4-AcO-MET (Revisited)

I am beginning a series where I will be revisiting some substances I have already taken and reported on before. This is because I went back and found my reports on those substances... lacking. The writing was clumsy and they were sparse in important details, among other errors. (Some of this is addressed in the conclusion)(The older and poorer quality report can be found here). I figured I should revisit them and write a detailed report now that I have had more experience with this substance, more experience with psychedelics in general, and now that my writing and observational skills have developed further. I think this will produce a report that better characterizes the substance for others who are interested in this research. I plan on eventually revisiting other substances I initially explored and reported around this time period, particularly DPT and 4-HO-MiPT. 

Age: 24

Weight: 135 lbsg

Dosage: 30 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: Around the City, In my room

T0:00- Eat my dose. I am in a park near one of the major rivers that delineates the boundaries of the city. It is an unseasonably warm overcast day.

T0:18- Feeling tension in my jaw and my muscles. Chew some gum. I decide to go for a walk across the big bridge that spans the river.

T0:49- I am feeling chills and pangs of nausea. The sun sinks towards the horizon, muffled by swathes of vast clouds.

T0:55- I smoke some weed. I am not feeling too much yet. It’s getting colder.

T1:07- I am starting to feel the come up, energy buzzing up through me from my core, tickles of white-hot electricity, creeping and subtle. There is a warmth behind my eyes, my body is shimmering with energy.

T1:19- The wind has picked up, whipping and pulling at me amidst the cacophony of the cars below. This bridge would be a beautiful place to watch the sun set, but the clouds on the horizon have smothered the fire in the sky. The night stalks in on dusky pastels. I gaze into the concrete and onto mottled surfaces but there are no visuals to note yet. Still that glowing warmth in my core, a fire steadily glowing brighter and brighter.

T1:33- I am walking back into the city now, all of its lights begin to twinkle as the sky turns a cold blue. I feel like I’ve missed my shot, I would have loved to have been peaking right over the center of the river, watching the fading glow of the sky in a torrent of wind. I did have to pee really badly though.

The trip comes crashing down on me as I begin to immerse in the buildings again. It is an unseasonably warm day and many people are out exercising or commuting or whatever, joggers and boyscout troupes and all variety of families and passerby. I am filled with a sense of love for the entire city that I can take into my view, love and already mourning for when I will have to leave it in a few months. My guts crawl with discomfort as I am showered in cascades of developing visuals like giant flashing snowflakes pouring onto me. I make it to the base of the bridge and decide to walk down to the waterfront.

T1:45- I am certainly peaking hard now. All of the people going about their daily lives in the dark are so endearingly alien to me now, all of their music and conversations are glossy faceless intruders, weaseling into my perceptions and clawing to the forefront of my thoughts. I gaze over the water as rippling buzzing visuals form out of the city lights dancing off of the waves as flowing hexagonal forms begin to breathe in from the edges of my vision. Everything is melting and twisting and bending. It feels like some force is climbing up my body from my feet, threatening to lift me up and throw me off balance at any second like a great electric updraft. A great unease wrests my body, I cannot stand still for too long. Despite the discomfort, I am in adoration of all the lights and colors and motion of the world, in adoration of achieving the success of dosing myself with drugs on the internet. I set out for home, a brisk 20 minute walk on this warm night that steadily gets colder. The trip seems to dog at my back as I walk, occasionally overtaking me with a sweep and a swirl of colors and geometric textures like glittering fish scales. As I walk my inner voice sounds confident, competent and authoritative. I feel like I can just talk to myself in my head and get myself hyped up, it is an odd sort of inner guidance. My thoughts are articulate, my brain taking their tangles and laying them out in straight, digestible lines.

T2:27- I return safely home just after dark. Once inside, I immediately set up my room to be as comfortable as possible- dim lights, incense and scented candles, droning gentle comfortable music with a thrumming bass.

Everything I touch feels so comfortable I just want to curl up in my blankets and nuzzle around like a dog rolling around in a sunny field. I am thrashing and twisting around in what feels like a pool of glitter, sticking to everything and being strewn into the air which each move, shimmering as they fall as they catch the city lights outside. I just want to sink deeper into my bed, twist and feel its softness and textures as it entombs me, rippling me with comfort and pleasure.

I become suddenly subject to a distinct sort of visual- a rhythmic strobing light shining right in my face- it is as if an object is rapidly rotating at perfect 90 degree angles, with one face of the object a glaring halogen bulb. It is a feeling of car headlights stunning you, rotating through my mind. It fees as if an object is rushing up to me to flash a sterile glow at my frontal lobe. This effect persists throughout the trip.

The visuals otherwise are extremely bright and colorful and energetic, rippling with tributaries of flashing motion. They radiate off everything, sprouting and blossoming to consume my entire visual field, adorned with iridescent leaves.

So much electricity is chased through my body, I feel nauseous and restless and cannot sit still, which has me nuzzling into my blankets more.

The cognitive effects have me curling up on my bed, my head in my hands, contemplating and reminiscing so many thoughts and memories and ideas, all of them freely flowing into each other, rushing by me at a rate where I still feel like I can give each sufficient consideration. Every one of these thoughts, ideas, associations, are tinged with an almost pathological euphoria, truly “good vibes only”, where it seems like only the most saccharine thoughts can exist. I keep getting up to do things but keep getting sucked rapidly back into these tunnels of pure pleasant thought. The pleasant thoughts begin to form structures, each one arriving, being contemplated, then sent off to crystallize in an underwater crystalline cavern, formed from the finest gems, a great palace of euphoria, catching filtered prismatic light through its vitreous walls. Being sucked into such a place is frankly, unavoidable. The thrashing visual sensation continues nonetheless, as does the restless desire to nuzzle into everything. Amidst the ornate crystalline tunnels, amidst the chaos of the strobing light and the sense that something is perched, watching me, right in front of my face, is a backdrop of fractals and patterned visuals seeping in from every angle.

T3:00- I have rediscovered another favorite activity on psychedelics- using social media to do extremely deep dives into the lives of people I don’t know (mostly posting in special interest groups), watching the progression of their lives over the years, piecing together a story based on what they show and wondering how much it differs from their actual story. It sounds creepy but I have no stake in it beyond bearing witness. It is just fascinating that I can develop such a detailed profile of a complete stranger. I nurse a bowl of cannabis while I do this.

The overall experience has calmed down a little, its settled into being warm and luscious like a jungle made of opals. I feel glints of polychrome light everywhere. I am being massaged by electricity, no longer struck by whipping currents. I think that I am so happy not to be at work right now.

The odd strobing, “in my face effect” has not subsided, and it is frankly a bit irritating at this point, but everything else is gossamer pleasure. I feel so much love an empathy for everything around me, for this whole wild world, for the fact that I am tripping now. I definitely sense that I am just starting to come in for a landing.

T5:05- There has been a steady and gentle comedown, conceding to me the last taste of my favorite bits of the experience before filing them away in my memory. I decide to pass the time by trying to finalize and edit a trip report I wrote a week ago. I figure this would be a good state to read my own writing.

I find it verbose, melodramatic, and tedious.

The words are contrived and pretentious and I feel as if I am trying to railroad a narrative than just let the experience flow. I lean heavily on purple prose and flowery descriptions when I could just be concise. I know these are problems but I don’t know how to stop, in fact I’m still doing it here. Despite feeling harshly critical of my writing, I in general feel good and euphoric and otherwise kind and merciful to myself. Feeling absolutely jovial in fact.

I reminisce on the first time I took this drug, in my room at my old house on a lonely summer night. I laid in the backyard watching the hexagonal visuals dance across the sky, I retreated to the first sanctuary I built to be buried in incense and cannabis smoke. Dim lights, draped in my most nostalgic and ethereal and intimate music. I remember the gentle comfort, a dim light in the cold blue glow of my sinking depression. I remember the empathogenic effects, the desire to talk to everyone and express my love, and the sun setting on another cozy summer day.

The strong social empathogenic effects were noticeably absent this time around.

I otherwise talk with a good friend about geopolitics (This was shortly after the U.S. murdered Qasem Soleimani), my thoughts feel precise and my analyses feel solid and well supported. The conversation is high energy and enthusiastic.

T5:30- There was a party I was going to go to. The empathogenic effects are so lacking that I honestly feel too anxious to go to a party with mostly people I don’t know. Though there are people there I love dearly who I could cling to, I feel like being in such a crowded environment wouldn't be comfortable right now. I am in the mood to hole up for the night and seek some media that might be enriching. Then a close friend calls me over to her house to watch anime with her and few of my really cute and sweet and kind old friends who are always in an aura of love and comfort. I decide it would be a nice to go out and it would be a calmer more intimate sort of interaction, and it would be nice to feel cozy with them, so I  put on my makeup and gear up and head out into the night. Riding the subway there feels odd, I am not really rocking with visuals anymore but I feel burnt and stimmed out and hyper-aware of my surroundings. Some reluctant visuals creep around in the corners of the subway stations.

T6:15- I arrive at the house and am immediately immersed in the auras of my sweet and cute and beautiful friends. The house is warm but the warmth of these people makes me feel like I am basking in heat waves off hot pavement. I literally have a crush on everyone here and it’s so nice to just really casually hang out. We smoke more weed and watch the anime ‘Space Dandy’. The psychedelic still sits in me as a sweaty hypomania, easier social interaction and a general sense of smoldering euphoria. Repeated blunt smoking slows the machines down, and I find myself less able to hold coherent conversation, but the jovial energy still dances around with the lights off.

T8:15- The night winds down. I decide to head home via subway. The trip has mostly subsided. I get a second wind coming off the subway and decide to take a long circuitous walk home, taking in the beauty of all of the lights of the city around me catching the drizzle that has now taken hold. I am filled with love, I want to run around like a puppy on a big puppy playground, run, jump, climb, but mostly I just want to see as many little details as I can.

T9:10- I’m back home. I have to do things tomorrow, so after a bit of relaxing, I shower, eat some food, and then get ready for bed.

T10:20- Go to bed and fall asleep after about 30 minutes from some residual stimulant effects.

Conclusion: This report exists for me to provide what I hope is a more detailed account of the 4-AcO-MET experience than the first report I wrote. I wanted to revisit it when I had had more experience with psychedelics and had developed my writing/observation skills more.

In my initial trial, dosages were imprecise due to a poor batch of product. This time my measurements were more precise. Further, in my first trial I consumed the drug in solution, and attributed the fast comeup to the drug itself, while in reality this was the R.O.A.

Interacting with my own writing and meditating on my first experience with this substance underscored the recursive introspective nature of this trip and the ability of this substance to really bring out those qualities.

This experience did share with the previous one some distinct qualities (That I’ve also noticed in other unrecorded trials)- A particular strobing visual that seems to fly at my face, a desire to nuzzle and revel in tactile sensations, other iridescent visuals with a hexagonal shape, a general warm electricity. This experience differed in lacking the strong empathogenic wave that typically sweeps into the comedown, which the first time, felt as if I had suddenly had a booster dose of MDMA. Other experiences had me feeling extremely social and talkative during that phase- this trial oddly enough did not feature that.

My overall assessment has remained the same- This is a lovely introspective, warm, and amorous psychedelic, stimulating, flashy and at times a tad overwhelming in an intensely jovial way. I would expect a wave of empathogenic effects to take hold during the comedown, though this isn’t always the case. Visuals are fairly intense, geometric and repeating, very shiny and colorful. There is that persistent facial strobing but it can be ignored when lost in thought. This has always been a winner for me. It is highly introspective and offers lustrous tunnels of memories to explore and examine, all of them encrusted in rose tinted gemstones, a crystalline library of pleasant memories and sensations.

4-HO-DiPT

Age: 24

Weight: 135 lbs

Dosage: 27 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: In my room

T0:00- Dose administered

T0:22- Not feeling much beyond the typical psychedelic onset, a sense of anxiety and nausea and tension climbing my limbs.

T0:24- A distinct chill has set in and my limbs are being rocked by a steady wave of tremors, which is fairly typical of every psychedelic comeup for me. It’s like my muscles are being pulled taut and are quivering under the stress.

T0:49- This bears a mighty stimulant edge- I am so nauseous and anxious, so much energy is coursing through me, I am shaking so much that it is difficult to type. It feels like the trip is building but constantly eluding my grasp- I feel like I am desperately anticipating something but it keeps eluding me and postponing itself. I don’t know if what I am anticipating is some perceived leveled off peak or perhaps something deeper and more powerful. For now it simply evades my grasp. Visuals have begun to manifest, though they are slight and escape notice unless specifically focused on- concentric auras around everything, particularly in areas of high contrast, they are radiant and ever so slightly iridescent but they tend to fade into the mess of things. With my eyes closed, I don’t ‘see’ visuals but I can perceive the motion and energy of great, all encompassing images around me. It’s like the drug is challenging me to understand and utilize my senses in creative synesthetic ways. The world is doused in ripples and barely conceivable shifts in perception that I must explore and discover through comparative rigor. It’s not particularly rewarding but it’s still interesting and makes me seriously consider the interplay of my senses.

T0:53- I am shaking so much, moreso than with other psychedelics. It is highly uncomfortable. It continues to build up in intensity, not feeling like its leveling off at any point. I keep feeling like its going to crash over but it never does, it’s like music that just builds and builds without a drop or resolution. I smoke some weed to try and subdue the nausea. The smoke feels like it rises through my body like heatwaves.

T1:07- I keep fading out and falling into loops now, just spacing out and creeping through the same jagged landscape of parallel lines and concentric shapes as it vibrates and sears an aimless nothing with hardly discernible colors into my brain. I snap out of it and fall back in again. It is glittery and fun and euphoric now, with a distinct flash and fire and sparkle bursting over various things in my field of view as my eyes dart around the room. The visuals present more markedly now, still mostly concentric shapes, with colors radiating through them. No auditory effects to note. It feels like I’ve attained what I had been anticipating, a distinct peak of the experience, with sufficient force that I could get lost wandering the vast fields of forms and colors in my head.

T1:27- I am deeply uncomfortable and persistently nauseous. The rest of it is pleasant though. My head is baking in its own warm vibrations and I can feel myself falling into fits of dissociation within the vortex of its radiating energy. Open and closed eyed visuals are still faint and unintrusive. My brain feels like it’s working overtime, my thoughts and words are salient and articulate. I feel smarter and able to retain information better, but it is at the price of a deep, twisting, bodily discomfort. I just want to fade into the pulses of the drug and think about things forever, pick them apart and analyze them from every angle like I’m holding a beautiful stepped hopper crystal and turning it over in my hands. This isn’t demanding or forceful however, the thoughts drift by like clouds overhead, and I can watch them pass and pick them apart at my leisure, each contact sending a wave of iridescent ripples through the world.

T2:17- The comedown has been steady and nondescript, just a lazy drift back to baseline. I smoke more weed as I come down and it lulls me into a lazy fog. With many psychedelics, the most cognitive enhancement occurs on the comedown, however it seemed as if I had already passed that point and had drifted into a charred dullness. I was an ember coughing out its last wisps of smoke. The electricity and color has drained out of the experience, and all that remains is the dying glow of its radiant energy. The nausea and shaking still persist, but to a lesser degree.

T4:00- Totally back to baseline. Go to sleep 2 hours later without issue.

Conclusion: This substance was a fairly standard tryptamine experience, with the relative strength of the various sensory effects adjusted. While the cognitive effects were notable and heavy, the visual effects were light, manifesting mostly as colorful ripples. The entire trip was marked by ripples, with a distinct warm mental dissociation where I would find myself being pulled into the radiation of ripples within my mind. No auditory effects were noted, and the short duration was also distinctive. Nonetheless, this substance carried a hefty bodyload, with strong nausea and uncomfortable chills and tremors. The experience was overall fairly neutral and matter of fact, this is a no nonsense drug that appears and disappears with decisive speed and listless intention, leaving ripples in its wake.

α-PCYP

Age: 24

Weight: 135 lbs

Dosage: 40 mg vaporized

Setting: In my room

Yes, I am aware that such a whiny, melodramatic, and pedantic report will probably come off as insufferably nerdy to regular pyrovalerone users. Don’t know how yall do it, I guess it’s just not for me.

T0:00- Drop a couple small rocks (pebbles one might say) in a glass tube with a copper scrubber. I attempt to melt them into the scrubber but they are not cooperating. With a bit of work however, I get them to at least melt a little bit and stick to the scrubber/pipe. The crystals have an odor reminiscent of semen and bleach. 

T0:10- I’ve been able to pull a good bit from the pipe. The smoke is acrid and bears the semen/bleach odor even stronger. The taste sticks to my mouth and sinuses, but it pulls smoothly. I’ve been gently teasing it with the flame. Unlike other stimulants I have vaporized, there is no initial rush. I would scarcely say I’m feeling it at this point beyond being slightly more alert.

T0:15- Continue to whittle the pebbles down. They have now melted into brown clumps/streaks on the glass. I may have charred them a bit when I got too eager with the flame. The stimulation builds and builds with each hit, it seems to slowly creep up on me. I don’t particularly feel jittery or shaky, just a sharp, gentle, focused and warm stimulation with a touch of euphoria.

T0:25- I keep hitting the pipe intermittently for as long as it will still burn. It sets in incisively now, nudging its way to the forefront of my attention. I feel elated, fluttery and flighty, I feel so warm and sociable and want to talk to everyone. I message like 10 different people. I should know better by now, to not bother people when I’m feeling stimmy. This always happens, but alas, I feel an unquenchable desire to share my pleasant experience with as many people as I can. It has certainly leveled off at pleasant by this point, it is not driving or ferocious or rapid, just a nice euphoria being burned into my mind. Most of my messages go unanswered, I feel antsy like I should be occupying my time with something more productive.

T0:32- The pleasantries have expanded too much, too fast, they are cracking and giving way at their borders. A restless discomfort rolls in like a cold wind and sudden cloud cover smothering a sunny day. I begin to feel a tightness in my chest and a shortness of breath, reminiscent of my other (fairly limited) experiences with cathinones. It feels like I am constantly just gasping for air, involuntarily and repeatedly rapidly flexing my diaphragm. I begin to stim with my fingers, rubbing and pressing them into each other, as if I am trying to rub something out from deep within them, something I will never reach. I fidget and run them along rough textures I can find but nothing satisfies this deep set itch. I feel winded and twitchy, I keep hitting the pipe. It is hitting, but dwindling. I consider redosing, though there admittedly isn’t a strong compulsion to do so. Despite all the physical discomfort, I still feel very warm and social, I still want to expound the virtues of chemical enhancements to as many people as I can, and still very few people are responding. For the few who I am actively talking to, the words flow from my fingertips smooth and articulate. Perhaps excessively verbose, as stimulants are want to do. I feel so much pent up energy that can’t be released, like a spring becoming uncoiled in a confined space.

T0:40- I don’t really get much from the pipe anymore. I decide against repacking it as the discomfort builds and builds. It begins to chew away at the euphoria, withering it away like dry rot. My mouth tastes like bleach and semen and for the life of me I cannot stop rubbing my fingers on everything around me. I can feel my heart laboring in my chest, not enough to be alarming or worrying but enough to be quite uncomfortable. I can’t find any comfortable position to sit in, I feel like I am buzzing and hovering aimlessly through space and time with a mouth full of slick metallic robot jizz, and nowhere will ever be comfortable again. Conversing becomes awkward and I find myself struggling more and more with what to say.

T1:00- I could redose to stave this off supposedly, but I also do not feel like staying up too late. I find myself locked into indecision, completely incapacitated like a glitching computer. Some of the people I messaged earlier have begun to respond, but now I am frozen, no longer elated, no longer enthusiastic about sharing my altered state with them. I cannot hold conversation anymore, I am having a hard time piecing together coherent thoughts. Every word is overthought, overwrought, and incorrect in some undiscernible way. Communicating has become tedious and laborious. The aching in my chest and the strung-out restlessness in my muscles demands my attention every moment, to try and form thoughts around anything else is an exercise in futility.

T1:40- All I’ve been doing is languishing in my discomfort, thrashing around on my bed in various positions that will not satisfy the outlandish demands of my uncoiling muscles. My breathing is shallow and staccato, my heart pounds and my fingers cannot keep still. I have attempted one abortive task after another, but the tightness and tension that has encompassed my entire being pulls me away from anything I try to focus on. This is frankly unpleasant. I wonder if redosing would even curb this- I think I just naturally find stimulants to be fairly unpleasant. And then what, I come down again, and go through it all again? All traces of euphoria have been cast off now, now it’s just me and the consequences of my actions.

T2:00- Decide to take some etizolam sublingually to see if it will slow things down and cool things off. I’ve combined etizolam with milder stimulants in the past. This has yielded pleasant experiences where the drugs are foils for one another, gracefully filling in for one another’s shortcomings. I wonder if that will happen here and level the physical effects off.

T2:40- The two drugs have not gracefully embraced. Rather, it seems they are fighting for dominance of my central nervous system, grappling with a stark and sweaty and rippling tension that cracks the walls around them. I seem to have only really caught negative effects from this. My heart rate has slowed, which is nice. My breathing is still sudden and shallow, and I am still stimming my fingers uncontrollably. I seem to have really caught the dummy side of the etizolam- I frankly feel stupid as all hell. I can’t think straight, or piece together a coherent thought for more than about 15 seconds. I forget what I was thinking about or why constantly, my mind just wanders off, and not towards any particular distraction, but more like a child aimlessly wandering into a dense fog. This doesn’t feel like the suppressive brain fog that some drugs can instill however, it is a hot, swirling, all-encompassing, all-destroying stimulated fog, a fluttering torrent that has taken upon itself the mission of rendering me mentally feeble. I try to smoke weed to maybe douse this fire but it only seems to make things worse.

T3:30- I still feel my heart skipping and jumping, my heartbeat feels irregular but I don’t know if that’s just me being anxious. Thankfully the restlessness in my muscles has died down. The tightness in my chest still grips me. I think I am done with this experiment, I am getting nothing from it anymore. I was hoping the etizolam would lull me into drowsiness, but sleep is inconceivable right now. It seems to have whittled off the most acute stimulant effects, but there is still a burning ember that should be doused. I drop a couple drops of Flualprazolam, which has always been very hypnotic for me, onto my tongue, along with 50 mg of DPH. If this doesn’t knock me out, nothing will.

T4:20- Pass into an uncomfortable sleep.

Epilogue- I wake up the next day and all my limbs feel like lead. My chest still feels tight, I am very depressed and anxious, but not too mentally drowsy, my body just feels exhausted beyond function. This likely may also be from the fact that I had eaten almost nothing the day before. I manage to haul myself out of bed. Interacting with people throughout the day feels frustrating and awkward, my affect and emotions feel totally flat. I don’t really want to be around people I just want to be alone in my room, lying very still. My hands are still stimming quite a bit more than usual. I occasionally still feel twangs of tightness in my chest, sudden shortness of breath, or become acutely aware of my heart pounding out of time, like I am being slapped on the back by some impish ghost. This becomes less frequent as the day goes on. The acrid smell and taste of bitter chlorine semen still resides in my nose for much of the day, though I’m sure if I had showered at some point it may have helped it go away. I spend the night on a cocktail of dissociatives with friends, which seems to distract from a lot of the sordid energy that was wracking me.

I did not find this particularly enjoyable, I would still be curious to try it again in a social setting, but I am certainly not leaping at the opportunity. I wonder if the physical side effects I had were a normal part of the cathinone experience or if I should be concerned- I noticed almost identical side effects (though not as intense) through a mid-high intranasal dose of hexen. The comedown from that was remarkably less rocky though. I wonder if all cathinones would do this to me? I am once again, not rushing to find out, but it is something to ponder.

4-ACO-DPT & 3-HO-PCP

At T0:00 Both substances, 30 mg 4-AcO-DPT, 12 mg 3-HO-PCP, were insufflated in a single line after waking up from a nap. It was nighttime. I am in my room, comfortable, adorned, and familiar, awash in incense, dimly lit.

At T0:30, the gravity of what I have done has already become apparent. I am a mountain in a shower of light, erupting from the earth with the energy incurred by the first great accretion. I am a dam holding back many furious writhing rivers.

I take 1 hit of cannabis. The single burnt spot in the bowl looks back at me. I am flapping in the breeze, I am cold and wobbly, I feel like the inside of a subway tunnel at night in the winter.

Things begin to rot. The next timestamp in my notes takes place at 20 minutes again for some reason. I ramble about being unanchored before failing to type the word “broken” several times. The next timestamp, at one hour, is completely incoherent, aborted words and thoughts that couldn’t make it past my fingers. After that, silence.

The color drained from the room. It felt like a candle had suddenly been snuffed, leaving nothing but lingering smoke in the air. My visual inputs began to collapse and the world became an indeterminate jumble of forms that I couldn’t feel assed to process. I opted to just lie in total darkness and managed to unplug my lights. Sound became a completely incomprehensible force in my world, filling the coagulating air. All senses were stricken, chased from my mind with whips and scattered into the countryside. What sat in their place was a primal metallic corruption, every input blended and distorted into one sickly nerve that slithered down my spine. So without my sensory faculties, how was I to supposed to process

Chaos; it appears that my roommates had several people come to the house for an impromptu jam session, the incomprehensible silence of the night now gave way to a distressingly less comprehensible cacophony. There are voices outside my door. There are drums. There is a deep bass. All sorts of sounds begin to hammer at the walls, the fervor of life and electricity beyond my dark chamber- I am its captive, at the mercy of a broadening darkness with electric tendrils at its fringe, each one meticulously picking and prying at every thread of my being, the fabric of my reality fraying and collapsing into a tangle on the floor. It is a storm of infinite intricacy, a trillion forms each combined in trillions more ways, it is disorder that is physically impossible for my neurons to process. It seems like more and more people are coming into the house, more than could possibly physically fit, the voices and sounds and presences are multiplying exponentially outside my door, building the pressure, ripe to crack into my dark chamber at any moment. The presences coalesce, morphing together to form one sickening grand circus that sets the walls on fire, a million harlequins marching in a collapsing parade that radiates incandescent energy into the night sky, all of it perpetually stumbling and self-transforming. A vision so complex, so deeply varied and unintelligible that I am left listing aimlessly through its lopsided processions as they dance and tear the fabric of space apart in exultant hysteria. I begin to teleport around this world where nothing makes sense- suddenly I am at work again. Suddenly I am in class. Suddenly I am a stack of books on a table. Suddenly I am back at my parent’s house. My mind is projecting me randomly through my memories, thoughts and spaces that distinctly aren’t mine, dizzying and disorienting as I can find nowhere to truly return to. I genuinely have no idea of where I “really” am existing, I am paralyzed with fear. I cannot think. I cannot comprehend, all I can do is be at its mercy, everything is broken,

Debasement; More than mere alterations in perception, this is more than a feeling in me, it is a fundamental breakdown in the fabric of reality. I have done it, I have triggered the collapse and disintegration of the world, the madness that surrounds me outside of my room will soon be subject to the walls and the air and the sights and sounds of the world turning to grey and homogenous static and buckling inwards into a great void. I have doomed this world, transformed it into a solipsistic nightmare that is shattered from inception. I am completely alone, and the illusions which granted my solace and purpose before this have died and now decay around me. It is a virtual world, where anything is possible, but I am doomed to plumb the depths of its unreality as it comes crashing into what I thought was reality, infecting and necrotizing every bit of it that it touches and glitches out. What can I do but lie here in the dark, entirely still, and let the creeping absence consume me? Curiously, it rolls in asymptotically, always approaching but never arriving. It is a mindless tantalus, a hungering maw without eyes, and I seem to be perpetually out of its reach, I wish it would just come and take me rather than facing the anticipation of gazing down its toothy pitch gray throat. It cannot catch me, but I cannot escape,

Entrapment; I blink my eyes and suddenly come to from the festering cascade. The room is quiet, pitch black, I cannot read my clock but things have settled down. I have no idea how much time has passed, I have no coherent recollection of what has happened before this, whether or not I interacted with anyone, or any linear sequence of events. One moment ago, or perhaps an eternity of moments ago, I snorted a line of powder. The world is eerily still and silent, it is a deafening silence in fact. I wonder if it is intact beyond my room. I get up to peek outside but find my equilibrium is still highly disturbed. I wonder if I really have broken reality, I wonder if I am really in some purgatory. Then it comes back-a rushing in my ears, a slow crescendo of the noises beyond my space returning. The chaos, the cacophony, the shattering of my word, it all begins to crash back in, like a dam, leaking at first but soon bursting forth with a destructive wall of vivid, devastating hallucination. Was I so foolish to think it was over? Was I so naïve to think I could escape that easily? Just wait it out? No, it is back in force, the world heaves and dies again, and again, and again, sucking me down its gullet, only for me to be recursively devoured again within its icy gizzard, still never quite being completely consumed. There is always still a bit of me left to experience this non-experience, this raging torrent of despair and terror and deep debased discomfort. The recursions begin to alter and split however- tantalus, unable to entirely devour me grows bored, and the great forces or beings or non-beings guiding this experience turn to more creative methods of torment, for me, the Sisyphus being crushed to pulp and static under this great boulder again and again and again, each time getting stranger than the last,

Impersonation; I am seeing myself in the third person this iteration, my eyes are hollow and my body limp. I hardly recognize this person but I know it is me. It is a broken shell of myself, if it walks it stumbles uncontrollably, it struggles to navigate its environment in motion and in sense and in thought, it is helpless like a newborn. I feel its fear, its confusion, its struggle, I feel the numb dissociation at its extremities and I feel the disoriented deranged motion of the extra momentum in its limbs. I have no control over it, I am a ghost, an invisible consciousness separated from its body. But then what inhabits it? What drives it forward as it struggles through its’ environment? This I do not yet know, but it lives nonetheless. I am helpless to control this body, this visibly broken body. It leaves the room. It interacts with people, but it is disturbing, awkward, familiar but corrupted. It makes a scene, it causes problems, it damages things, it damages itself, it draws attention and scorn. I watch helplessly as this thing, this thing that is supposedly me, sullies my name, my body, my existence. It is messy and disgusting, I hate it, I hate that I have done this, I hate that all I can do is watch helplessly, and most of all I hate what has taken my body, I hate whoever is controlling it and driving it to do things other than lie completely still on my bed. And at once, I sympathize with it, seeing myself so awkward, seeing myself struggling to exist, I sympathize with its anesthetized and encumbered limbs, I sympathize with its inability to comprehend anything around it, the childlike confusion in which, from its point of view, it can do no wrong, but it does so wrong,

Pursuit; it has crossed the pale, it has crossed the line, I have crossed the line, this shambling corpse is causing problems and problems need solutions. Whatever inhabits that body has no idea of the consequences of being visibly and distressingly incapacitated, of being a cause for concern. But me, this disembodied mind with a shred of clarity realizes that this is coming to a head- now it pulls out its phone, now its texting people, now it is spreading its sickness far and wide. The world churns and bubbles beyond it, the bitter darkness outside turns its glowering eyes towards it. It was seen now, there was no going back. Immediately its minions began to flood the streets to hunt this body down, doctors in their white coats, EMT’s in their black shirts, police and parents and teachers and bosses and mentors and every authority that could threaten a stable and peaceful existence, every one that would want to persecute me for doing reckless combinations of obscure drugs. It dawned on the body that a disapproving world had noticed it, and panic welled up within it, panic struck whatever sentience was taking it on a joyride, and it fled. It ran, ran outside, bewildering those who were in the house, surrounded by a cacophony of police sirens and vultures descending on its decaying existence as the consciousness lost its grip and withered into the night. The body fled and fled, on autopilot, interfering with traffic, terrifying passerby, all I could do was follow, all I could do was pray it would resolve peacefully. More figures appeared just out of view, formless hulking silhouettes, looming and threatening and stalking, the paranoia of a city of eyes watching from the shadows, none of them with good intentions. They come closer and closer, all at once, all ready to snatch me up and punish me for my misdeeds.

            I am in my bed, it is pitch dark and silent. I am still a disembodied consciousness, and my body is still gaunt and pale on the bed before me. Its so quiet. Did none of that happen? How did I get back here? Had I not ruined my life? The body looks directly at me- what form have I taken? Can it see me? Have I manifested physically now? The body is me, it looks like me, it seems like me, but I’m me too, I distinctly remember dosing myself with drugs at some point, I remember the day that came before that. The body lunges towards me, it grips me with its bony hands and stares into my mind with piercing wild eyes, framed with wisps of tangled black hair. Its eyes are filled with fear, madness, confusion, and a deep sadness. “Why did you do this?” it seems to ask. “Why have you done this to yourself? What are you gaining? What will happen now? It’s all over! It’s ruined!” I try to flee, I try to phase through the door, break the rules of reality just to escape this persecution at my own hands. My body tears through the door, into the hallways populated with faceless shadows of people I barely know, shoving them aside to chase me down. I underestimate this creeping uncoordinated body and it quickly runs me down, corners me, traps me in the rules of its reality. “WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS” it asks. “WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO US? WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?”

            I am in my bed. I am in my body this time. It is pitch dark and silent. I am lying there, I can feel the fabric, though it feels coarse and stiff, and I can feel the cold air as it touches my skin. My heart is racing too much to feel any sense of relief, and as the infinite static and fractals and chaos bleeds in at the edges of my vision I know that it’s not over yet. The air begins to sizzle with a metallic twinge, every sound I make through movement flanges and reverberates, everything turns to grey and shadows begin to mob the solid forms in my vision, I have wronged others,

Malice; soon the shadowy blobs begin to form into deep cuts and slashes that gash through my field of vision. They appear on my skin and bleed indistinct black into the world around me, like drops of ink staining a sheet of paper. So much has threatened my reality, so much has made me feel like I had permanently damaged my existence, but nothing I had felt so far had reached the magnitude of this- my heart was beating out of my chest and adrenaline was coursing through my veins. My skin went cold as the shadows begin to form into one great dark spot in the corner of my room. It felt like a bomb went off in my head- I was suddenly stunned and dazed, completely blinded and all of my senses completely washed out. There was a ringing in my ears as my vision began to return, and I saw them. They floated and coalesced from that great pooling shadow, vaguely humanoid with 4 distinct bipedal limbs, coated in a metallic sheen, but otherwise formless and amorphous, exuding an aura of pure malice. There was no doubt in my mind that these beings wished me immaculate, eternal harm. There was no doubt in my mind that I was powerless to stop them. Had I tapped into some forbidden realm of consciousness? What had I done to warrant this punishment? They began to draw my consciousness from my body, sucking out my soul, leaving behind a withered corpse for the judges of our world to deal with. Their intentions were eternity, their actions would go beyond the limits of my consciousness, it would be suffering that I could never begin to comprehend before, it would be a million different sufferings at the same time on the same mind, they hated me, they despised me, they sought their own twisted justice. Was death total? Did death mean anything in their world? Was it an escape?

Death; what would death mean after all of this? I was already without a body, at points, and without a mind, at points, was it when they were both snuffed out? I lie on my bed and it seems even the ambient city light outside grows darker, casting longer and longer shadows until the room is nothing but darkness, stale and heavy. And the darkness sits on my chest, it crushes my lungs and sips the breath from the lips, and my heart wrenches and I cannot feel or move my limbs at all. I feel cold as the residual colors drain from the dark room and the edges fade in to black. I feel tight, withered, desiccated and imperatively still. Have I stopped breathing? Has my Heart stopped beating? Splotches of black appear in my vision. Is this death or the precipice of something even more terrible? I close my eyes and let it take me. The shadows smother my eyes as I sink into the dark like a pebble twisting and swirling to the bottom of an icy black pool.

In the darkness, darker than the darkness, it sits, its breath is heavy like shoulders beleaguered by an iron funeral gown, its form is the cold, the space around it dry and sterile, nothing has lived here, nothing will ever live here.

            This is what has happened. This is now my home, among these obsidian cliffs, draped over an infinite nothingness. I am not concerned or stressed, I am not scared, this is what comes next. When the cells stop metabolizing, sending nerve impulses, then, then they can’t find me, they can’t register me as an antagonist, they can leave me alone. I am at peace, death stops all.

            I gasp and come to, in my room. It is dead silent. I think I can read the clock. Maybe 3 hours have passed. I feel like I have awoken from sleeping for days and days. There is a weight in the room, my limbs still feel cold and dead and dry, but it is calm and quiet. My heart is racing. I need to end this while I can. Again the eagle comes for my liver in the gathering clouds but for carrying no light or bringing anything worthwhile to mankind, an absurd pity.

            Its fingers clutch my face, the cracks begin to form at the corners of my vision. I turn on the light only to be greeted by a field of alien objects which are entirely unrecognizable to me. Forms I thought impossible, mysterious shapes and colors that I cannot even wrap my head around interacting with give the state of sense of body. I hurriedly dig through my drawer to find my out- a small vial of Flualprazolam. I grope around, picking up foreign object after foreign object until one finally registers. I don’t even know how many drops I put on my tongue, I just pray it will smother that which comes for me. The walls are gagged but screaming, great dark hairy vortices sink into the corners and the world turn grey again.

            I wake up and come to again, in my bed. Was this all a dream? Am I going to be okay? Its still so quiet. Does the world exist outside my door? What have I gained from this? Did I have fun? Is it over? Is it over? I am a single mind and body now. My perceptions still feel on the precipice of disintegrating all over again. I just want it to be over. Oh god, I can feel my limbs dying again, oh god I’m dying again, the world ripples and crackles again.

            I wake up the next afternoon with no alarm wearing different clothes than what I was wearing for the duration of the trip/from what I had last remembered. My phone is hiding under my desk. It seemed I eventually blacked out, though I presumably retired to bed soon after.

            I think it is over.

x

4-PrO-DMT

Age: 24

Weight: 135 lbs

Dosage: 25 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: Around the city, my apartment

I had to pick up an online order for someone at the grand Macy’s department store right in the heart of the city. I figured I would dose, run my errand, and then walk around the city as I came up. I went to a nearby 7/11, got myself a drink, dosed outside the Macy’s and began the timer.

T0:00- Dose taken. I walk across the street and find the counter for picking up orders. Thankfully I am not feeling any effects yet. Unfortunately I find out the order is not yet ready and I will have to come back later in the day. Oh well. I decide to keep walking around the store because it’s warm inside and so very cold and windy outside.

T0:08- I start coming up, the first notes are felt as pangs of nausea and feeling ever so slightly lightheaded and off balance. An anxious stimulation and tension begins to build in my muscles. I decide to go hide in the bathroom for a bit.

T0:15- The world is rising around me in faint tessellated colors- for now, fairly subtle but still wanting to make themselves known. The nausea builds along with a sweaty stimmy discomfort. There is a general sense of unease relative to the world around me and I am anxiously hiding in a bathroom stall plotting my next move as it builds and builds. I think I am just going to rush out of the store and walk home, I imagine I will not be in any state to ride public transportation.

T0:20- I break out and start walking through the store. Standing up and walking catches me very off guard- my balance and equilibrium are highly distorted. I am surprised I didn’t stumble and fall. I feel so light and floaty, almost like it’s a dissociative. Despite this my chest and muscles all feel tense and tight. A psychedelic fog envelops the world, bending around me like a gravity well, its residual energy pulsing through my body and overtaking me. I float and flit through a fluid world bathed in intricate interlocking patterns of warm colors, trying to avoid the glances of strangers and hoping loss prevention doesn’t notice how anxious I look. I am sweating profusely but the doors are in sight. I burst out into the city like a bullet exploding from the barrel of a gun, into the shock of the cold grey windy November air, biting and dense with the odor of the city.

T0:30- The walk home felt like rushing through a billowing cascade of falling leaves, each leaf flashing with concentric neon colors. It was a sense of a busy world swirling around me, bouncing on frantic gusts of wind that battered off my warm glowing core. There is a low rumbling sound burgeoning in the back of my head as I march onwards, and the ambient sounds of the city around me ripple and bubble in my skull.  I slip in and out of crowds of people and waited patiently for traffic, praying no one would look too closely at me, see how sweaty I was, see my wild eyes, see my teetering off balance, sense my pounding heart. I wasn’t particularly anxious but there was a sense of urgency to return to the safety of my home and panic as the experience grew more and more within me. In motion the trip felt suppressed by my physical activity and sense of objective- however every time I stopped, it felt like it descended on me, crashing over me like a flash flood I had been slowly outrunning. Each time I stopped it came back stronger and stronger, and by the time I had arrived at home it had all but swallowed me into its twisting tessellated gullet. I had been overcome with its power and I was so glad to be somewhere warm and safe and familiar.

T0:50- As I walk up the stairs to my bedroom, the most notable effect becomes prominent- a sort of personification of all of the sounds around me- it is as if my brain is recognizing every bit of auditory stimulus as a sentient being. There is a sense of presence that people often carry, a chimera of their other senses that synthesizes into the idea of detecting another sentient being in their proximity. It feels as if my circuits have been scrambled and my sense of presence is being distinctly activated by my sense of sound. Each footstep is fluttery, jovial, laughing. The sound of my jacket rustling as I take it off is shifty and brooding, perched above me, gently watching. My sound of my backpack zipper is stretching and yawning and reclining in the aether. There is no other sensory detection of these sonic phantoms, just this distinct sense of presence and sentience. It is extremely weird.

Aside from that, this trip is extremely active and energetic- I feel like I am radiating heat and energy, and there is noticeable hyperthermia. Despite it being a cold day, I am content to sit in my room in just a t shirt. I want to curl into a ball and think and think and just emit fractal heat into the world around me, but I also want to zoom around my space as quickly as possible, bouncing off of the walls and vibrating the air to shreds. I am thinking about dogs a lot, about how their excitement and energy matches mine right now. I feel like a wild animal, frantic and high strung.

The visuals are kaleidoscopic, buzzing, stepped and zigzagged. They are dominated by warm colors and adorned with pulsing concentric patterns in stark contrasting colors. They too radiate heat and energy, baking and glowing like the coils of an electric stove. Every part of my existence is cooking with a splendid energy right now.

The trip itself feels active and alive and sentient- a trickster spirit lording over me, shocking me, glowering and grinning, it dances around me, casting me with ribbons of light and vibrating my hot hot bones to their core. There is just so much going on at once, it is not exactly overwhelming but is fairly mentally exhausting. But I still have the energy to enjoy it for now. I keep getting pangs of familiar feelings, hearkening back to my first ever experience with mushrooms, an overwhelmingly powerful trip that set the standard for the rest of my explorations. That was a terrifying and jarring experience by all measures and these little nostalgic flutters carry that same sense of anxiety.

The nausea is fairly standard for a tryptamine, though I find myself on the brink of throwing up several times. It is punctuated against a mild nauseous background. I almost threw up on the street several times walking home, but I can suppress it.

T1:00- I smoke some weed to try and soften the nauseous anxious edge. The visuals flare up and increase their velocity, and the steady burn of this trip crackles and flares. There is just so much going on that I really don’t feel like taking notes or stopping to think about it or type about it. So many visuals to see, so many strange sound-people to interpret, so much excitement, my mind is moving so fast! I feel like if I don’t fully immerse myself I am going to miss something interesting. I close my eyes and bake in the rays of the experience, I am greeted by a field of pulsing golden diamond fractals, rippling outwards into an oblivion, both infinite yet entirely encompassed by my nervous, darting vision.

The auditory-sentience effect is still extremely weird and I cannot even listen to music by virtue of it because it’s so uncomfortable. It feels fundamentally wrong. It is the same sense of phantom presences that other very high doses of psychedelics or deliriants have brought about in me, which is odd because otherwise I wouldn’t say I’m tripping extremely hard. These phantasms are very ephemeral, they don’t exist long enough to develop personalities or anything. They don’t necessarily feel alien either, but rather oddly familiar. It feels like an amalgamate glitch in my mental machinery, like assets from other aspects of my senses and mental processing have spawned in the wrong places.

T1:30- Everything has become extremely funny for me. This is an effect that usually occurs on the comeup of certain psychedelics, but it seems to be burning strong on the peak. Perhaps it has been here all along and simply made itself known as the anxiety slowly recedes. Nevertheless, I am cracking up at internet memes, I feel like I’m seeing so many layers into them (both visually and metaphorically). I am laughing uncontrollably at silly weird twitter tweets and at my own content, laughing until tears stroll down my face. I must look like I’m having a fit of hysterical madness. I cannot pry the smile off my face that impales into my cheeks making them sore. I don’t know if the experience is necessarily euphoric, it’s more that I am being barraged with beams of mad, unrestrained ecstasy, vibrating me into a tessellation upon impact. I am finding myself clinging to my space heater now as the hyperthermia has steadily slinked into the afternoon. I am curled up before it like a cat, laughing at my own thoughts as they wisp out into the rising warm air of the heater. I am content to languish here, big dumb smile on my face, nuzzling like an animal in its nest, under the watchful but tiring gaze of a million golden eyes locked in a warm incandescent fog. The same kaleidoscopic diamonds continue to radiate concentrically from me like pixelated ripples on the surface a metallic iridescent pond. I’m having so much fun doing absolutely nothing.

T2:00- The sonic phantoms have faded away by now and I can feel the trip cooling off. I bask in the glow of my space heater as the inherent heat and energy of the experience recedes further. I hang out with my big Millipede, Shoes, and let him run around all over me and all over my bed. I have such a big dumb goofy smile on my face, I am happy thinking about him and the little world he lives in.

An empathogenic edge begins to bake into the trip, I just want to snuggle up in my soft covers with all of my sweet pets around me and think nice thoughts about pleasurable things. I feel glistening and glittery like I am riding a warm gust of wind carrying a million little flakes of mica or maybe iridescent butterfly scales. I am so happy thinking about my little critters, I am happy thinking about my friends and people I want to be around. All of this riding the coattails of still fairly intense visuals and a persistent off-kilter dissociation.

There is also this pervasive sense of this asymptotic approach to a maximized state of goodness and comfort- I just feel like I can always feel more comfortable, I can always feel better, and its hard to settle with what I have now, despite it being absolutely ecstatic. It eludes me like a neon dragonfly darting away from a net.

T2:30- I fold laundry and watch Cowboy Bebop and smoke some more weed. I descend from the trip through a hall of crystals, their adamantine fire catching the late afternoon light and bathing me in a dazzling kaleidoscope of colors. But even this latent energy still pales in comparison to the overclocked maelstrom of the trip that preceded it. It is spectacular but relatively gentle and tranquil. I feel so pleasant, like I am in the right place at the right time doing the right thing.

T4:00- Things wind down further. Feeling burnt out like the last wisps of steam are rising from me. My brain feels like red hot metal cooling back to black. A headache sets in. I play videogames.

T6:00- Smoke more weed to see if it stirs things up more. It seems not to.

T7:00- I am almost completely down and am just stoned now. I go back to Macy’s to pick up what I meant to before, it is warm and dazzling but it’s usually like that.

Conclusion: There is chatter about 4-PrO-DMT being a prodrug to 4-HO-DMT, similar to what is conjectured about 4-AcO-DMT. I will say this one experience differed a fair bit from most of my experiences with 4-HO-DMT or 4-AcO-DMT. (Though to be fair it has been several years since I’ve taken either). Most notable differences were its short duration, the degree of stimulation and hyperthermia, the jagged and angular high velocity visuals dominated by warm colors and bright contrasts, the empathogenic edge to it on the comedown, and particularly, the very strange audio-personification effect, the “Sonic Phantoms”. I hypothesize that whatever part of my brain typically recognized and registered human interaction and presence had gained some sort of associative pathway with my auditory senses. However, some sort of ancestral vestigial relationship to my experiences with mushrooms was felt- there was a powerful sense of clear nostalgia and déjà vu and simulation of sensations and thoughts and flashes from my most powerful mushroom experiences. It definitely felt related in some way. All that aside it is a warm and odd little psychedelic that delivers a fast and furious trip that dazzles the senses.

4-AcO-EPT

Age: 24

Weight: 135 lbs

Dosage: 50 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: My apartment

T0:00- Dose Taken

T0:30- Begin to feel shaky and nauseous, typical psychedelic comeup. No other effects to note yet.

T0:40- Feeling physically sicker, with barely noticeable visuals as waves at the corner of my vision and muscle tension starting to build. I can feel my heart racing.

T0:45- I smoke some weed, the visuals start to creep out, but reluctantly so. They only manifest upon scrutiny and can be easily dismissed. The trip feels like it’s slowly seeping out like water under a door, shocking me with a stimulating energy upon contact. It feels very stimmy.

T0:50- Closed eye visuals flutter and flash in regular and harmonic patterns but are still fairly indistinct.

T1:00- The visuals begin to appear as pastel colored blocks and forms creeping into the edges of my field of vision. They are decorative and unobtrusive. The headspace has me falling into loops of daydreams and fantasies. The entire trip feels relaxed, loopy, and dreamy, with a crackling stimmy undercurrent, a dense fog hanging over a volcano. I watch videos of people fighting on the internet and become really hyped up, I want to fight people and punch things. I dance around my room shadowboxing and doing pushups for a bit.

T1:21- The visuals are tinged with blue flashing in and out of existence, swirly and lazy like they’re caught in a little eddy on a wide river in the summer. They are bathed in sunlight, a morning haze catching the golden rays of a sunrise. Despite the overall relaxed sense of the hallucinatory experience, I am so hyped up. I want to exercise, I want to turn my body into a weapon, I want to light off and fire into the sky like a rocket and rain down hell on all who I deem deserve it. I wish I had a punching bag. I want to be ultimate power, I want to shatter the world with the force of my will, I want my body to carry an impossible quantity of sheer energy. It feels fucking great. I am lifting weights and doing pushups and crunches and getting hyped on doing it, it all feels fucking cool. Not even like the sentimental loveliness of empathogens, but what feels like a genuine deep appreciation for what I’m doing and the aspects of life that appeal to me.

T1:52- It’s a short experience, I already feel like I’m coming down. I have spent the last half hour cooling down and playing with my pet bugs. I have a big millipede who I let crawl all over me and my face. His name is Shoes and his feet tickled so much as they crept all over me. I was driven to observe him as closely as possible, until I could see the little ‘combs’ of bristles on his feet that made him so sticky and tickly. I also hang out with one of my ox beetles, a type of Rhinoceros beetle, he was crawling with tiny mites that were just hitching a ride on him. So much life crawling all over me, so friendly and warm but also so alien. He clumsily bumbles around, his big strong tarsi clinging to me for dear life. I feel warm and fulfilled just interacting with them and observing them. 

T2:09- I am feeling giddy thinking about my bugs and all of the things they interact it and their rich full lives just doing what they have evolved to do. They experience the world so differently and are so accomplished at every aspect of their lives. Just lovely incredible creatures. This trip is definitely characterized by enthusiasm. I take a hit from my gravity bong, hoping to stir things up again. This ends up triggering the strangest effect-

It’s like the air has just been sucked out of the room. Everything suddenly looks clearer, like that languid pastel fog has been swept away. The visual are almost impossible to notice unless I’m looking at a particularly mottled surface. I feel calmer and more level headed, my thoughts flow normally, I lack that psychedelic hyper awareness. It seems I just blasted myself into sobriety. It feels so eerily still, especially with how much energy the experience was still giving off as it gradually smoldered out like a shooting star. It is a sudden and uncomfortable quiet.

Nevertheless, as the minutes pass, the trip seems to seep back in, almost imperceptibly, like it’s trying to sneak past me without waking me up. The haze of visuals returns like heat waves radiating off of everything.

T2:36- I am mostly down, burning and smoldering and simmering out for real now. I watch anime and laze around reading about things on the internet.

T3:30- The trip still lingers around, like a quiet guest at a party that doesn’t know when to leave. I am ruminating and fantasizing and thinking a lot and it feels nice. It eventually just merges into being stoned as I smoke more weed.

T5:00- I feel back to baseline by now.

Conclusion: This trip was overwhelmingly enthusiastic, though it was also overall unobtrusive and light in most other aspects. The bodyload was moderate and characterized by a rushing stimminess. The visuals were timid and accessory to the experience, while the headspace was also fairly standard for a medium dose of any psychedelic. This was most notably and powerfully characterized by a distorted sense of excitement and enthusiasm riding a wave of fiery stimulation. I was so hyped up I wanted to fight and run around until I wore myself out. It’s exciting and probably would potentiate the mania of other drugs a good bit. Lucid yet hazy and dreamy, and fraught with explosive energy. That all sounds contradictory but I promise it makes sense.

MXPr

Age: 24

Weight: 135 lbs

Dosage: 60 mg Intranasal

Setting: My apartment

T0:00- Dose administered, a fairly large quantity of powder which is very light and fluffy. It stings a good bit initially but this quickly fades to an aching discomfort. After about 1 minute its really not too bad at all. The chalky powder puffs up and coats my sinuses and throat, it has a familiar acrid odor more reminiscent of tryptamines than arylcyclohexylamines.

T0:04- This comes on fast. I was going to roll a joint and settle in but I am already feeling manic and wobbly and numb at my fingertips. My entire body feels floaty and light and slowly losing my equilibrium. I feel kind of queasy, not the painful aching nausea that comes with psychedelics but a sort of motion sickness queasiness. It’s coming on so quickly that I feel like I need to stop and catch my breath.

T0:10- After the initial rush, it’s building more slowly now, but the sense of dissociation is steadily burgeoning. I begin to feel pressure on my head, like I’m wearing a tight hat. My entire body feels wavy and queasy like an oil slick on the surface of rippling water. It feels like I am being enveloped in gelatinous tentacles that numb my body to its core as they enshrine it. As my familiar sense of familiar being seeps away, the gaps in my perception are filled with a sense of being gooey and fluid. I light up the joint that I managed to roll.

T0:20- This experience feels so floaty and ‘wet’, as though every part of me is flowing like a liquid. There is also a great sense of pressure- I feel like I’m being sucked into myself, the boundaries of my flesh are being pulled inwards or being pressed into the core of my being. The descent into liquid dissociation grows more and more by the moment, distinctly punctuated with the addition of cannabis. A more mature dissociation feels like its creeping in for a grand crescendo, coming in increasingly intense waves.

T0:30- It’s beginning to hit in earnest now. I feel cold while also being unsure of what body parts exactly feel cold or where they even are. It’s a sterile clinical sort of dissociation, touched with an abiotic sense of digitization and the cold calculated efficiency of a computer. Visuals begin to distinctly manifest as a brightening of all colors around me, with lighter tones on objects becoming vivid and saturated. It is like the entire world is glistening and glowing with fluorescent technicolor flashes of light. Everything seems to glow with an iridescent aura. Despite the impersonal coldness there is a distinct sense of presence, as though the drug has established itself as another being sharing my space with me. Not a particularly warm or welcoming being however.

The trip so far has a simultaneously radiant and glistening energy like a burning ember and a sense of stillness and emptiness. I can especially feel this from my sinuses as an unpleasant drip begins to harangue me. The glow and aura around everything I can see grows stronger and stronger, almost becoming blinding. I feel like I have to squint to spare myself from their intensity.

With my eyes closed, the visuals present as blocky and triangular, large swatches of color interlocking and zooming around. I don’t feel like I am in a hole, rather I can open my eyes and snap out of it and move if I need to, temporarily breaking the hold the drug has on me. I can get up and walk around and do things and it feels as though the experience has taken a back seat while I do. Nevertheless, if I sit still and focus, it returns in full force. There is still a sense of pressure, like the energy of the drug is literally clutching my brain, though it seems as though I can loosen its grip through sheer willpower. In the white spaces on my computer screen a flashing iridescent honeycomb pattern begins to weave its way inwards. I sink into my bed as a pattern of concentric levels of dissociative pressure stratify discretely outwards from my brain.

T0:35- This is so bright and colorful! It’s very fun out of pure novelty, though it seems lacking in its own inherent rushing euphoria. I turn my lights off and the darkness becomes dominated by shooting red and blue beams of light, collapsing into static stippling patterns. I feel so energetic and manic, not the sort of “do what you want without consequences” mania that drugs like PCP can impart, but a kind of “You can do so much in so little time” type of mania. Though I don’t particularly want to do anything other than droop and melt and sag and enjoy the flashy visuals and the neon green auras around everything. The experience seems to sit in the background, participating in warping my perceptions when I give it the opportunity to volunteer. It is by no means forceful or uncontrollable, there is no rush or intensity to it. My mental ability also feels dulled and suppressed, I mostly just feel like I am lying here with a blank and empty mind. 

T0:40- I’m radiating energy to the point that the borders of my physical being are evaporating and streaming off, swirling and intermixing with my environment. I feel like my existence is stretched over a corner, stretched over the apex of an angle. I feel so cold yet I am at the same time basking in the warmth of a twisting blazing spitfire of vibrant colors. This feels more anesthetic than most dissociatives- I can hardly detect any sensations on the surface of my skin.

0:45- I yank myself up out of it again, I get up and try to walk- my balance highly disturbed, but I am still fairly functional. I lie back down and sink into it again. The intensity seems as though it has begun to level off at a distinct peak. It is loud, flashy, ostentatious, yet gentle and almost impotent. This experience has entirely felt like I am on the precipice of something greater, deeper, and more intense, though the pale has simply not been crossed. There is a glow over the horizon, there is a glow just out of view. I wish I knew how to approach it.

T0:50- Feel a numbing buzzing in my mouth, like it is being vibrated into nothing. Can’t feel my teeth at all, just a tingling where they should be. I feel like I’m in motion even though I’m lying still, a familiar dissociative symptom. Everything I see with my open eyes is tinted a glowing green now, and my head is rising like an inflating helium balloon. On the smooth and mottled surfaces in my vision is an endless field of textures resembling cells, perfectly interlocked. The extremities and apices of my body glow like St. Elmos fire, casting a ghostly light into the night. The night is a monolithic wriggling and writhing darkness that closes in on me, an unctuous medium that threatens to envelop me in the chaos it contains in cryptic infinitum. Blocks and dark shapes lurk ambiguously at the tingling corners of my vision, moving freely in the nearly-indiscernible static that encroaches inwards on my field of view. My feet feel like yarn, I do not know if I could easily stand up anymore. I can still pull myself out of the experience at will though, at least mentally, which seems to also dampen the sensory effects. But I’m enjoying myself and feel no need to do this. Concentric ripples begin to spread and collide and interfere with one another, filling my vision with their gentle distortion. My notes have become noticeably incoherent and typo-ridden at this point, suggesting an increasing mental and physical impairment.

T1:00- It somehow becomes even more. I underestimated this compound, it has metamorphosed from a gentle fleeting sort of experience into a more comprehensive hallucinatory dissociative trip. It feels like a brush that has swept my entire existence across the floor in one big smear. It is cold, it is massive yet rises and floats with an incredible evacuative energy like an explosion of helium. There is such an immense pressure enveloping me, my head feels like it’s shaped like a cylinder, and the prevailing sense of the experience becomes one of hollowness, of a great cold void inside of all things, vacuous and breezy like a gaping icy maw in the endless darkness of space. It is a trip that is dense and massive in its emptiness, like a puddle of tar engulfing me in zero gravity.

The closed eye visuals present like great tendrils swirling in a spiral around me. They vibrate across my body, they carry it through time. I feel like I am a brick arch spanning a river.  I feel like I am floating on a boat on a very still pond at night, illuminated by the silvery moon, with a distinct chill in the air. The waves of numbness tingle across my body rhythmically as a dense mental dissociation wraps me in its umbral legs like a great spider, my entire sense of self melting and drooping at every point of contact with its slick chitin. It wraps me up and draws me into the abyssal cavern of the empty sky, illuminated by flashes of fiery crackling green. I am still cold and shivering. All of my cells become alight with freezing green fire, casting my form into the void in an atomized jet. The particles rise ever upwards, coalescing into interlocking triangles, amidst a backdrop of collages pulled from my recent memory, sights I saw in my waking day as I walked around the city, interspersed with imaginary landscapes of pinnacles of twisted black rock against a violet night sky. The images collapse into a dense collection of branching fronds that withdraw and recede into the hollow darkness. I am nothing again before the darkness itself collapses back into explosive and frenetic color and energy.

T1:05- I let myself immerse in the experience. It is nice to have this degree of control. The images are ornate, great green and gold arches woven from swirling immaculate latticework, reminiscent of the shiny exoskeletons of insects. Basking in these images is a blissful paralyzing serenity, one which crawls across the sky in an aurora of blue and violet. The entire experience feels so clean and clear and cogent, despite my heavily dulled mind. I am being tossed about by waves over an immense ocean with my head above water the entire time. It is deep and dark and so comprehensive in its power. It  doesn’t carry the crushing force or the sheer momentum and magnitude that other dissociatives can carry, in my ability the willfully pull myself from the experience , it feels neutered on more derived and fundamental levels and it feels almost virtual. It is a dissociative shell around a great emptiness, it is being weightless in the void as you ripple through its boundaries. I can still get up and walk if I want to it turns out. I venture out into the dark hallway outside of my room and the walls are covered in images in blue relief. They appear as great human faces, though totally alien and soulless like statues. Toothy mouths flash in and out of existence in the darkness. I have been noticeably nauseous for the entire experience.

T1:15- It loses momentum and begins to collapse. It feels fleshy and awkward and it begins to wheeze and heave as it trips over itself and tumbles down into oblivion. It fades out, though my extremities and joints still feel particularly numb. Iridescent forms flash in and out of the edges of my vision as the dull visuals that populated everything I saw began to recede.

T1:26- I am just lying completely still. It is very easy to be immobile. The remnants of the trip swirl and dance around me as they fade into the night. Some of the more energetic and manic dissociatives lend a sort of mental acuity on the comedown, but my brain mostly just feels dumb and blank right now. It's hard to form thoughts or react to things, it just feels totally apathetic and anhedonic.

T1:40- Mostly just feeling the physical impairment now. I am still unsteady on my feet and feeling very numb and wobbly and cold. I am still getting bits of drip too, even though the experience has mostly phased out. Everything still has a slight coronal glow around it, and everything looks slightly lit from below with subtle green light.

T2:00- I feel like I am mostly back to baseline. Still feeling slow and dulled.

T2:40- Definitely entirely back to baseline save for a residual sense of mental dissociation, a slight numbness in my extremities, and a barely discernible loss of equilibrium. These persist to a point of being just barely perceptible until I go to sleep.

T5:00- Go to sleep without issue. Wake up feeling normal.

Conclusion: Short sweet and intense yet hollow. With any new dissociative that appears on the market, there is a temptation to draw comparisons to the dodo bird of dissociatives, the elusive and much revered MXE. I will say they are hardly comparable. MXPr lacks the weight and force of other arylcyclohexylamines, there seems to be no "core" to it. It feels like a dissociative shell over a great hollow nothingness. It is surprisingly lucid despite its intensity at points, and I found myself able to pull myself in and out of the experience at will. It lacks the euphoric rush of other dissociatives, and while manic at times, it is not the fiery mentally stimulating mania that can be found with the others, it's a light and floaty sort of mania. There isn't as much mental acuity or enhancement or introspection, but rather in line with that hollow feeling, it feels like it instills a sort of dullness and mental impairment, like my brain has become empty too. The physical effects are strong, with noticeably acute anesthesia and loss of balance, though even these can be suppressed with enough focus. It's hard to say if I was in a hole state or not due to the degree of control I maintained for the entire experience. Later tests with higher doses (up to 100 mg intranasal) proved more difficult to control but it was still possible. Also of note is that it induced nausea to a degree not usually felt with dissociatives. It is also remarkably pretty and visual compared to other dissociatives, with lots of of vibrant colors adorning everything in my open eyed field of vision. It seems to instill a sort of hallucinatory light, with bright colorful glows and auras around everything. The visuals are fairly detailed and the imagery forms as tendrils and patterns and pareidolia, reminiscent of psychedelics. It has a sort of 'cyberpunk' character and it would be a fun drug  character to take at a dark club or festival or show, and it would be super interesting to see how it does in combination with other drugs. Overall, it is a short and at times fairly lucid and clean experience lacking in stimulation or euphoria or weight, but with a good degree of physical dissociation and vibrant and intense colorful, flashy visuals.