses sensations in my wake. Auditory effects are mostly nondescript- I feel often when I take psychedelics in public the ambient city noises around me will doppler and reverberate and echo, but I am not noticing much of that this time around.

Nausea wells up in my as I walk, I fight with all my might to hold it down. I am walking fast, not stopping, I feel like I am trying to outrun the full weight of this experience. I am talking with J a bit but I am mostly just in my public solitude, marveling at the swirling world before me, marveling at the patches of peach sunlight, the golden beams they cast down on the shimmering buildings below. The sky is still great glassy dome reflecting and refracting light in a perpetual dance down upon us. Everything is in its place, everything is as it should be and is altered as it needs to be, everything is beautiful. I am physically uncomfortable but enraptured in comfort. My friend remarks that the sky looks so weird today, in a poetic sense.

 

T2:30- We reach our next destination, a stretch of abandoned elevated rail line that is densely rusted and graffitied and overgrown, easily accessible through a hole in a fence near my old house. We slip in one by one and climb a steep hill of wet railroad ballast. Climbing through fences and up steep wet hills is betraying our age. We walk right through the living room of a homeless encampment but no one is home. Everything is damp and the sky is a great golden pink above, the filtered misty light carrying a gentle luminosity down to every slick wet surface. We laugh and joke as we walk the tracks, everyone is in high spirits, no one is really feeling their drugs other than the people who took edibles. I am having the most intense experience by far.
I sit down and the full weight of my rolling peak crashes down on me, greater than before. The distant sky is spirals tumbling into each other. The buildings around me shimmer into polychromatic ghost images. The plants shift and embrace and entwine around me, the ballast below my feet smears and shifts and bulges with tints of red and blue and green. I am dizzy and it feels like a great rainbow void in the sky above is swirling a funnel cloud vortex into my skull, in the most benign way that can happen. A shiver runs down my back, I am sweaty, my hands are clammy and angular polygons form and unform and drift faintly on my skin. The world is huge, the wind is beautiful and the buildings around me sigh and heave in gentle repose. This is wonderful.
I haven’t been talking much and when I do try to talk it is awkward, I am not too articulate and I have a hard time getting my thoughts across. I am usually quite articulate on psychedelics actually, so this impairment is a testament to the intensity of the experience. I am the de facto guide for this area since I’m the only one who has been here in recent memory, but I struggle to articulate directions to the rest of the group. We end up hanging around an abandoned substation for a bit, picking through the wet trash, loitering about on the rusty machinery, joking and chiding. I smoke a bit of cannabis. Everyone seems happy with where we are, I am happy with where we are.


T:245- We sit on a pile of railroad ties at the end of the line. We’re al laughing and joking now about God knows what. We’re all cracking up, I am laughing until tears are streaming down my face. Always such a good feeling on psychedelics, always glad to have humor in an experience. After this we set out, immersing ourselves in the city’s Chinatown. It is hectic and I have to push around the crowded sidewalks. All of the people I see around me look so odd in different ways in their various groups and social circles and gaggles, and I’m sure we look strange too. It feels like the experience has subdued itself so I can navigate this setting competently. We decide to stop by E’s house for a breather and just to check it out, since it’s right on the way back.


3:10- Being back inside is disorienting. I am sweating a lot. Colored patterns sear and pulse into every wall around me, steaming like they are being baked in, just raw crackling high heat psionic energy. Textures drift and move up and down the hallways. I am enthralled standing in the tiled elevator and staring at the swirling patterns on the floor. I lay down and let my pitiful muscles and bones rest. The apartment is cozy with a beautiful view north towards the city. I still feel like I am pretty reliably peaking. The quiet in the space is heavy and glowing, contrasted to the hustle and bustle and noise of the city outside. Every little thought I have I want to engage and examine and follow through to wherever it leads me, but I also just do not feel the energy for that. After catching our breath, we set out again.



3:20- Uh oh. E can’t find his keys. Me and C and M sit in the hallway outside the elevator while E and J look. The visuals sit heavy while I sit there still and quiet. The pattern on the carpet drifts and shifts, forms twirl and intertwine, splatters of color flash into the walls. I am filled with a sharp articulate euphoria, I can talk easier now and socialize better. There is still this innate sense of being where I need to be. After about 15 minutes of waiting we realize the situation may be more dire than we first thought- E’s keys are nowhere to be found. Him and J have searched the apartment up and down, in and on and under every surface, We all join the frantic search, searching the same places 5, 6 times. Brainstorming new places to look. It becomes an engaging activity for all, we interrogate this man like the police but it is to no avail. We eventually have to make the heartbreaking decision to leave him behind as he wouldn’t be able to get back into his apartment until Monday. Adding insult to injury, it is now pouring rain outside.

(E would find his keys in his trash the next day somehow)



T4:00- We set out to walk the rest of the way back to my house. Rain is coming down in curtains, the streets are aglow with neon lights and reflected puddles, bright lights illuminate the markets and storefronts as the rain cascades off their awnings in in glowing glassy beams. We are instantly soaked to the bone, we trudge forth, all we can do is laugh at how ridiculous our circumstances are, we lost a friend, we are soaked, what a bummer. The rain and the lights are beautiful in this state, but we are drowned rats. Our path is interrupted by a goddamn parade of all things, extremely bright lights catching the raindrops, marchers who seem unsure of whether to continue in the deluge, it is all such a surreal scene, a perfect compliment to the bizarre headspace I am inhabiting. It is all chaos and deluge and a storm of god tossing us about for heaven knows what incomprehensible prank. We just try to rush home.



T4:30- Back home, we are soaked to the bone. I quickly coordinate dry clothes and towels for my friends and a pile to dry their wet clothes. It feels nice to be competent and in control, to be a good host, to make my space hospitable. I am definitely much further down in my experience now. The room is stuffy and I throw the doors open to let in fresh cool air. After the whirlwind of activity and sweat and water and mess, it is blissful to be in my own home again, my two wily cats slinking around in their own ways, it’s a warm bustle of activity vibrating the room with orange energy. We loiter around and recover from our long walk. Another friend arrives.

 

T5:00- We smoke 2 joints in the back yard. I am down enough that this doesn’t stir the dust of the experience much. My spouse arrives home shortly after this. We lie around talking about our lives, Warhammer 40k lore, gentle and joking.


T7:00- Mostly down. My friends have all left.



T10:00- Feeling a residual euphoric glow in the absence of other effects. I am filled with adoration for my spouse. It is a pleasant and coherent headspace.

T12:00- Back to baseline.

 

Conclusion: 1D-LSD is another fine addition to the growing ledger of 1-substituted LSD analogues. This is by far the most potent 1-substituted LSD analogue I have tried. To answer the biggest questions- yes it will yield an experience similar to LSD, and the tabs dosed at 150 µg offer a substantial experience that is not to be taken lightly- in fact for the inexperienced I would recommend not even consuming an entire tab. It bore all the hallmarks of a lysergamide- patterned intentional visuals, teal-pink color schemes, a long duration with a drawn out euphoric stimulating afterglow, analytical, sentimental, profound and joyous headspace. This is certainly a compound that offers a worthwhile experience.

The global war on drugs cuts the head off of another hydra, and for now it seems the possibilities for 1-substituted carbonyl alkanes that metabolize into LSD are near endless- one simply needs to mix and match the carbons as they see fit. There seems to be no upper limit on bulk- in fact it seems bulk increases potency. To constant adaptation, and to freedom for friends near and far.

 

 

Thursday, December 8, 2022

POxP

 Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 350 mg oral

Setting: My house

 

POxP is a complete novelty that I had the pleasure of being one of the first people in history to try, with no prior documentation either in literature or in the realm of online research chemical users. POxP was a suggestion born out of the very similar PThP, which was mentioned in a bluelight thread where a user claimed to have seen the compound PThP mentioned as being active as an NMDA antagonist in an article published in the European Journal of Medical Chemistry. No one was able to recover this article, though the suggestion it bore- of an arylcyclohexylamine with the sulfur bearing 4-Thiane ring as opposed to the cyclohexane ring, was interesting. In psychoactive molecules, R-bonded oxygen can often be exchanged for a sulfur and retain activity, so it stands that an 4-Oxane ring would show similar activity.

Like PThP, POxP would not be an arylcyclohexylamine. Where PThP is an Arylthianylamine, POxP would be an Aryloxanylamine. Traditionally, with the arylcyclohexylamines, fundamental changes to the 6-carbon cyclohexane ring see a steep drop in activity- using a 5-carbon cyclopentane or 7-carbon cycloheptane ring makes a compound which is wholly inactive. However, its seems that swapping some of those carbons out for oxygen or sulfur is also tolerated- though there is a stark drop in activity, they certainly are still active to an appreciable degree. It seems that maintaining the approximate shape of the six member ring is key to conserving dissociative properties.

I first began to titrate doses up from .5 mg. I would later discover this is quite far off the mark! Pushing doses higher and higher, I would eventually only experience threshold effects at a dose of 150 mg orally. It did not appear to be active intranasally up to at least 100 mg, though I have not tried doses higher than that. Because the dose is so high I eventually ran out of my tester sample, and would have to wait several months for a new sample to arrive. When it had finally arrived, I immediately shot for a fairly high dose- 350 mg. This yielded an fascinating experience that perhaps shows interesting promise for this compound- underlying a brief but heavy and still dissociative experience was a stimulating empathogenic undercurrent, reminiscent of a cathinone and replete with all the social delight and euphoric energy of that class of compound. I think compounds with the oxane ring replacing the cyclohexane are definitely worth investigating further, perhaps modulated by substitutions or structural changes that may increase their potency or duration. An N-ethyl POxE for example, may by interesting. As would a structure with a 3-methyl substitution, or one with a thiophene instead of a phenyl ring.

The following report details an experience with 350 mg taken orally.

T0:00-Dose taken

 

T0:30- Onset, feleing a bit soft and Dizzy, like I am a floppy stuffed animal.

 

T1:00- Dissociation and dizziness builds. The stuffed animal grows ever softer and ever floppier.

 

T1:05- It suddenly hits like a tsunami, washing over me and disorienting me. I am taken aback by the sudden steep increase in effects. It literally hid mid-sentence. I was watching my fiancé play Katamari Damacy on our PS2 and was remarking on something when I just trailed off, whatever I was saying completely lost in my newfound mental state. The predominant feature of this dissociation is dizziness and softness. No rush, no stimulation, not much sense of motion or weight, just soft and dizzy. It is pleasant and relaxing and gentle; it is that feeling of immersion into a still pool despite the sudden spike in intensity. I feel as though I may be levitating. I am a little bit nauseous, though it feels like it may be along the lines of a dizzy motion sickness than some reaction to the chemical itself. The couch has become a boat floating about on air currents.

The headspace is neutral, not much in the way of emotional or perceptual changes beyond what is immediately happening in my body. I don’t feel manic or sociable, just neutral, content to continue as I was doing, minding my own business and occasionally chatting with my fiancé. My mind is lucid and I am still able to process and articulate thoughts as I normally would. There are no issues with maintaining conversation.

 

T1:10- It builds exponentially, a rising weight heaving through me. I feel heavy, so much heavier, this has passed into the realm of the great dense syrupy sinking dissociation. There is a great deal of euphoria and comfort lurking about here, I feel extremely content to be right here, in this moment. I am chatty and bubbly, there is a social warmth among the heavy dizzy dissociation. Not a manic stimulated warmth, but something akin to the bubbles rising up to the surface of water that has just begun to boil. I am certainly reaching a rapid boil now.

It builds and builds and it becomes harder to think or speak, there is just so much of the experience to engage with. Not much in the way of visual or sensory effects, but any attempts at moving or walking make it deeply apparent how heavily dissociated I am.

Another curious effect begins to creep in at this point- I am swallowing more, my heart flutters, my fingertips are stimming and grabbing at things, and above all else, I am just awash with a fiery explosion of pure euphoria- The dizzying fog is cut through with a galleon of empathogenic effects, bright flares setting my neurons alight. I am suddenly very talkative and gushy, easily treading past the normal dissociative inhibitions to socializing. I just do not care, I want to talk, to love, to be friendly. I am jittery and jumpy, but oddly enough there still isn’t much of a sense of underlying stimulation. It is as though I am presenting the outward façade of an empathogen without the underlying systemic effects. Very curious. I am excited and short of breath. The edges of my vision flash in pale magenta and teal.

 

T1:20- Anything that gives me empathogenic effects will normally leave me tense, strung, and shaky, but not this. I am just melted on the couch, adrift in my dizzy dissociation, a pool of dense oil sloshing and dripping as the world turns. A rainbow sheen of energetic euphoria traces across the surface of this oil, not penetrating any deeper into it. I am alert but not stimulated. I definitely could not sleep right now. I am dissociated and content with it and all of its implications. My heart and brain feel flighty like a bird flitting through the warmth of sunbeams. There is visual static washing over everything I can see, multicolored visual snow, at times trying to form itself into vague amorphous patterns but ultimately failing and collapsing under their own instability and half-formedness. I close my eyes to try and immerse in that visual space, but I am greeted with little more than concentric ripples in dull colors. Not much to say, it is as if the drug wants me to open my eyes and engage with the waking world. I want to talk to people and be social but I cannot yet publicly talk about this compound so I keep it to myself. No matter what happens though, I am blissful and content.

 

T1:46- Effects have held the same pattern for a steady peak. Not many differences to note, I am playing video games on my laptop while my fiancé still plays other video games in the same room. It is a comfortable coexistence and this is particularly highlighted by a drug that emphasizes contentedness, peace and tranquility with ones current conditions. I am feeling great, I am numb at my extremities and it is like a gentle wind blows across me. The sense of dizziness and floppiness seems to well through me in waves. A vast deep-sea upwelling that tangles my proprioception with each pass. My limbs slowly settle back into place just as another wave hits and scrambles them again. The gentle lapping tides of a moonlit night. I am still a bit nauseous but nothing too concerning or annoying. This is not a dissociative for getting up and doing things. I am glued to the couch. Despite the energetic euphoria, nothing overcomes the floppy weight of this drug. Perhaps I could get up and dance if someone forced me but I am content to just lay here and think pleasant thoughts.

 

T2:06- The experience begins to recede a bit- a brief but exciting peak. I am mostly just feeling alert and distractable. There is clearly a physical dissociation and numbness still trailing through my limbs, but the headspace has remained lucid throughout. Beyond the generated euphoria and the dissociative afterglow, I am perfectly functional. I lie back and enjoy the ride. I am distractible and keenly interested in whatever grabs ahold of me, like being very stoned.

 

T2:20 – Trickling down more. The empathogenic effects have for the most part passed, there is no stimulated interest in anything. Just a lingering sense of dizziness and dissociation.

 

T3:00- Completely back to baseline.

 

Conclusion: POxP is a really exciting development in the world of dissociatives- that immutable cyclohexane ring in the arylcyclohexylamine is now quite mutable, though it doesn’t really yield potent compounds. It will just barely tolerate another atom in the ring, so long as it remains six members.  This is seen in POxP and PThP. PThP is fairly boring- doses high, short duration, not a particularly intense or interesting experience. POxP is something a little more special though- though it is even less potent and shorter acting than PThP, there is this fascinating empathogenic rush, a delightful serotonergic euphoria. There is still an edge of dissociative intensity lurking there too, though the dissociation itself is fairly nondescript. I only tried this one orally, so I am not sure if different effects would be found with other routes of administration, perhaps intranasal or vaporized.
I have no idea to what it owes these seeming serotonergic effects, or if that was even just some weird fluke for me. I have not heard of anybody else’s experience with this compound so I cannot have this corroborated. It is definitely something worth investigating further- though I do wonder if it is a compound that lends itself to compulsive redosing- the short duration coupled with the intense euphoria. Perhaps someday it will exist in the world in someday to learn more about it.

PThP

 Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 250 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: My house

 

Preface: I was privileged to be one of the first people in human history to ingest the drug PThP, for which there is no prior documentation. The only relevant information I could gather was a thread on Bluelight, where a user claimed to have read an article in the European Journal of Medicinal Chemistry that stated that this compound demonstrated NMDA receptor affinity and antagonist action from PThP. Unfortunately they (and no other users) were actually able to locate this article.

Chemically speaking, PThP would be considered an Arylthianylamine, as opposed to an Arylcyclohexylamine. As the name states, it has the structure of an arylcylohexylamine, but with the cyclohexane ring replaced by a 4-thiane ring, a saturated (single bonds only) 6-member carbon ring where one of the carbons is replaced with a sulfur, in this case the carbon opposite of the amine/phenyl ring. PThP is the Arylthianylamine analogue of PCP. Per naming conventions, other amines would bear other suffixes, like PThE as an analogue of PCE.

Several studies have demonstrated that messing with the middle cyclohexane ring tends to stifle NMDA-antagonist activity in aryl-x-amines. Making it into a 5-member cyclopentane or a 7-member cycloheptane sees a steep drop in activity. The sulfur however, seems to conserve activity, perhaps by roughly maintaining the size of the middle ring so it still fits snugly in the channel of the NMDA receptor, blocking it and producing familiar dissociative effects. As is seen in a number of other psychoactive compounds, an oxygen can be exchanged for the sulfur and conserve activity, forming an oxane ring, referred to as an aryloxanylamine (This is a claim that is unpublished elsewhere that I discovered on my own- the resulting compound, POxP, which pends a future report, is active though less potent than PThP).

I first attempted to titrate up doses with POxP, which demonstrated a very low potency, with threshold effects only being observed well over 100 mg orally. I felt confident starting with a fairly high dose of PThP, finding threshold effects at 100 mg. The report that follows is for a single 250 mg dose taken orally in a gel cap. The overall duration of the experience was about 5 hours, I found it to be a fairly unremarkable and light dissociative, but I think it is still a fascinating compound, especially in its further implications in the activity of aryl-x-amines. I personally find it very exciting that there is a whole world of potential compounds contained in altering the supposedly untouchable middle cyclohexane ring! Perhaps other modifications to the molecule like substitutions on the phenyl ring could yield more interesting effects to explore or boost the potency. In my opinion it is something very well worth investigating into the future.

 

T0:00- Dose taken.

 

T0:40- I have been facetiming with a close friend who is dyeing her hair. We chat and as we interact I begin to notice the first notes, a sense of feeling a bit floaty and heavy. I am certain that this is not any sort of placebo effect.

 

T1:07- The call ends. I take stock of what sets in, a dissociation that could only be described as heavy and stretchy.

 

T1:12- The most distinct way the dissociation manifests now is a sense of constant motion, as though my brain were an intangible entity separate from my skull, its phantom-form taken up in the rushes of a running stream, dissolving into the currents and being dragged into the unknown distance. The waters are exactly the temperature of my body. It is like a sterile wind, neutral and always moving. I feel heavy. There is a swirly heavy drunkenness like my head has turned to a dense mass of viscous black lava, slowly seeping and drooping and pulling me to the earth at the mercy of gravity, its black skin cracking and separating to exude the glow of the energy that lies beneath. There is a tightness in my body as my skin begins to go numb like I am being bound by something invisible. My breathing is conscious and labored, the entire world feels heavy around me. The walls may sink further into the earth at any moment.

 

T1:20- My visual field stretches away from me, creating some strange imperceptible space between my mind and my senses. Everything has a sensation of being distant, despite no clear discernible change in my visual input. The sensory information resonates and distorts in this empty space, where it is free to flow and mingle and tangle and present itself to me at the drug’s behest. Light visuals begin to present, for the most part in a subtle strobing of my visual space. Faint colors flash in occasionally, timid golden hues and pale, understated reds. There are subtle quadrilateral patterns on the walls, though they are hard to discern.

There is not much stimulation, not much of a sense of rushing or being forcefully drawn into the experience. There is a steady motion, slow and deliberate, as purposeful and inevitable as a bathtub filling with water. I stand up and move, my limbs feel heavy and numb, but I am otherwise fairly functional, able to walk steadily, carry objects and interact with my environment. The experience bakes into me a bit but I for the most part feel lucid. My partner is upstairs giving a mutual friend a haircut, I am downstairs alone in the dark. I go up and am easily able to maintain brief conversation with them both. This is ultimately a fairly mild experience. There is however, a perpetual sense of sinking further and further into the Earth.

 

T1:30- I am a heavy piece of steel, cold and still and inhuman. My fingers are light and uncoordinated, typical of dissociatives. Their movements are more a function of muscle memory than anything within what my mind and body can coordinate. The numbness on my skin gives way to a sudden sensitivity. I want to lie and stretch out and rub myself on the soft surfaces around me like a cat squirming in a sunbeam. Everything feels so baseless and unstable, I am treading water or flitting about in the wind, totally unanchored. None of this particularly stands out from other dissociatives I have experienced, such as ketamine. It is a pretty standard suite of effects, for now mostly characterized by a dazed empty-headedness, a sensation of steady flowing and a sterile dryness to my skin and being, and most of all an odd contradiction of at once feeling very heavy and dense yet at the same time feeling light, flighty, floaty, and unbound.

 

T2:00- This has been a steady peak. I am disoriented and distractible. I smoke a bit of cannabis and this mostly just serves to stimulate my flow of thoughts. I am still alone downstairs, wondering how to occupy my time. I close my eyes and put in headphones and listen to some music to try and immerse myself fully in the effects. I am cast into a world of some vocaloid shoegaze artist (re;mo, album “Nanairo”), untethered from my body and sunken into a synesthetic landscape of subtle dimmed hues and feeble geometric forms. With a more intense experience, closing my eyes and listening to music through headphones is a surefire way to shed my physical form and project into a hallucinatory consciousness; my sense of body gains a phantom mobility, develops odd proportions and bends and twists and contorts in impossible ways, there is a sense of losing gravity, of flying or levitating, of a great soft pressure pushing in from all sides. With this I am still quite aware of m­­y body, of the surface it rests on and the memory of the space around me. I know exactly where I am, what my body is doing, I am mostly dizzy and dazed and drawn into the sensory experience like I am peeking under the surface of the ocean with a mask and snorkel, as opposed to diving all the way into its infinite depths.  My notes turn to gibberish at this point, probably from trying to type with my eyes closed, relying on a distorted muscle memory in my fingers. The waves wash over me. I am oily, swirling around my surroundings but not dissolving into them. With my eyes open those same quadrilateral visuals become tracery and latticework on the walls.

 

T2:30- already feels like a descent. I am lucid enough to read and browse the internet and take in information, this so far has not been intense enough to induce the dissociative double-vision that often renders me illiterate. I spend my time on 4chan of all places just out of sheer curiosity for what it has become in this day and age. I used to be a habitual browser of 4chan when I was a teenager, for better or worse (probably worse) it was a formative place that affected much of my development and socialization. It was where I first learned about research chemicals in fact. I aimlessly scroll through /b/ like I used to, it was once a place of familiarity and comfort, where I could talk about whatever with no consequence. It is the same as always really, just a lot of porn, people playing games with the post numbering system, people just dumping image collections and some discussions overflowing with toxicity and bad advice. It felt bigger, more important, and most of all, more entertaining back then. This does nothing for me anymore. I guess one can never go back. I decide to indulge in other nostalgia and play some flash games. These activities and interactions feel meditative but ultimately just like aimless stimulation, matching the experience- aimless, directionless, just empty interaction and the induction of an empty dissociative state.

T2:46- Going down, still a bit dizzy, still feels like I’m trailing off of the peak. There is not much to note or describe anymore beyond the steady descent to baseline in a relatively short span of time.

 

T3:18- The experience is mostly gone. I am still just hanging out by myself in the dark browsing the vast internet.

 

T4:30- Back to baseline.

 

Conclusion:

There’s no denying that PThP represents a really interesting development in the field of aryl-x-amines. The fact that the supposedly untouchable center ring can in fact be altered and still yield an active dissociative is really fascinating to me! What’s lacking is any magic or appeal in the actual experience- yes it is active, but it is not particularly interesting or engaging. It checks the bare minimum for being an active dissociative- it induces all of the familiar effects- Numbness, a loss of proprioception, a sensation of motion or sinking, a perceived sense of visual distance and derealization, dizziness and lightheadedness, a bit of stimulation, some light visuals. It lacks much depth beyond that however, it is a hollow and basic experience that really defies further description, not because it was so severe and baffling but because it felt so limited. There was little in the way of emotional depth, there was perhaps a bit of introspection and insight but it was buried in a hollow and dry and empty space, bathed in sterile light and dark. The experience was short, it was fairly light and nondescript, and most unfortunately of all, a very large quantity of the compound had to be consumed to induce this much of an experience. It was boring, but the implications are far more interesting- are there modifications to this base scaffold that would yield more interesting effects? Higher potency, longer duration, deeper insight? Perhaps there are, perhaps there aren’t, and only dedicated exploration (without promise of meaningful results!) will reveal that. For now I am happy to contribute this one data point to the pool of nonexistent information on this compound or any related compounds.

 

Wednesday, December 7, 2022

Bioassay data for two new arylcyclohexylamine-like dissociatives: POxP and PThP

EDIT: Courtesy of u/knittingdotcom, I have located the elusive paper that originally inspired these compounds:
https://sci-hub.se/https://doi.org/10.1016/0223-5234(96)85170-1

Hamon J, Vignon J, Kamenka JM (1996) Effect of lowered lipophilicity on the affinity of PCP analogues for the PCP receptor and the dopamine transporter. European Journal of Med. Chem. 31 (489-495)

With this paper in mind, there are some interesting things to note- Firstly, as I've predicted, there's an appreciable increasein affinity in replacing the phenyl ring with a thiophene ring. This can be seen for both the oxane and thiane analogues of PCP (as well as in the PCP analogue TCP, which is well documented). Curiously, the affinity for POxP seems well outside the range of what would be considered active- if we were to just extrapolate the potency of POxP based on knowing the affinity of PThP, one would expect POxP to dose on the order of multiple grams. The fact that it is only a little less potent than PThP relatively is curious and I don't know any explanation for this.


I've had the privilege of researching two entirely novel dissociatives, POxP and PThP, technically analogues of PCP, though technically not truly arylcyclohexylaines.

The short version is- they are not too potent and have a short duration. PThP is not too interesting, but POxP had a unique empathogenic effect. I go into more detail later.

So makes their strutures special? The difference lies in that central cyclohexane ring, the middle part of the name Arylcyclohexylamine. Arylcyclohexylamines don't normally tolerate variation to that central ring, expanding to a cycloheptane and reducing to a cyclopentane both see a substantial drop in activity (Buyukbingol et al 2007, Wallach 2014). While a six member ring seems best, it would appear that the only one tolerated is not a cyclohexane- meet POxP and PThP!

Both of these compounds contain an either an oxane or a thiane ring; that is a single bonded six member ring with one of the carbons replaced with an oxygen or a sulfur respectively. POxP and PThP are anaogues of PCP, but the cyclohexane is replaced with an oxane or a thiane. Technically, they would be classified as Aryloxanylamines and Arylthianylamines respectively.


The only relevant information I could gather about these compounds was a thread on Bluelight, where a user claimed to have read an article in the European Journal of Medicinal Chemistry that stated that this compound demonstrated NMDA receptor affinity and antagonist action from PThP. Unfortunately they (and no other users) were actually able to locate this article.


I tested them via GC/MS, just to confirm that they were indeed these novel compounds: GC/MS for POxP Whereas you can see the single peak shows a molecular weight of ~245, corresponding to that of POxP GC/MS for PThP Whereas you can see the single peak shows a molecular weight of 261, corresponding to that of PThP.

I have a full experience report written for both of these compounds, which I will post soon! I steadily titrated my dose up for each one, though I had to eventually take some leaps as I only had a very limited amount to research.

My summary of each is:

POxP

POxP is a short acting and impotent dissociative that dosed at ~300+ mg orally. I am not sure about other routes of administration, other than it seemed to be equipotent intranasally. I did not try a much higher dose via that route than threshold effects. Whether it is active vaporized is unknown.

It has a short duration, ~3 hours. It is a heavy, floppy dissociative like ketamine, smooth and gentle and a bit sedating, and a bit mentally stimulating. The dissociative effect are ultimately nondescript and minor though. Most interesting however, is a slight empathogenic effect that feels like a flood of serotonin. It is like a combination of an 5/6-MAPB type empathogen (less stimulation than MDMA) combined with ketamine. It's a wonderful dreamy social state.

Dosage (Very rough)

ROA: Oral

Threshold: 160 mg

Light: 160-250 mg

Medium: 250 mg - 350 mg

Heavy: 350 mg+

Duration

ROA: Oral

Onset: 30 min-1 hr

Comeup: 20-40 min

Peak: 30 min-1 hr

Comedown: 1-2 hrs

Total: 2.5-4 hrs


PThP

PThP is less exciting. It is a dull and brief experience like POxP, but without that empathogenic effect. It is slightly visual, but not much to talk about. Similarly heavy dissociation. Something of note is that it is more potent and longer lasting than POxP.


Dosage (very rough)

ROA: Oral

Threshold: 100 mg

Light: 100-200 mg

Medium: 200-300 mg

Heavy: 300+ mg


Duration

ROA: Oral

Onset: 30 min-1 hr

Comeup: 20-40 min

Peak: 1 -2 hrs

Comedown: 2-3 hrs

Total: 4-6 hrs

These are two super interesting compounds just in term of structure-activity relations- I wonder what other ways the center ring can be modified and still yield active dissociatives- and to what does POxP owe its empathogenic effects? How can that molecule be modified to perhaps amplify those effects? And how could either compound be amplified to see a more workable potency? Perhap a thiophene ring in place of the phenyl? (TOxP and TThP respectively). So much to be discovered, and this is just the start! Sadly I do not think these compounds will be on the market any time in the near future, but I figured I could offer this up as data for structure-activity reactions and perhaps to inspire further research from those with the resources to do so!


References:

  1. Buyokbingol E, Sisman A, Akyildiz M, FN Alparslan, Adejare A (2007) Adaptive neuro-fuzzy inference system (ANFIS): a new approach to predictive modeling in QSAR applications: a study of neuro-fuzzy modeling of PCP-based NMDA receptor antagonists. Bioorganic & Medicinal Chemistry 15(12): 4265-4282

  2. Wallach J (2014) Structure Activity Relationship (SAR) Studies of Arylcycloalkylamines as N-Methyl-D-Aspartate Receptor Antagonists. Ph.D Dissertation, University of the Sciences in Philadelphia. 3690548

TMA-2

 Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 45 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: My house


Preface: TMA-2 is a psychedelic amphetamine closely related to mescaline. TMA-2 is just one of a series of the compounds known as the TMAs- short for TriMethoxy Amphetamine. As the name suggests, these are amphetamines with 3-methoxy groups. Those familiar with mescaline will know it by another name: 3,4,5-Trimethoxyphenethylamine. That is, it is a phenethylamine bearing 3 methoxy groups, at the 3, 4, and 5 positions. The lead compound of the TMA series, TMA, is a direct amphetamine analogue of mescaline, with methoxy groups at the 3, 4, and 5 positions. TMA-2 is similar, but has those groups at the 2, 4, and 5 positions. There is a whole range of other iterations of the TMA molecule, mixing and matching the position of the 3 methoxy groups, and most appear to be active with varying degrees of potency. TMA-2 is the one that has seen the widest availability on the research chemical market. This is outlined in Alexander Shulgin’s seminal PiHKAL (Though he did not invent the TMA series nor was he the first to synthesize TMA, he was the first to provide an in-depth exploration of their subjective effects in humans)

As is typical for psychedelic phenethylamines, the amphetamine analogues are orders of magnitude more potent than their plain phenethylamine counterparts- in fact, in some cases, the phenethylamine version appears to be totally inactive! TMA-2 is an example of this, where for 2,4,5-trimethoxyphenethylamine, just threshold effects were possibly noted at upwards of 300 mg.

As is also typical of psychedelic amphetamines, the TMA series are for the most part quite long lasting, with an intense bodyload. I found this to certainly be true of TMA-2. While most have noted that it is not a particularly visual substance, I found it to actually be quite vivid. The bodyload was substantial if not outright painful for me, to the point that I am not likely to revisit it, a shame because it is such a bright, fun, jovial and mentally stimulating compound, perfect for socializing with dear friends. The sample was teste via GC/MS to confirm its identity.

 

T0:00- Dose taken. It is morning. Several of my friends, the same classic comrades in many of my explorations will be visiting today. We will all be consuming drugs together. I take mine before they arrive, as I expect a long comeup. I am just home with my fiancé, getting ready and tidying the house.

 

T0:15- The day hasn’t begun yet and there is already that distinct anxious nausea- did I miscalculate the timing? Oops. I am shaking a bit.

 

T0:30- This has plowed through me like a train. The drug burns through my nerves, well before I was prepared for it. This premature comeup is rattling all of the shutters and shaking the walls like a tumbling gale.

 

T1:00- This is remarkably uncomfortable. I feel like I am about to throw up. My mucous has become thick, my nose is running. It is like I have been whipped with a bout of the flu, but with color, energy, electricity. I cannot sit still.

2 of my friends arrive. One of them, J, is extensively experienced, often mentioned in other reports, here for another adventure. The other, E, is a dear friend and one of my old roommates who has witnessed me in all variety of states. His only experience with psychedelics is with psilocybin mushrooms. He intends to try LSD.

To my experienced friend I grant a dose of 4-HO-MALT. To my other friend, I intended to give LSD- though it turns out I did not have any readily available. So I gave him a 1-substituted lysergamide, specifically 1-cP-LSD. 1cP-LSD, like the other 1-substituted lysergamides, are metabolized to LSD fairly consistently, which I explain to him in tedious detail. I am agitated and nervous while I do this task. I am further into a psychedelic experience than I would prefer at this time.

 

T1:15- My nerves are being shaken about as though they are in the clutches of a hyperactive child. The terrible gripping nausea boils over and I have to go throw up, shortly after greeting my friends. I hope it doesn’t affect their perceptions.

I feel immediately better. Still reeling from such intense stimulus, I really begin to notice visual effects begin to set in. Tracers follow my vision and any movement I can see. Patterns run down the wall, glistening rivulets dancing and shimmering about. Little particles rush across my vision and bounce around my peripheries, leaving trails of afterimages in their wake. It is all bright and minute.

I feel jovial and upbeat despite the bodily effects. I couldn’t feel bad if I wanted to, at least mentally and emotionally.

 

T1:30- My stomach hurts so much again and feels so terrible but I’m having fun so I don’t care. I am overheated and sweaty and my nose is still running, I just feel like a mess all over. I am laughing and joking with my friends, conversation flows easily and feels comfortable and natural, clever quips come easily from all of us. My friends are well into riding their respective comeups now.

 

T1:40- Any relief from the nausea was temporary- it wells up again, forcing me to lie still, clutching my abdomen. I am having so much fun, this would be such an ecstatic revelatory experience of unbridled joy were it not for the incredible discomfort. Perhaps I am not meant to experience such euphoria, it must always be tempered through some other avenue. Visuals are violet, yellow, pink, and green, vibrant and saturated, playing in concentric swirling forms on the walls like the luscious sky of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’. The boundaries of the forms are etched deep and defined in high relief, they are inescapable and unavoidable. The visuals are not however, particularly intricate and complex for all their vivid presence, there are no fractals, no ornate forms like bone sutures, no impossibly complex patterns, and there is no particular organic quality. They are neutral and still, existing unpretentiously and harmoniously with my regular perceptions, with about as much life as the clouds passing in the sky above.

I am watching my friends play ‘Cuphead’. This game looks so challenging, especially in this state. It is a fun medium to interact with, to laugh and joke about.

 

T2:00- One of my other best friends, C, arrives. He knocks on the door like he’s playing a drum solo (He is in a band), it resounds through the garden of the house, it is disorienting and exhilarating, I give him a dose of Isopropylphenidine that I had had custom synthesized. In addition, I give my fiancé what I believed to be a small dose of 3-MeO-PCE. All of us are on some substance now. The new energy of his entrance and his interactions with all the current denizens is like opening the windows and letting fresh air and sunlight run rampant through the room, everything suddenly feels more spacious and full of light. We sit around and play video games and doodle and listen to Charli XCX. I keep trying to sink into the experience but the environment around me is more engaging. I would rather experience the world with my eyes open. I am glad I am not alone for this. My body is warm and I am shaking a lot.

 

T3:45- We go out into the backyard. The tree in the backyard is a vivid emerald green, glistening white clouds crawl across a deep blue sky. The sun is out in full force. It is not late enough in the season to be terribly hot and the mosquitos haven’t begun to spawn yet. A gentle breeze rests in the air. I can see the depths and the reach of the sky, I can see the motion of the great air masses carrying the clouds about, it is all so vast above me and I feel so small like a little insect in a garden, it’s a wonderful comfortable euphoria that contrasts with the persistent physical discomfort.
All of us are now hanging out reveling in our respective experiences. E, who took 1cP-LSD seems to be undergoing the most intense experience out of all of us, getting tripped up in loops and misunderstanding things. The rest of us are fairly lucid for the time being. We read over one of my fiancé’s ‘Physique Pictorial’ magazines, which came as a free gift wit a Tom of Finland T-shirt.  For those unaware, ‘Physique Pictorial’ was a famous ‘Beefcake Magazine’, where images of scantily clad men were collected and published under the guise of them being fitness models, when in reality it was a means for the gay community to connect and interact when it was largely still underground in the 1950s. All of us were fairly secure in our respective varied sexualities, so there was a bit of good natured chiding and joking as we flipped through and ogled the magazine. Against my knowledge, this set into motion a paranoid chain of events.

E begins to seem nervous and agitated. He wants a change of setting, he feels uncomfortable, something is wrong but he can’t quite communicate what it is. He repeatedly keeps dismissing his thoughts as “you guys have all experienced this anyway” and refuses to elaborate. I go for a walk around the block with him- perhaps a change of setting might help.

 

T4:00- It’s just the two of us now, we are both very tall. Sounds reverberate and flow around me, bouncing and trailing. There are families and children walking around outside enjoying the day, we just talk to each other, we both seem freaked out by the world around us. We pet a cat, we stroll and avoid others, there is some churning imbalance that we cannot identify yet. I want to feel like a sage and a mentor, I am getting too caught up in my own ego. The world leans into me, submits to my consciousness as I navigate it, the flowers bow to my emotions; I am honestly taken aback by how intense this is for me. I needed to shed my own tensions it seems. Patterns drift and form in the sky, interlocking spiral forms, growing little sprouts that form ever more spirals. There is an iridescent shifting sheen to the clouds and to everything really, prismatic films dancing around my vision. The great sphere above seems to pulse into me, press down on me from the heavens, concentric circles of air masses and lights bearing down on my exact location, like I am dragging the weight of all the worlds’ essences with me as I walk. after a quick circle of the block, we both decide this is too strange and go back home.

 

T4:30- Everyone is still lounging in the backyard. It is a warm languid day. The whole collection of people has coalesced again in their various states. J and C aren’t really feeling much of anything. My Fiancé is a little too hyped up and manic from a dose of 3-MeO-PCE. E is in throes of an ever growing psychedelic storm, and I am having my own intense psychedelic experience.
We linger around the backyard, moving in and out of the house at our leisure, each trying to find our place and the state in which we want to be. E retreats into just listening to music on his headphones and ignoring us now. I am just trying to keep a hold on this nausea that comes in waves and waves and waves.

 

T5:00- E says he needs to be alone. I offer him a soft place upstairs where he can be separated from the rest of us. The oblique afternoon light is starting to lazy its way into the windows. My fiancé makes him a mug of tea. I ask if I can sit down with him and talk because he seems so distressed. At last in confidence, as best as he can confess in sharp disjointed interjections, he reveals to me that he believes this entire experience was an elaborate scheme to use drugs to turn him into a homosexual. Every angle of this is baffling- He doesn’t even have a problem with being homosexual! Perhaps it was the classic delusion of your peers all conspiring against you, to all sorts of nefarious ends, in this case I guess, indoctrinating him into the gay agenda. We are all the agents of the gay agenda, who have created this elaborate set piece, this perfectly engineered experience, to clutch him from his autonomy; To the point where he even believed we had painted our bathroom pink to “convert” him! (our bathroom has always been pink). Once that seed was planted, that all of us fairies were here to indoctrinate him into the “lifestyle”, it was over. Every counterargument I offered, ever reassuring or rational chain of thought he offered-I was met with pushback, with “well that’s just what you want me to be hearing, its all part of your plan! I’m on to you!”

And this, in all my years of built-up ego, of being a prominent and competent navigator of the psychedelic realm, was distressing to me too. I was failing. I never failed at this, I wasn’t supposed to fail at this, It is my responsibility not to fail at this. I fancied myself some sort of sage and some sort of guide but I was subject to the same chaos that pervades any psychedelic experience. My inflated ego had come to roost and the failing of my hubris was humiliating. It was spiraling out of control. I was no longer a confidante, I was now a suspect in the conspiracy, not to be trusted at all, had to totally disengage. I felt at a loss of what to do. I gave him the drug, it was my responsibility to guide him along. Should I have had him embrace this dysphoria? Would that have caused worse consequences? I wanted to push back but to be gentle, but such paranoia could be so hard to challenge. But here I was, taking up the mentor role our of sheer hubris and arrogance from my experiences, failing. I just wanted him to be ok. I just wanted this to be a useful experience to him. I didn’t want to fail him. I knew being overbearing would just make it worse. I was really truly at a loss, and I was terrified, anxious. I had poisoned my friend yet again. I have been so humbled, and not even by my own drug, which at this point was a simmering smoldering discomfort, I was distracted from the body load by all else going on.

My fiancé is in the predicament that they need to go somewhere, but may not be able to bike since they are now pretty dissed. I talk to them about what’s happening, but I am scared of talking out loud, for fear of making E more paranoid. We communicate by typing out notes and looking at them. J and C are not really feeling much from their respective experiences. Everything feels tense and panicked. To me at least. I feel frazzled, as the host, I feel responsible for everyone having a good time. I feel duty bound to address every problem, yet again my ego interjecting, assuming that I alone can solve things that others can navigate themselves, or perhaps didn’t even need help with.

 

5:30- My fiancé is about to leave. When they step into the backyard, our cat gets out. He is prone to dashing outside and is extremely difficult to wrangle once out. I am the only one who can chase him down and catch him right now. The stress feels like it’s about to crack me, but I cannot give up. I hop the wall into the neighbor’s yard, scruff him, and bring him home. I am so grateful that he did not climb the tree or make this into a more drawn out process that would involve the neighbors. It seems like my physical capacities and coordination aren’t impaired at all. I bring him in and breathe a sigh of relief. I call an uber for my fiancé to address that. E is sitting alone drinking tea upstairs, listening to music and watching me chase the cat through the window, we are content to leave him alone and he seems content to be alone. J and C are having a nice time just hanging out and playing video games, even if neither is tripping too hard. I offer C a dose of 3-Me-PCP as consolation for not feeling much, and he seems content with that. Things feel like they are leveling out. I don’t need to be so wound up.

 

T6:00- It’s just us left now. We try to play a game of Mario Party, it glitches out so we give up. C is enjoying his 3-Me-PCE. E is mostly keeping to himself and listening to music now. I feel like he would probably be better off without me bothering him. He seems high strung and paranoid. I feel uneasily at peace. I kind of want to be alone.

 

T7:00- Everyone left at once of their own accord. E still seemed perturbed and I hoped he would get home okay and be okay by himself. I hope he doesn’t hurt himself when he is alone, I hope he is able to manage the paranoid thoughts in a safe and unintrusive way. I am just worrying and worrying, but the underlying current of the experience is still pleasant and positive. It feels nice to be alone now, I feel like I can let out a sigh of relief. The experience is still quite intense, deep visuals still stir on every surface, concentric forms in emerald and aquamarine, luminous like an aurora reflected on a still icy pond. There is still a rushing stimulating, there is still nausea and tension in my muscles. I am wired like my spine is crackling with electricity. I try to make some instant rice and beans but I have no appetite. I choke them down with great difficulty. I am just lounging around my house reading things on the computer, following whatever details catch my fancy.

 

T8:00- I am coming off of the peak now at last, it seems the effects are receding- the visuals, the bodyload, it all starts to fade.

 

T11:00- Mostly down. Feeling a stimulated, focused afterglow. I walk to the house where my fiancé is staying-we are going out with my parents for father’s day tomorrow and it would be easiest to pick us up in one place. The walk through the city at midnight is exciting as always, interesting characters streaming about. I feel strung out and wound up and paranoid, there is a tense spring to my step. And despite that, there is still that underlying pleasant buzz. Visuals are little more than brief flashes and color and texture as my eyes dart about.

 

T13:00- I feel nearly back to baseline, or so I think. I take 2 mg of Fluclotizolam to fall asleep. There is a pleasant buzz as I eat some late night snack before drowsiness overtakes me.

 

Epilogue: I felt a joyous warm sentimentality the whole next day. The weather was beautiful and I had a lovely time exploring a sculpture garden with my parents and my fiancé. It is etched into my memory as a beautiful and deeply sentimental experience- I enjoyed being around my parents now, I saw them as friends and was at peace with a lot of the conflict that once tainted all of our interactions. Every little moment of that day formed as a detailed memory, one that warms my heart to think back to it. I am not sure if it is some lingering after effect of the drawn out TMA-2 experience that etched these memories so dearly into me. But the entire experience was colored by a sunny optimistic undercurrent, and perhaps that persisted beyond all of the other effects.

 

Conclusion: TMA-2 is a challenging but rewarding experience, worthwhile for those willing to suffer the massive lingering bodyload and the overwrought, nonstop stimulation. It is an exhausting and intense experience, but it is redeemed by the joyous essence that pervades the experience and lasts well beyond it. It felt nearly impossible to feel truly bad while on this substance, even as my setting deteriorated. Everything was taken in stride, with genuine humor and absurdity- all I can do is laugh after all. It was visually intense, something I found remarkable as most reports on this compound claim it is hardly visual. Visuals mostly manifested as sharply defined concentric forms, cast in cool colors and punctuated by drifting shocks of electric warmth. The headspace was burnt out like it was overloaded with arcing lightning, I felt worn and paranoid, but also jovial and optimistic. It was an odd sort of contrast that further exhausted me in any attempt to make sense of or reconcile it. The bodyload was punishing, making me vomit early on. An intense nausea and abdominal pain came in miserable queasy waves throughout the peak of the experience, not relenting until several hours in. My muscles were tense and shaky, I was sweaty and hot and my nose kept running. This is not a compound to be taken lightly, it is serious and intense and a heavy commitment for a whole weekend. I do not regret taking this compound at all, though I am unlikely to revisit it.