3,4-MD-PCiPr

Age: 29

Weight: 140 lbs

Dosage: 28 mg intransal

Setting: At home, a hot summer day, after running a bunch of errands.

 [As I have a bit of a tolerance this dose may be high for most users. I would suggest a starting dose as 20-25 mg]

Preface: 3,4-MD-substitutions on aryclcyclohexylamines- the amateur SAR enthusiast sees this and thinks “wow, just like MDMA!”, but structure activity relations between different scaffolds are entirely different. Any apparent resemblance to MDMA is mere coincidence, the substitution offers nothing similar in its actions. Think of it as an example of convergent evolution- Several different clades of mammal developed gliding behavior and anatomy independently (Rodents, Marsupials, Dermoptera), several different scaffolds of psyhocative compounds bind to different human neurotransmitter receptors with a 3,4-Methylenedioxy group and retain psychoactive activity. A cosmic coincidence.

Should there be any doubt to the identity of this substance, I can provide characterization via GCMS, 2D-NMR, HRMS, melting point, and purity via LCMS.

The only 3,4-MD-substituted compound that has been documented is 3,4-MD-PCP, a unique, powerful and fascinating drug, hard to describe, immensely therapeutic but very liable to get out of hand of not treated carefully- I find those unforgiving, high risk, high reward qualities present in this compound too.

Across my multitude of experiences I have found this compound to truly be a wild ride, unpredictable, capricious, ready to present gardens of delight laden with thorns. On multiple occasions (and often when mixed with other dissociatives, namely 2-FXE) I have found myself in a state of acute paranoia about friends, social circumstances; At one point I was driven to sleep with a large fixed blade knife under my pillow- But that is the rough edges of the beauty that this compound presents- the National Parks kill hundreds of unwary travelers every year but no one would doubt their sacrifices are worth it.

The danger lies in this compound’s deep seated mania, a dangerous kind where it is subtle yet all consuming, a vicious conspiracy building webs in the background of my mind, mycelium ready to explode into prismatic fungal bodies with the right trigger. It is stimulating, it is bright, it is powerfully euphoric and rewarding. It is profound and energetic, it is wonderful for dancing with friends or walking the streets riffing and joking. It is luscious and beautiful on its own in a quiet place alone- like its cousin 3,4-MD-PCP, it is adaptable, hard to pin down, all consuming and all transforming. I chose to integrate this experience into a basic day of doing chores and performing the necessities for my life. This drug makes me feel like I am the main character, moreso than any over I’ve taken; for better or for worse.

 

T0:00- Dose snorted. The powder is very fluffy. There is a mild instant shock of a followed by a slow, progressive, and severe burn. It fluffs into the sinuses and covers everything. Fairly unpleasant.

 

T0:10- Onset, feeling a little fuzzy and lightheaded. I am doing some house chores, putting groceries away and washing dishes. I can feel that my movements are different than normal.

 

T0:20- It comes on  slowly and gradually, though it is now markedly more intense than 10 minutes ago. a numbness extends to my extremities.

 

T0:30- It begins to crash over the breakers now. I am soon aloft with pulses of energy radiating from my spine, electric blue fire. It feels like there is a heavy weight floating around my core, pulling strings from my brain, tensing and binding my entire body. My heart rate suddenly quickens as a delightful rush washes over me, tingling numbness and sparks of energy. It is not in my face, it feels like it creeps in from the back, a little doggy door on my occipital bone. The electricity shoots into my eyes, it crawls across my bones and face, it is like a cold fire. I am elated, I am messaging people; visually, there is a meteor shower of purple static all over every blank surface. It am full of light.

 

T0:40- There is a sensation of being stretched out in a most comfortable and pleasurable way that sends tingles down my nerves. My stretched body is tanned in blades of piercing tingling light. My jaw is vibrating. I get up and dance to send off some of the excess energy, momentum sloshes through my limbs like a grey storm.

 

T1:00- The rush has begun to smooth out into a heavy disjointed peak, it feels like I am on a boat at high speeds, bouncing on the waves, but smooth, steady, and consistent. A steady breeze rushes my face. The sensory experiences are centered around my head and face, my body is just a neon ragdoll dragged along for the ride.

 

T1:15- This is a subtle heaviness with a lot of buzz, I feel bright and euphoric and social, I want to get up and do things. I am just in my room, which is a beautiful sanctuary space. I am content to be here but there is just such a big almost sentient dissociation pushing at my back and prodding me to interact with it. I continue to do some tidying around the house. The whole world spins blue around my solipsistic core. I step into the backyard and smoke some cannabis in the oppressive late summer heat. It feels like a jungle and mosquitos pester my ankles. The sky feels like a projection, the big cherry blossom tree a set piece, all accessories to what has become a very centered and narcissistic experience- I am a gravity well and as I am on this drug, the energies of the earth radiate to me! It feels good to be a god.

 

T1:30- I am back inside. It is heavy, like big jungle leaves overlapping and leaning over each other. I am thoroughly incapacitated. I am flung onto my couch. I could still move about and interact, but everything is taxed with weight and extra momentum. I can perform the outward functions of myself, and I recognize that I am performing those functions. It is a bizarre meta-analysis.

My spouse has come home from running errands. I am excitable and articulate, I want to talk about possibilities and plans, interesting tidbits of knowledge, I am energized. I can pull together and present something to the outside still. I love this variance, that in one moment I can be in the thralls of sludgy dissociative waves, hardly able to brick together a sentence- but at will I can talk and converse, disjointed but energetic and smooth and annoyingly enthusiastic.

I lounge back on the couch and gaze at the ceiling- endless lamellary patterns, flowing, drifting, overlapping, Clusters of concentric ripples choose to play among these forms, driving and writhing through their forms like creeping bottlebrush trees. It Is all in violet and blue. There are draperies of chains, ever layering, ever overlapping. A grand world issuing forth from the scales of a Pangolin. All is moving and flowing, On narrow and straight and right angled surfaces the forms compress into regular patterns, turning to a type of glyphs, temple decorations of my blissful sanctuary. Great transparent worms of cellophane work between the patterns, radiating forms blossom at each disturbance.

I feel like I am made of syrup, I am flopping about on the couch, letting my body sit how it will. I can snap out of it, stand up, do things in an ungainly manner, but my default state is to be disjointed, to feel my limbs in places I cannot imagine them. Tingling energy runs across my body. Bright, fiery and high- I really truly fell like I can do anything. I send out a proposal email to graduate school at the onset of this. The world is opening up, Inshallah.

When I sit still I vibrate, I am buzzing, I am like a wind up toy ready to go! But there is no urgency there, there is no tension, I could shoot off across the universe with the blink of an eye, but the energy is also content to sit and run infinite laps through my nervous system with no sign of tiring or desiring otherwise. How incredible it feels to have potential power.

I close my eyes and turn on Knifeplay, dreamy shoegaze, fuzzy and languid underlaid with cutting electric nerves, there felt a sort of kinship.

Despite the energy running about like an excited dog, I have elected to just sit still, let it wrestle, let it rumble. I close my eyes and let the music crawl over me, I feel cold sweaty, I feel so far away from everything. The music hits like deep violet droplets, pooling around me with a lacquer shine that reflects the moon. Amidst the baseline of the pools series of rectangular forms, inscrutable glyphs, concentric arrays of forms, roam past me, I lazily acknowledge their presence and let them drift off to the glittering abyss.

T2:00- I have sunken to the experience’s languid chambers for the last half hour, surrendering myself to its sensory qualities. It still rages like a thunderhead anchored to my skull. I sit up, I stop flopping around. I decide on an activity.

I recently traveled to the coast of New England where I collected a variety of specimens of the colonial animals known as Bryozoans-epiphytes latched to seaweed in alcohol. Bryozoans have a lifestyle convergently similar to coral- tentacled polyps feeding from protected cases built from proteins or minerals, bound to their kin for survival.

I spent the next hour or so observing these organisms under the microscope. I still had enough motor function to operate the focus knobs.

I preserved them in alcohol and was elated to see that this preserved their soft bodies outside of their protective tests- it builds into a dizzying self-aggrandizing fantasy of documenting these beautiful creatures for some purpose of social capital; to show my friends that I have this unique knowledge of this obscure clade of animal, that I have the perception to see what they don’t, to bring it home and observe it in a way they can’t- I imagine myself as a performer, an intellectual influence, a sharer of knowledge. But it’s just posting on Instagram ultimately, it really isn’t that deep, no one is paying regard beyond their aimless scrolling. I am just a nerd posting on social media, but the elated mania drives everything to profound significance. I am a future naturalist influencer, I am going to work my way into the backdoor of zoological academia in the way I did for pharmacology and chemistry-it feels great to be boastful and confident, it feels great to recognize it as narcissistic delusion and to just not care, to just let it flow, to just let the drug take the reins. I am an arrogant upstart, but one who may at least get things done rather than my usual wallowing in self-pity. It’s all going to be ok! In vicious fashion.

I look through the microscope and see worlds and worlds of microorganisms, flash killed by isopropyl alcohol, frozen in their last moments, often with tentacles extended, tense, in a panic, beseeching the gods of the tides for planktonic morsels that would never come. It is dizzyingly beautiful and gratifying. I am washed with radiating fans of euphoria at the grandiose diversity of our world. Loud and fast and great.

My face feels entirely numb. My teeth are vibrating. My entire body feels like a tangled mass of tendrils blowing in a storm, anchored on my vibrating eyes gazing down the optics of the microscope. Currents move around me, tickle and nudge the tendrils about like a buffets of furious wind through fields of rye. When my mind doesn’t drift into fantasies I am completely present, mindful, my head is empty and I am purely engaged with what is in front of me. Perhaps a sort of dissociative Zen. I vacillate between looking through the microscope and lying on my couch, Knifeplay still tip-tapping its way along my nerves like a millipede. My mind is curious and prone to wander. I don’t know what exactly to do, to interact with. Thoughts race by like stock tickers. The whole world feels as though it is vibrating. When I close my eyes I see infinite streams and masses of regular forms moving in order like an assembly line, chaotic fiery, energetic, but at its core- everything in its place.

 

T2:20- I’m amazed at how immersed I was able to become in the task of microscopy. Half an hour passes like nothing as I am engrossed. It feels like the world has blurred and swirled around me, another moment of singular solipsistic might. I had the mandate of heaven to sit in a chair and look at tiny invertebrates.

I feel it physically. I am slow to react, clumsy and unsure of how to manage my momentum. My face and body are numb. I feel like I am a series of cubes flowing to meet the general form of my body. Sounds around me reverberate and pitch in different direction and scatter into the ambient background noise. An organized musical cacophony among the chaos of a wily and volatile experience. There is a sense of psychedelia in the thoughts, in undue significance appended to every word, every spot of beauty, everything I see in the news. It is familiar but quite different.

 

T2:30- I am playing Dynasty Warriors 3 on the Playstation 2 to pass the time. I feel unable to hold much of a conversation at this point, my brain is fried and steady. My spouse comes down to hang out with me for a bit and watch my play games, we make small talk. The act of speaking feels like a delight, but the constant motion of the experience makes it hard to focus on a conversation and feed into it reciprocally. I feel like I am sitting next to myself.

 

T3:00- The experience holds steady for a bit now, the most intense washes of the peak have turned dull, my baseline is all sorts of shifted but is comfortable and stable. I don’t feel like I have my motor control fully about me. I am now into the phase where I am falling into Wikipedia holes, reading information, passing time by reading more and more. It smolders very hot in my skull. I want to read everything.

 

T3:15- I start preparing dinner. I am making Plov, the Uzbek variation of Pilaf, with marinated fried mushrooms substituted for meat (I am vegetarian). It feels incredible to have a task before me. I am extra wary of the knife as my motor faculties have not fully returned. I lock into the task, running as an efficient and perfect automaton carrying out each action exactly as it is needed- or so I felt to myself. It feels so wonderful to create something. I check my spice blends carefully.

 

T3:30- I am still cooking, it takes a long time. The elated mania makes me feel like an artist, or some fancy chef, when in reality I am experimenting with a new recipe that I am absolutely liable to butcher. I flit around the kitchen listening to The Roots, picking out my various spices, immersed in a fantasy of cooking for a nomadic steppe warrior (whom is inexplicably vegetarian); a playful, childish rush of imagination joins the whipping storm of all sorts of intense and sentimental emotions drawn out by this drug, it is all burning with energy, the flames dancing wildly among each other, cackling and crackling like seeing a first campfire and being mesmerized by the flames. I wish I could run outside, pick up a stick, play to my imagination and vanquish imaginary foes. This would not play well in a populated city at the ripe old age of 29. There is a distinct downturn at this point, I am certainly in the comedown. The brightest edges of its flares have receded, the thrashing torrents are lapping waves. It is slow and gradual but I feel like pieces of myself are falling back into place.

 

T4:30- The rice is simmering. I have been sitting chatting with people online. I still feel a fairly intense glow, the fire is still warm and bright, just no longer raging. There is a baseline of excited mania now, I’m very talkative, everything seems significant and important. It feels good to flit around the kitchen and clean and cook. The discoordination that had ruled before has now given way to what felt like a perfect proprioception- an exact sense of how my limbs moved, where they were, how much tension was in my movements and how much momentum to compensate for each move. I feel sensitive to emotions and subtle cues in body language and tone like I am on psychedelics. The smell of the steam from the spiced rice creates synesthetic sparkles and confetti, the billowing steam is heavenly fragrant.

 

T5:30- Eating dinner- I normally don’t have much appetite when I take dissociatives but I actually did feel pangs of hunger on the peak of this one. It feels good to fill my stomach with warm food. I very quickly eat a lot. The meal turned out to be delicious and my spouse made a wonderful chickpea cucumber salad to accompany it.  

 

T6:30- The intensity comes and goes in waves. There is a steady baseline of mania but there are occasional upwellings of physical dissociation and dizziness. Everything feels important, everything I do feels important, everything I do feels urgent and correct. I am just sitting in a chair reading stuff on my computer, but it feels like what I must do right now. I am still quite stimulated, and there is still a bit of numbness in my limbs, but the waves of dissociation mostly pulse through my core and my face.

 

T7:00- Mostly down. No more physical dissociation presents, just a general sense of lightheaded and dizzy mania that still lingers.

 

T9:00- Pretty much back to baseline, but there is a lingering excited mania.

 

T10:00- Feel fully back to baseline.

 

Epilogue- The next day I felt a bit lightheaded and dizzy throughout the day, with a continuing afterglow of mental dissociation. This one seems to have a very long tail end, though this state in now way interfered with my functionality. It was a subtle focused hypomania with a touch of vertigo.

Conclusion: This is an incredibly bright and manic drug, It can travel far off-base, it can adapt to any situation, it is variable and customizable and pumping with manic euphoria. It can become arrogant, annoying, overloaded, paranoid and maddening. Life moves fast and hits hard when one is convinced their every thought is intensely correct. There are intense noticeable visuals, rippling as layers upon each other in cool colors. It is brightly social, though mania can also be a problem in social settings. It is a heavy floppy dissociative. It is a wild beast and hard to tame. It is something that should not be taken lightly.

3-MeO-PCiPr

 Age: 29

Weight: 140 lbs

Dosage: 40 mg intransal

Setting: Walking around my city on a heavily overcast late summer day. The skies were gray above and cold winds swept through preceding occasional rain showers. Eerily cold for early August.

[Immediate disclaimer-the dose reported for this report is excessive. I have developed a tolerance to dissociatives and I also prefer more intense experiences. For those first delving into this drug who have minimal dissociative experience, I would suggest a starting dose at 20 mg.]

Preface: 3-MeO-PCiPr is a compound I had dreamed about for a long time in my fantasies about structure-activity relations in the Aryclcyclohexylamines. To finally have it before me is a feeling like no other. For those who doubt its veracity, GCMS, HRMS, HPLC purity, and full 2D-NMR can be supplied to confirm the identity of this total novel compound.

 

You can skip the chem jargon if you’d like.

 

3-MeO-PCiPr is a totally novel exploration into the simple idea of modifying the alkane on the secondary amine on the arylcyclohexylamine (ACH) scaffold. Essentially any alkane can be built from that nitrogen, and Ethyl (as in PCE) and methyl (as in PCM, seen in 2’-oxo substituted compounds like Ketamine, DCK, 2F-DCK etc.) have been explored extensively. Each different alkane on the ACH base creates its own discrete category of ACH, which can then in turn be modified in myriad ways with substitutions on the aromatic ring. The PCiPr scaffold has so far only presented in the compound MXiPr, with a 3-MeO-2’-Oxo substitution. Non-2’-Oxo substituted PCiPr compounds have not been explored at all, but MXiPr is well regarded and well known; I personally find it quite delightful! The PCiPr series was of particular interest to me for no specific scientific reason- the structure just seemed to call for me on some metaphysical level. I had always postulated that the basic 3-MeO substitution that had been so fruitful with so many other aklylamines would prove fruitful here, so I had high hopes when this compound became available to me, along with a small handful of other PCiPr based compounds.

I found 3-MeO-PCiPr to be the most interesting, revelatory, euphoric, accessible, and balanced of the entire series. Others I was in contact with who had also gained access to reported similarly positive and glowing experiences. It appears to be active and equipotent per various routes of administration, (so far I have tried oral, intranasal, sublingual), with the route of administration only really affecting duration. I find it to be an excellent social drug, with full capacity to offer profound and introspective experiences should the set and setting allow it. Various doses offer various experiences- lighter doses, in the 10-15 mg range, give a light jilted buzz, like the world is slightly shifted. It is most pleasantly social in this range. Doses in the range of 20-30 mg are a sweet spot, allowing for socialization and disinhibition with a strange warm and heavy glow, while also offering substantial hallucinogenic depth when alone. Doses in excess of 30 mg are delightful and intense, even veering into being more of a corporeal dissociative: numbness of limbs, poor coordination, dizziness and clumsiness and floppiness and shrouded proprioception begin to present; the head space can be heavy and overwhelming and pass into a hole-like catatonia from the sheer sense of weight cutting into the skull. The energy is still high but the body cannot keep up, it is truly disorienting. Thoughts race and crystallize in bizarre unnavigable patterns that can be hard to parse or process. I am along for a heavy and gravelly ride. When it shines, it is a manic and functional dissociative, most comparable to the likes of 3-MeO-PCP and 3-MeO-PCE, but with its own character. It is heavier, larger, hotter, yet paradoxically gentler and slower than the electric rush of its compatriots. And ultimately so smooth, so subtle and gentle at first as I immerse; The effects will be described as follows.

 

T0:00- Dose taken intranasally. It is a crystalline powder that smells of ether. There is no initial sting or discomfort, but a seeping burn develops over the next few minutes, triggering sneezing and teary wincing.

 

T0:15- Effects begin to become noticeable. A bit of numbness at my very extremities. A lightness and dizziness in my head like a million particles are swirling around inside of the cavity of my skull.

T0:30- I have been passing the time watching YouTube videos of people walking around different neighborhoods in different cities around the world- enough dissociation has begun to set in to make this an immersive experience where I feel sufficiently separated from my current time and place. I feel spacey like my brain is being gently warmed by an infrared roaster. A sensation of TV static sets in across my skull. I feel jolts of energy traveling down my nerves into my limbs but I am content to just sit still.

T0:40- Feeling very spacey, I catch myself staring aimlessly at the things before me as light drifting textures drag waves across my unfocused eyes. My fingertips are numb and the tendons in my fingers feel tight and tense as they type. It feels like the top half of my head is vibrating to pieces in all directions, crackling and sizzling as it does.

T0:50- I decide to go out for a walk since I am already bored of just being cooped up in the house. The experience so far feels mild and underwhelming, a note of sensation on the back of my head and extremities but not much else. My thoughts feel focused and alert, but there isn’t that particular edge to them that comes from a more incisive manic dissociative experience. It’s an unseasonally chilly day in August, thunderstorms have been rolling through on and off throughout the day, the disorder of their tracks heralded by an aimless chaos of scattered cold downburst winds haphazardly sweeping the streets. The sky is grey, the air is thick with humidity.

I feel coordinated, there is a sense of plasticity in my being like I am a mannequin drifting through an artificial world. I am performing my task of presenting as a normal person outside but I am acutely aware of the fact that that is a conscious choice. I smoke cannabis out of my one hitter as I walk, each hit seems to breathe a bit of intensity into the experience like stoking a fire. Visuals are just a sense of flashing and drifting at the peripherals of my vision and the cannabis hits seem to make them seethe and heave. I am walking to a park where I can sit and observe the world around me. As I walk I wonder why the experience still feels so muted despite the large dose- it is something I can ignore, it is something that doesn’t demand my attention, and that feels disappointing. Have I really damaged my tolerance this much? I walk and walk ruminating; I pass a dirty alley where I once fled from the police and was sheltered by an encampment of homeless people shooting fentanyl into their necks, politely offering me some. I gave them a big bag of fireworks as thanks. My thoughts are racing, latching on to associations like that, traveling down the trails of memories produced by my environment. It feels like my fuzzy sandy brain is dispersing static emblazoned cosmic tentacles to touch around the environment around me, feed me associations and free flow of thoughts, rushing stimulating mania in a subtle form. Perhaps it is hitting me properly.

T1:05- I’ve reached the park. Everything is gray. The grey edifices around me blend with the different grey of the sky and the city around me climbs like great concrete pillars into the billowing stratus clouds of the heavens. I am on a park bench, people watching. Gusts constantly blow through, there’s the tension of the dark sky and the ominous winds and the heavy humid air that it could start pouring rain at any second. Everything seems agitated.

The drug rushes over me in sync with the squalls of cold wind. I was walking, it was shadowing me and it had caught up with me, I am drifting unknowingly into the peak like a boat about to pass over a waterfall. A stranger asks me for directions and when I talk to her it feels like I am physically casting my voice out into the air, an object I can see disperse and fade into my surroundings. I am lucid enough to still offer correct directions interestingly enough. My head feels heavy and dense, it feels like an entire sky’s worth of air is slowly funneling into it then rushing out every which way, pulling my physical sense of self into the gusts cutting around the trees. I am warm and my limbs feel pleasantly numb. They feel heavy and lazy. If I can get momentum going I can get my body into motion but there is a sedentary quality to this, contrasted with rushes of electricity and energy pulsing from my crown, down my neck and shoulders and spine into my fingers. My body feels still but my mind is fiery and alert, eyes darting around to take in every detail of the scenery around me; when my eyes focus on something it pulses and radiates. I feel so damn lazy. I feel content to sit here. But I also feel restless, there is energy bouncing around inside of me, it is not demanding or uncomfortable, but it simply feels polite to let it have some release. I am thinking of fantasies, desires come to fruition, the mad mania and euphoria of potential successes and victories. It is fun, it is happy, I am grounded and in control and have zero desire to pursue any of these fleeting fancies and I am content in knowing that.

I gaze at the sky, there are lights, shimmering pulsing textures, subtle and vague but apparent. They pulse in translucent washes of deep violet and indigo. Everything in my periphery is gently flashing and drifting in one direction. My head feels floppy. So many people are walking by but as far as I am concerned, they are as much a part of the scenery as the trees and concrete.


T1:20- I kinda have to pee so I get up and set off for the big bright flashing mall in the center of the city. There is an intensity that sets in when I sit still but I can just as easily break out of it, stand up, walk around. I feel like I am vibrating, the entire world feels like different vibrating components buzzing against each other. The wind slashes this way and that as I navigate the dense grey city streets. On a large open thoroughfare, waiting to cross on a pile of construction gravel, great trains of gusts trundle past, buffeting me. I feel like I am made of loose pixels and each gust pulls them further into the grey air, to disperse them amongst the concrete and grime. I am the wind, I am a core of a consciousness that is picked up and whipped around and thrown about the passages between all of the stark concrete buildings against that looming grey sky. I feel like I am being smeared as I move. My head is a swirling pool of hot water that sloshes about as I walk. I am thinking about the people I love, I have been avoiding and isolating from them recently but there is a warmth and compulsion to reach out to them and talk to them from this pulsing blinding LED heart of the city that we all inhabit, I think of them scattered all around this landscape, in their little homes and their little rooms, all clusters of right angles and cutaway diagrams. This is fun, this is warm, this is optimistic, and it makes me want to be a part of grand humanity.

Sounds that pass on the street doppler around me, flange and drift and reverberate and crystallize into regular patterns of blocks. It is heavy and sticky. I walk through so many squalls of people on the sidewalk and I don’t feel like a person pushing through the crowd, I feel like that grey city wind carrying me and drifting me about like an empty bag of chips. I am not a person, I am just a part of the environment.

 

T1:40- I am indoors now, in a mall. It is a new mall, that tragically opened right before the COVID-19 pandemic, which hamstrung much of its prospects. But by design it is unbelievably sterile and impersonal too. It is white and bright and empty inside, it feels like stumbling into a debug map without any textures. Even indoors I still feel like I am the wind, floating, drifting, rushing and grey. After I relieve myself I sit down to collect myself. I stop moving but nothing stops moving around me. It feels like I am immersed in a great rushing river, demanding that I move, demanding that I follow its flow. This drug moves the whole world around me. It is constant motion and a slow burn, like the friction of a meteorite burning up in the atmosphere. Despite this constant intrinsic energy, it is also remarkably lazy. When I sit I am sitting. Even though so much energy rushes through me there is no compulsion to get up. I could be content to melt into this bench while a thunderstorm rages inside my skull. A perfect balance of chaos and bliss, playing off of each other in a symphony of fireworks inside of a stolid cavern. I feel like I am baking. How versatile! It feels like there is a secret, ancient wind that has scrawled the surface of the earth like a constant tessellation of writhing angular eels, a relic from the Archaean age, a time of a heavy and still earth, and this drug has allowed me to tap into that, to be aware of that.

Centipedes run down my nerves (positive). The sounds around me blend and bounce into an incomprehensible glitchy cacophony. It constantly feels like there is something in my peripheral vision, but I can never catch it. This isn’t the licking flames of 3-MeO-PCE, it is being seared and baked in a furnace, but lightning can still be cast down my limbs.

I get up to walk and I notice that I am distinctly uncoordinated and jilted. It can just pass of as me being drunk or limping. Drunk in a mall on a Wednesday at 7:00 PM. What a rush though, there is such a pleasant euphoria, everything seems exciting, everything seems worth examining and addressing, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. There is simply so much world. I am constantly becoming the air.

 

 T1:50- I’m walking around the city’s Chinatown, the rush of people around me with so much color and texture on every side makes me feel like a flower floating on a river. I sit down and start messaging people because I want to just talk to people and check in. This is wonderfully social it seems. The buildings where I am now are all so tall and stark and blank. They pulse and vibrate against the grey sky. It feels like I am being buffeted by their waves. When I get up and walk, I feel so light on my feet, I feel like I am riding on a cloud. The world around me feels alien and disconnected, like I am watching all of it on a screen. And for some indiscernible reason that fills me with joy and wonder. The sky is sparking and rolling. Little points of light and color dot them at regular intervals in gridded patterns. The great wide sidewalk shudders before me. It feels like the world warps and bends around me as I pass it, all flowing and rushing like the confused stampede of stray winds that have been tearing through the city all day.

 

T2:10- I stop at a grocery store on the way home to get some home essentials. I am standing in the aisles mesmerized by the sheer volume of choice. I am in a daze and the entire place feels like it is vibrating and shifting around me. I feel like a rolling stormcloud bouncing around the aisles. After too much time aimlessly gazing at the vast quantities of visual information before me, I quickly pay for my purchases and slip out. A rainstorm has picked up, and the loss prevention cop posted outside the store cracks some joke about it to me. It feels like someone dragged a QR code across my forehead. Its definitely information but I am not equipped to interpret it.

 

T2:30- I arrive home. I feel like I’m melting. But it Is also easy to focus and bring myself around to do things and move myself competently. I can stop and let it settle in at any time though. This control over the experience is nice. The change of environment shocks my senses. The walls are flashing. The air feels heavy the structure feels heavy the vibrations running across my body squeeze in tight. I feel heavy. There are faint glittering tracers when I move my head, blocky and regular. Textures stream on the walls, quietly and privately. I feel hot and sweaty. I feel distant and heavy and amorphous. I feel like I am hovering and steaming. I close my eyes and see faint tracery of shifting, spinning, drifting patterns in the same cool tones as the open eyed visuals, despite the overall warm sensation of the experience. They are fairly indistinct, perhaps even less so than the open eye visuals.

T2:40- I start to play Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. I am on the last leg of the dreaded water temple. I trash Shadow Link with my Biggoron Sword and rage through the rest of the dungeon. As time passes the drug noticeably loosens its grip. The sensations are less holistic, there is less sense of the world vibrating around me, it is just a bit of dizziness and numbness and thoughts flowing like rivers as before, a charred daze. I am functional enough to play the game and work through puzzles and my fine motor skills are competent enough to do what I need to. I am vibrating in place but I am content to just sit still and let the smoldering energy flow through me as its glow very slowly dims. I am very hungry now, so I prepared a serving of spiced basmati rice.  I feel like an alchemist picking through my dense spice cabinet to pick the perfect flavors.

T3:20- Still playing while the rice cooks. I am coming down more and more which is serving me better in the game as time passes. It is a gentle and smooth and gradual landing. I still feel a tight electric buzzing in my head.

T4:30- I’m done gaming, I’m going to eat dinner now. The spiced rice was paired with leftover Paneer Makhani I had cooked 2 days ago, crafted with my own garam masala blend ground from whole spices. The food is delicious, I feel mostly alert and only feel a sense of weight in my head. My senses clearly aren’t stunted as feel I can register all of the layered flavors in the food. I feel like I could pass as sober speaking to another person now.

T5:20- mostly back to baseline still feeling a little spacey

T6:00- There is still a nice lingering afterglow. The physical dissociative effects have all but faded, but there is a pleasant mental stimulation. I feel articulate, I am talking to people about politics and political theory and strategy, I can hold the conversation fluidly and I feel like my thoughts connect and present easily. This is very nice and this phase of the experience would likely be pleasant in a more social setting.

T7:00- Back to baseline. Maybe a bit of residual dizziness and lightheadedness but nothing else.

 

Conclusion: This is a manic and functional dissociative that I find most comparable to 3-MeO-PCE. With that as a point of reference, I would say it is heavier, less coordinated, spacier, more euphoric, less insightful, more sociable, and overall less manic. It is smoother and more manageable- where 3-MeO-PCE has punctuated edges this has been sanded down. It is a universally pleasant and manageable experience that still serves appreciable depth and profundity. It pairs nicely with shorter acting dissociatives like ketamine or 2-FXE. It provides a pleasant baseline for socializing. At a higher dose it provides an interesting introspective space that could very well prove therapeutic. I think this drug shines because it is so versatile and can take so many forms at different doses, in a way that sees it offer different things to different people. It shows promise for other substitutions on the PCiPr scaffold. The overall experience I would objectively characterize as gently stimulating, gently manic, adaptable. It can be bent to the will of whatever is needed, in terms of set or setting. It can be intense if needed. It can be whatever the situation calls for. It’s a delightfully versatile substance that has been fun to explore in different contexts.