PiPT

 Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 30 mg vaporized

Setting: My house

Preface: PiPT is an unsubstituted base tryptamine, composed of a propyl and an isopropyl group paired with each other on the ethylamine. This is seen in its name, which follows the basic tryptamine naming convention of combining the names of the carbon chains on that ethylamine (e.g. MET is methyl-ethyl tryptamine; PiPT is propyl-isopropyl tryptamine).

While there are a handful of scattered older reports PiPT and its analogues didn’t reach the general public until the last few years. Currently on the market are 4-HO-PiPT and 5-MeO-PiPT. I have only sampled 4-HO-PiPT, which was an interesting little chemical, short but visual, dazzling, and quite intense. It’s impossible to discern any common qualities of the base compound or any of its other analogues from only having tried just one member of the compound’s family. Thus I had no idea what to expect out of base PiPT at all, beyond the dose and duration.

The sample came to me in the form of a solid chunk of sticky tan wax. It was somewhat malleable but would crack and crumble with enough force. It was quite tacky and most of it stuck to the bag. My house is fairly cold so I wonder if it would be more workable if warmed up even to body temperature.

I should also mention that this was the fumarate salt, as this was the only form in which this compound was available. I was too lazy to make it into a freebase. The oft repeated axiom is that one should never vaporize a fumarate, as partial combustion of the free fumaric acid will produce the toxic maleic anhydride. I find this supposed risk to be entirely overblown and is just parroted by people without much thought. While maleic anhydride can be an irritant and is hazardous in large doses, the quantity that would be produced by vaporizing 30 mg of a fumarate salt is so small as to be almost entirely negligible in terms of health. Of course, the best amount of exposure to maleic anhydride is none at all, but I considered the issue and decided it was within an acceptable level of risk to me. I noted nothing that would indicate that I had consumed some extraneous toxin beyond the occasional harshness of the smoke, something that can come from combustion of nearly anything. The weight of the fumarate salt also results in a slight loss of potency relative to the freebase. Thus, a dose of the freebase may be slightly lower than the dose listed here.

There is a tl;dr conclusion of the effects at the end of the report. This report is short- it was a short and fairly mild experience though I see no value in pushing for a higher dose than this.

 

T0:00- I am kicked back on my couch, an oil burner style pipe in hand. The compound is in the form of a sticky wax. It quickly melts to a puddle, I tease the flame and get swirls of vapor, it goes down remarkably smoothly. There is that expected tryptamine flavor, some composite of burning plastic or scatole or burnt pumpkin. The first two hits aren’t too big but I am already feeling a stimulated buzz- though this could be placebo. I continue to nurse my puddle and tease the flame and wick vapor off bit by bit.

 

T0:08- I am still running down the little puddle that’s formed, chasing vapor from its fringes. I am beginning to see a lot of grainy multicolored visual snow and there is a tightly wound tension in my muscles, like they are bound in great green ropes, pulling ever tighter.

There is a bit of a cramp in my abdomen. The flavor sticks to my throat and my muscles are beginning to tremor and shake, a sure sign of my serotonin going off-kilter

 

T0:14- My heart is racing faster and I feel a bit sweaty. I continue to cook the pipe as my head is swimming and spinning around me, the world pulsing on my skull. I burn some of the compound, there’s a few rough hits, some coughing. All the gifts of pyrolysis hit my lungs. There is a welling, punching nausea, but not much else to say. I get a shiver.

 

T0:17- I have finally gotten the last of the chemical from the pipe, my technique could use some work. I put my paraphernalia aside and lie back and stretch out. Beads of tactile euphoria pulse down my neurons as I stretch, a pleasant, body-affirming and grounding feeling. Stretching and reclining in the full sun on the couch right now is heavenly, I am bathed in gold. There are no visuals to speak of beyond some visual snow, but the corners of my vision now buzz with increased energy, the snow vibrating faster and faster. Stretching and languishing feels good but there is a tick, an energetic compulsion to do something else. There is a restlessness strung between the cozy valleys of this compound.

 

T0:20- I step into the backyard, I smoke a few hits of cannabis, it is bitterly cold outside and the wind sweeps the leaves in vast swaying arcs. The sky pulses on me, as if the weight of the great grey above me cannot fully be processed. My eyes bounce around excitedly to take in my surroundings, take stock in the grounded beauty of these great heavy buildings stark against the grey sky, the littlest visual ripples and pulses feeding added depth to the image. In the visual aspect, there was no color to speak of, just a sense my eyes framing my surroundings as ideal and perfect compositions, each radiating their latent energy of aesthetic perfection as concentric heat waves, warbling my vision.

The cannabis softens the edges, it sands off the restlessness, soothes my abdomen, files down all the jagged points.

I am grinding my jaw a great deal so I chew some gum and then go back inside.

 

T0:28- I fall into reading my own writing, shiftless navel-gazing; It comes off as strange and foreign, like hearing a recording of my own voice. Do I really sound like this? Do I really present like this? What image of myself is projected in this writing? My thoughts flow freely like a swarm of eels slipping past each other in the ocean with frictionless resolve. Every new thought blossoms like a rapidly growing mushroom-I want to tend to it but- another flush has miraculously instantly sprouted elsewhere! Ideas bubble and burgeon, thoughts generate with excitement, but the flow is interrupted, it dams up, a crystalline stream adorned with the floating petals of thoughts reaches an obstacle, it is me. It is my languid, tired mind damming the stream, the bubbling thoughts clustering and accumulating as they falter against me, my strung-out brain only really able to lazily pluck one or two thoughts to examine and process. My brain is giving me a lot of things to work with, my brain is also not in the mood to work with anything. It feels tired. It feels like wasted energy. The flow of thoughts is an auroral torrent in the sky, but I am a tired mind that can only stare lazily at their beauty.

I decide to slow down, close my eyes, see what a less sensory space may bring me-

Few visuals form, those that do look like stains, scratches, scuffs and scrapes, there are forms but they are vague and indistinct, distant and foggy. There are no patterns, no rhyme, no reason, a seeming wastebin of discarded visual information. I open my eyes and I am back in the same room. It looks the same, not much to note. Open eyed visuals are probably indistinguishable from my background HPPD.

 

T0:38- This feels like the plateau of a peak. Nothing more builds, everything has presented itself in full. I go upstairs and hang out with our new kitten, he's small and wily and mischievous.  No issues with mobility or motor control. I feel like I am in a certain psychedelic headspace, analytical, verbose, a clearly articulated inner voice. The experience ultimately feels very neutral.

T0:47- The cat is cuddled up against me, he’s young and cuddly and extremely affectionate, this is so delightful. He sits on my chest and purrs. I’m flooded with feelings of love and adoration, I close my eyes and only see dim swirling lights, I am so sublimely comfortable.

I am fully coherent and cognizant, I can read and comprehend, I have just been reading news stories from around the world and reading about geopolitics. Covid is still spiking in my region, joyous. The new variant lurks over us all.

There’s very little good news but I don’t really care, this moment is blissful, overwhelmingly tranquil and positive. I am here, listening to music I love on a nice big soft bed, I am exploring the wonders of a novel psychedelic, I am flush with the swirling thoughts this compound has imparted to me; The sun is shining through the blinds, casting patterns that shimmer in the serotonin fog. There is an adorable little animal snuggled up against me. All feels right. I close my eyes and the visuals are now great sweeps of colors, pulsars flooding me with movements of blue and movements of red, great and luminescent and impossibly vast. Great indistinct forms like great colors drift above me like airships in the sky.

 

T1:00- The overall intensity of the experience has taken a definite step down. Nausea persists and rises again, I am cuddling with the cat, everything is gentle and hanging low like a soothing fog. My body still feels tense and pulled tight. The already light visuals have faded to be near indistinct.

 

T1:12- Feeling the experience as little more than mental stimulation and muscle tension.

 

T1:35- Another wave of nausea builds, another round of tension and discomfort. It is mostly on its way out now though

 

T2:30- Almost entirely back to baseline.

 

Conclusion: I find most base tryptamines to be short and mild and fairly difficult to adequately describe, often lacking in visuals or much depth, just mysterious little cousins to their more traditionally psychedelic analogues (There are of course exceptions, like DiPT or DPT). PiPT however, was no exception to this. It was a mild and manageable experience, almost devoid of visuals with an induced laziness. It left me in a languid haze punctuated with flashes of nervous energy and tension. While being fairly mild and dull, there were also moments of bliss, euphoria, and profound contentment. All of these qualities would come and go and ebb and flow across the 2-and-a-half-hour duration of the experience. Perhaps a surprising amount of variation for such a short amount of time, but even then, these changes were slight and subtle and strayed little from the base character of this compound: a quiet and tame neutrality. I don’t think there is much value in going beyond a dose this high, my racing heart and nausea told me that there were likely diminishing returns beyond this point, though perhaps I am wrong about that. I see no need to revisit this any time soon except perhaps in combination with other compounds.

 

 

3-Me-PCE

 Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 15 mg intranasal

Setting: My house

 

Preface:  The design for 3-Me-PCE is a straightforward low-risk bet for an active arylcyclohexylamine. Basic structure-activity relations dictate this, this is clear from a glance at related compounds like other 3-methyl substituted arylcyclohexylamines and other PCE-based compounds. This likely was developed to plumb replacements for 3-MeO-ACH’s, whose future is in question with looming bans. 3-Me-PCE joins a whole suite of 3-Methyl substituted compounds that have been developed in the last few years, entering the ranks of compounds like DMXE, 3-Me-PCP, and 3-Me-PCPy, which could be considered 3-methyl analogues of the better known MXE, 3-MeO-PCP, and 3-MeO-PCPy. It is also a PCE-based compounds, similar to MXE, DMXE, 3-MeO-PCE, and 3-HO-PCE. It is in my opinion, in good company among these ranks.

Worth a quick mention is the relationship between 3-MeO compounds and their 3-Me counterparts. In my experience, there is an apparent relation between the two, with the 3-Methyl versions tending to be shorter in duration, more potent, ‘shallower’, less insightful, and more euphoric and hedonistic than their 3-MeO cousins. This pattern certainly holds true for 3-Me-PCE when compared to 3-MeO-PCE.

3-Me-PCE is predictably short acting, stimulating, manic, and euphoric. I found it made for an excellent party and social drug, I found it wonderful for any high-activity setting, even just going for a long walk. It is perhaps not well suited to just sitting inside. It is remarkably potent, with a steep dose-response curve. I found that 15 mg intranasally was my upper limit, anything beyond that was confusing and overly disorienting. This report covers that dose, what I would consider a high dose for any person- this drug serves its purpose perfectly well at lower doses and is much more manageable that way, probably in the range of 10-12 mg. The powder is exceptionally caustic- I mainly dosed it intransally. A sublingual dose did quite a number to my mucous membrane and I would absolutely not repeat that as an ROA- I found it less potent when taken sublingually or orally anyways. While snorting it is no picnic either it is manageable with a saline rinse and the pain fades quickly. Overall it is a fun little casual-use compound, the short duration is really a plus in situations where I can’t commit to something with longer legs like 3-MeO-PCP or 3-MeO-PCE.

 

T0:00- Dose taken intranasally, it stings a lot. This is a pretty caustic substance. My eyes are watering and I am wincing in pain. It fades quickly though.

 

T0:10- Onset, feeling a bit lightheaded and dizzy. Feeling it entirely within my skull for now. I am just hanging out with my partner while they get ready or bed.

 

T0:12- This accelerates so rapidly, I am feeling all of the burgeoning dissociative sensations more intensely in just a span of 2 minutes- what a rush! It is such a sudden sense of dizziness and spaciness, of numbness in my extremities. It feels like I am hanging on the outside of a speeding vehicle, all I can do is sit there and ride it out as the room spins around me, clinging for dear life on a hurtling and disorienting ride. I find myself unable to engage in many other tasks. I feel like I am being baked in the glaring heat of a solar lamp.

 

T0:15- The rush is something unparalleled. In just a span of 3 more minutes it seems to build impossibly high, gaining momentum that was inconceivable just minutes before. I am grateful I am strapped in and prepared for this. Such excitement! My heart races.

I am rewatching scenes from Indonesian action movies I have been obsessing over lately (eg; The Raid: Redemption, The Night Comes for Us, etc.)- they are raw, gritty, and giga-violent, some of the goriest and most unrelentingly brutal media I have ever seen. The fight choreography is sublime, fast, visceral, and viciously intense. The speed and fury of these movies resonates with my experience as I take in these heart pounding scenes of unthinkable violence. Thoughts flow quickly into one another in an electric mania, my mind effortlessly dances from one topic to another through vague association- I think about how much my Malay cousins would love that kind of movie, and then I am obsessed with visiting the old country, the markets where we would buy cheaply made bootleg DVD’s, how much I want to take my partner there with me… They said I have become irreverently chatty, typical of my behavior during a dissociative comeup (and in conflict with the fact that they’re about to go to bed).

 

T0:30- Yes this is a bit much. I am maybe a little overwhelmed now, grateful for a controlled setting and my home comforts. My heart is pounding, the room spins ever faster, my muscles feel tense and I can only type in a disjointed staccato. The visuals sear into my eyes, the world flashing and strobing with the heat of a pulsar, vague swirling forms cooking in at the edges. It’s a kick in the face, the force blasts my consciousness through the back of my skull, with all the fun and fury of the first peak of a roller coaster. It build and builds, it twists up and down, it spins off into oblivion shredding itself to fragments with a maelstrom of centrifugal force. What a ride! It is hard to think about much else now. An auditory effect sets in now, a constant reverberation in the background, a subtle hissing generated from a high frequency flange, the sound of heatwaves over a steady flame. It is a dry noise, it sounds like the sizzle of my neurons crackling under the warmth of the stimulation.

 

T0:37- I am now alone downstairs, listening to music and trying to read the news- there is so much going on in the world right now as always, I am enthralled to embed myself in each story and let it take me away from myself, view the world as a grand interconnected system that I can seamlessly pass myself through in my dissociated state. Border tensions between Poland and Belarus, a record number of opioid overdoses in the U.S., another spike in new COVID-19 cases in the Northeastern U.S., a looming verdict in the Kyle Rittenhouse case etc… Each tale spun into the world around me is enthralling and engaging, but it feels like I am trying to read everything while sitting on a jet ski, the wind and spray blasting my face and blinding me, the world flowing around me with such unrelenting force. I am so spacey; my fingertips feel so distant from me.

 

T0:45- Things have leveled off, I am securely in the peak now but the sense of acceleration seems to have slowed. This drug is pointy, rushed, tense and tight, stretched to a breaking point over jagged angles and austere edges. The air feels thick, my muscles pulling at the world around me, a tension I could slice with a knife, a tension that would fling my consciousness to splatter on the wall were it to break. Oddly enough it is a pleasant feeling, it if focused and stimulating and fills me with a smoldering potential energy. I feel compelled to do something, anything. It is the lovely masochistic burn of putting rubbing alcohol on a burn, a heart-rushing excitement that makes me have to catch my breath. I can’t help but grit my teeth and turn to a tight grin. But rather than clench my teeth I hold my jaw a bit slack, just slack enough for my teeth to just barely touch and vibrate together.

The visuals are spackles and spatters of visual snow, asters and radials of blurred, warping, flowing textures in muted colors, drilling their way into my retinas. An electric excitement barrels down my optic nerves, blistering with joy at receiving information my ravenous brain can consume and distort with the giddiness of a child scribbling on the walls.

It is difficult to read or process information, I am so overwhelmed with stimulus. Turning off the lights doesn’t help, phosphorescent green phantoms linger in the spaces of the silenced lights, forms appear in the dark, like embers glowing in a pitch black night after a campfire has been extinguished. The world is enveloped in an electric fog, my fingers are cold and my skeleton is disjointed and I am rushing with euphoria just from the sheer sensation of it all. I can’t just sit here, I need to do something, I don’t know what to do with myself.

 

T1:30- I put on some music, my classic favorite “Untrue” by Burial. I try and lie there with the lights off and immerse myself in visuals. I hardly make it through the entire opening (non intro) track, “Archangel” one of my favorite songs of all time. I simply cannot let myself just lay still there, despite how nice the music is, I try to immerse myself in the darkness of the visuals, but my mind clutches to my body with its talons, cold and tight, it cannot be taken away into the formless void. I am just sitting here, as myself, a witness to vague shifting angular protruding geometry with fiery glowing accents, immense and sharp and stark against a vague night sky, but blurry, grainy and pixelated as though it were a low quality video. Within just a few minutes though, I have the headphones out, I am back on my laptop seeking stimulation and information to take in. Music is nice to take in but only as an accompaniment to other things/  I am short of breath.

 

T1:45- I vape some cannabis, I am certainly still well within the throes of the peak, but the edge is receding. Things are beginning to stabilize as the initial turbulence and fire smolders out. The peak begins to sputter and falter.

 

T2:00- I decide to go for a late-night walk, probably just to the convenience store and back. I feel like I am on the downturn of the experience but immersing myself in a new setting stirs the dust and renews the drug’s churning intensity. It is a beautiful moonlit night, there are sparse windswept clouds high in the sky in regular patterns, catching the beautiful silver glow of the moon and the city lights beneath. The sky is a deep creamy violet, and the air is glassy with the late-November cold, occasionally taken by great buffeting squalls of wind that sweep up the piles of trash and debris and leaves in the street in creeping pulses like some black serpent stalking the night through the filthy asphalt undergrowth. Getting up and moving and walking feels natural and wonderful, at this point it is inconceivable to me that I spent so much of the experience just lying still. I always should have been in motion. There is a spring in my steps, I feel like I am gliding along the sidewalk automatically, my muscles guided in automatic cycles driven by my own momentum. I swagger and jubilantly swing my arms about, I must look deranged but that’s okay, that affords me a measure of safety walking around the city at 2:00 AM.

There is a psychedelic presence in my mind, I am taken with the beauty of mundane settings I walk by every day, there seems to be a distinct harmony and significance in each view my eyes lay upon as though they are perfectly shot frames in a movie. I snap pictures of the empty parking lots, the silhouettes of buildings against the night sky, lonely graffiti standing tall in empty spaces (upon viewing these pictures the next day, they really were just mundane and nondescript). In this moment these compositions are things of immense beauty, bearing profound meaning that I can’t quite discern.

I poke into a 24-hour 7/11, the clerk has to unlock the door to let me in at this hour. I gather up my snacks under his vigilant gaze, dodging around a man mopping the floor. I must look disheveled and insane to him, my gait is off-kilter, but I also must be passable, they have the discretion to just keep people they don’t trust locked out at this time of night. We make small talk as he rings me up. It is a little awkward, I feel too out of my mind to respond in kind, I just try to be friendly. It doesn’t feel like I am really here to get anything specific, I am just acting out a part, playing the role of someone going to the store rather than actually going to the store. There is such a sense of dissociation like I am walking about in some slightly adjacent reality, something intentionally composed by someone else beyond my understanding.

I decide to extend my walk a bit, walking to another convenience store further in the heart of the city. I pass all sorts of figures in the night, homeless people shuffling about in various states of clarity, some quietly going from place to place, others gesticulating wildly into the air, having spirited conversations with voices I cannot perceive. Doctors and nurses flit between the hospitals like honeybees in their scrubs, working hours I cannot wrap my head around. Scantily glad men in couples filter out of the gay clubs clustered around this part of the city, eager to escape the frigid night and return to the warmth of their date’s homes. The bass from the clubs shudders the block. I am walking and constantly thinking about each of these sights I witness, wondering about each person’s life leading to this point where our lives intersect, what struggles and triumphs they have faced, the love and pain they have felt or expressed, how their lives will continue to play out from this point. I am centered in myself, centered in thinking about each person as they relate to me rather than considering them as their own entities. I feel like I am the protagonist of the world, that it is a virtual reality unfolding around me.

I get some more snacks at the second convenience store, this one near the major hospital complexes. The only other people here are medical staff buying their late-night snacks to continue on punishing shifts and a few street people sheltering from the cold. I stay silent this time, grab my wares and get out, dodging the pensive eyes of others. The walk home feels more like a trudge just to get to my destination, I am down further and the energy behind my muscles has deflated and receded. I feel like I would be content to just be comfortable and sit still at this point. The tension and stimulation has steadily released its grip to relinquish me back to the real world.

 

T3:00- Made it back home, I take off all of my layers, crank the space heater and bask in its warmth. I am still definitely dissed, but on the downturn. My extremities feel fluid and grainy and my skin still tingles with numbness but the stimulation has died down, my brain has lost its fire and now it quietly retreats into the night. I am content in this state, happy to just relax, listen to music and pay Minecraft.

 

T3:30- Still on a descent. Every aspect of the experience decreases in intensity, not much else to note.

 

T4:00- All that lingers now is what’s left of the stimulation, most of the dissociative effects have faded to nothing, but I am still certainly wide awake, much more than I should be at this hour of the night.

 

T5:30- Completely back to baseline. Lie down to sleep.

 

Conclusion: 3-Me-PCE is short, fast, intense, fiery hot and electric. It is consistent in its effects no matter the setting- though I find it too restless for quietly sitting in my house. It’s a great drug for going out or being around friends. It’s fun for watching intense and exciting movies. My preferred dose for functioning in some setting is around 10 mg. 15 mg, as reported here, is a bit too intense and can preclude some activities, just from the degree of mental dissociation- such an intense rush that at times it can be quite incapacitating and distracting. This joins the canon of lucid, active, manic and stimulating dissociatives like 3-MeO-PCP, 3-Me-PCP, 3-MeO-PCE, or 3-Me-PCPy. It follows the seemingly standard pattern of a 3-methyl-substitution vs. a 3-methoxy-substitution, where it is a shorter, faster, more potent, and shallower version of its 3-methoxy counterpart. 3-Me-PCE can be warm and sociable, but breaks into the territory of being disorienting once a certain threshold is passed with dosing. It is somewhat less manic than any of the PCP compounds or 3-MeO-PCE, it has an average and understated degree of euphoria and a great deal of heart pounding stimulation. It does little to impede movement or motor skill, and despite the rushes of intensity, if I can focus myself I can hold conversation perfectly well. It is not particularly visual, with the entire experience being cast in a noisy, grainy, lo-fidelity blur, but the visuals that do present are reminiscent of 3-MeO-PCP or 3-Me-PCP: With eyes closed, angular forms looming in the dark, adorned bright lights and immersed in a crackling potential energy. With eyes open are bursts of drifting textures and a constant strobing. There is a persistent noise that accompanies the experience, a sort of reverberating auditory fry, a high frequency flanging constantly hissing and vibrating quietly in the background. The experience can be a bit edgy and toothsome, but it is ultimately quite enjoyable in the right setting, with proper outlets to expend excess energy.

3,4-MD-PCP

Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 40 mg intranasal

Setting: My house

 

Preface:

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

T6:00- Back to baseline by now.

 

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

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

 

ADBZL-ZC-P

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here is the bag with the molecule on it: https://i.imgur.com/cbpucOM.jpg

Here is 3 of the notes: https://i.imgur.com/s5zZQn0.jpg

 

----------------------------------

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

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

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

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

Happy Halloween!

Here is the original post in situ:

https://www.reddit.com/r/researchchemicals/comments/qjgtnf/title_has_anyone_heard_of_adbzlzcp_life_ruining/

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

https://web.archive.org/web/20211106152851/https://www.reddit.com/r/researchchemicals/comments/qjgtnf/title_has_anyone_heard_of_adbzlzcp_life_ruining/

And here it is with old reddit:

https://web.archive.org/web/20211106152355/https://old.reddit.com/r/researchchemicals/comments/qjgtnf/title_has_anyone_heard_of_adbzlzcp_life_ruining/

4-HO-PiPT

 Age: 26

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 35 mg oral in gel cap

Setting: The house where I grew up

 

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

T5:00- Entirely back to baseline

 

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