2018 in Review

Hello I'm late to writing this again
Oh well who even reads this anymore? I certainly don't, that's for sure.
So I guess it's become apparent- I don't post much anymore at all. There are several reasons for this, the first being, I really don't have many substances to try and pursue anymore. There just isn't much available on the market anymore that piques my interest. It's been that way for a while, and experiments have just felt tedious, but the work continued. Things like a prolonged period of abstinence, a failure of a large order, and a building monotony of experiences have contributed to a lack of morale to motivate earnest exploration.
This is coupled with just being very busy- with school, with steady work, with cultivating my relationships and social interactions. This has left very little time or mental energy to dedicate towards pursuing psychonautic experiments. This is also coupled with a general sense of pressure and shame- that this is a hobby of being younger, that this is something I should have grown out of and abandoned by now. That is no longer services my life, that I am just a drugged up degenerate, that I am a disappointment. And perhaps this is vindicated with my changing habits.
I have for the most part abandoned psychedelics- There aren't many new ones to try and the continual sense of sloth and shiftlessness during my experiences has led to feeling such a fundamental sense of wasting my time across all of my recent sojourns. I am just bored. I fail to motivate myself to properly stimulate myself through any activity while tripping and have for the most part lost the space to engage in them socially. Each trip feels like a waste of time, a waste of energy, fundamental uselessness. Not to mention the increasingly severe body load. It doesn't feel worth it much anymore.
Dissociatives though... hehehhahahahaha I love them so much. Experimentation doesn't feel worth it anymore, it's just pleasure, it's comfort, it's habit. I have found myself particularly gravitated towards 3-MeO-PCP, 3-MeO-PCE, and 3-HO-PCP, taking them at every opportunity. These experiences are not only pleasurable, but I sometimes find them meaningful and stimulating, despite the fact that they are not particularly novel. they are cleansing my mind, they allow me to introspect and analyze and organize my memories. And it's just fucking fun. I can easily acquire as much of any of them as I want, and I find myself able to do them in so many settings. Truly illumination in my life. I have found their use worryingly habitual, taking the place of my usual routine experimental trips. They are wonderful in social settings, they are wonderful alone, they are nice for walking around and exploring. I would love to further explore new dissociatives as they arise, and focus my efforts there. They are the most utilitarian drugs for me right now, but also probably the most potentially bad. Oh well.
And benzos... BENzOs........ never mind.
It's about comfort, familiarity, pleasure and the occasional meditative session now. The life giving meaning that psychonautics gave me has passed into the night. It's now life giving pleasure and hedonism, a life intertwined with chemical enhancement, with the occasional tired foray into exploration. I am honestly not sure which is worse or better for me, or which will continue to bring more shame and judgment to me. I just know, my life is inextricable from drugs, of any kind, no matter how much I try, and I just have to accept that.

Do I have a drug problem? I don't know. Dependence creeps in on the periphery, on a Trojan Horse of the pleasures and enhancements and comforts the drugs bring. They give me life, they give my life color, they give me a sense of competency and control over my life. Who knows what the future will hold, my life is changing a great deal soon. Maybe I will just give up soon. Expect less content in the future. I don't know who even reads this anymore. It's an exercise in vanity and navel gazing that I can throw at people to make myself look interesting or 'smart' or something. It's tedious and loses its steam and novelty pretty quickly. I no loner feel too dedicated to this. I am so tired.

It always falls from some kinda of healthy experimentation to utilitarian abuse of your hall of famers. Drugs are the life of me, drugs are the death of me.
I'm so tired and I'm sorry.
What do I gain from this anymore.

Whatever, fuckk it, here's my new substances review. From best to worst. It's shorter, I'm slippin. Sorry they're so brief and shitty I'm benzed and lazy.

1. 3-HO-PCP
My go to for a nice colorful and intense hole experience on dissociatives now. Not quite like MXE was, much less euphoric and a little more stressful, but appropriately vivid and exploratory. The sheer intensity takes a bit of getting used to. It's my comfortable distant place.
2. 4-AcO-DPT
This was fun! Not too much powder to snort, and it yields a powerful emotional introspection and stimulates a certain cognitive energy that foments learning and productive cognitive activity. Just a pleasurable psychedelic to immerse myself in.
3. 4-AcO-MPT
This was interesting. My report ended up being the first written for this subtstance. Short, sweet, energetic, and dynamic, with flowery visuals and a sense that the world as acting exactly as it should. Recommended for those who wish to explore something rare or new.
4. DiPT
The sound one, super interesting, but the novelty wears off quick. I really wish I could better understand the neurological underpinnings of this substance's effects.
5. 1P-LSD
Standard psychedelic, yields a nice experience depending on setting but overall not much to say to it.
6. N-Ethylhexedrone
fun fun fun fun fun too much fun too fast be safe
7. 2F-DCK
Sinking deep boring ketamine, ketamine encased in purple resin, ketamine minus the rush.
8. 4-MeO-MiPT
Literally just feels bad

Flubromazepam
Great way to loose a couple days, no furhter comment.

I am a degenerate and maybe I will get my comeuppance. Sorry to those I have hurt. I'm losing my steam and grappling with how much I may have fucked up my life

I'm sorry

2F-DCK (Intranasal)

Age: 23

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 150 mg Intranasal

Setting: My apartment

T0:00 – Suck down two fat mounds of powder- it has been quite a while since I have had to snort so much powder at once, and it is exceedingly unpleasant, as expected. It doesn’t have the acrid petroleum odor and flavor of other arylcyclohexylamines, rather it is more of a musty, rancid smell.

T0:08 – A gentle wave begins to wash over me, a cascade of dissociation running down the length of my body like syrup. It manifests as a sense of feeling dizzy, lightheaded and perceptually askew. The burgeoning feeling is bulbous and pulsing, like a bubble expanding in my mind. The drip is starting down the back of my throat, and it is predictably very unpleasant. A dry sandy numbness begins to settle in my extremities.

T0:20 - I feel a numb sense of fading in my face as though a gentle breeze is stripping away my sensory experience. The drug is making my surroundings flow around me, rather than the drug flowing through me. I am mentally very distant and disconnected, my thoughts turning to an empty neutrality.

It feels like muted ketamine, whereas ketamine kicks down the door, this one just quietly slithers in and constricts me. There is the similar sense of waves slowly pulsing up and down the length of my body, as though I am an oily film on the surface of a rippling pool.

T0:30 – I have been immersed in a great dense stratus cloud that has settled over my existence. An icy dissociation freezes its way into my limbs. The visuals are dim and boring, barely discernible with eyes open or closed. This turns out to just be the prologue to the experience however-

I soon seep past this antechamber and begin to feel subject to overwhelming dissociation in earnest. It races down my limbs and into my being, blurring and deconstructing the world around me, turning it still and vitreous. My vision becomes nothing but a mere still image, devoid of the usual connections and associations that sensory stimuli generate. My open-eyed vision begins pulsing and flashing, as a sense of numbness and oscillating motion grips me, like great strong hands of icy static clutching my face, squeezing my arms, and wrangling my mind. I smoke cannabis from a bowl as I peak and nurse it over the next 10 minutes or so, this seems to have an effect of igniting flareups in the experience, bringing out the visuals and illuminating its overall intensity.

T0:35 - Everything has converged into a very heavy mass, sinking into the fabric of reality, sagging it down. My mind still feels fairly lucid, but my body is trapped in viscous syrup. Everything feels very blue and purple. My sense of space is spasming- At once I feel very far away, very high up, very distant, then shrunken, compact, sinking into the earth.

T0:40 – Some dissociatives have a sense of rushing force, like a raging torrent of dissociation stripping my senses away with furious velocity. There is a vicious manic energy to them, with racing thoughts and soaring visuals. This one presents as more of a sinking, suppressing dissociative, where I am slowly being immersed deeper and deeper into the pressing depths of a viscous numbing fluid. I fee like a malleable piece of bent metal.

T0:45 - I am still cognitively very lucid and this seems to generate a sense of dissonance with how heavily dissociated my body is. My extremities feel like little crystals of syrup

My essence is dripping all over and there is a great weight in my head, as if a huge brick is glued to my brain. Closing my eyes yields a dulled space, decorated with cool colors like teals and violets.

T0:54 - The experience is already on the downturn. I feel out of breath, despite it not being particularly jarring or intense. My mind is running exponentially faster with each passing moment as it rises out of the pool of this experience, my body is stil running slow. I still simultaneously feel spacey, droopy and deconstructed. I get up to go to the bathroom, walking is wobbly and difficult, but in more of a drunken way than the usual astoundingly broken proprioception that other dissociatives can impart.

T1:08 - I cut out and redose 60 mg intranasally. It’s much less unpleasant this time, probably because I am already pretty dissociated.

T1:15 – The second dose hits fast and hard, like an avalanche crushing my consciousness. I have been impacted, splattered across the dissociative space. My mind twists and bends to accommodate this striking new stimulus, or rather the lack thereof, as it smothers my perceptions. The closed eyed visuals have manifested more clearly, as grand violet forms slowly revolving and rotating around me, a dim room with stark corners and walls, formless yet acutely defined, empty and blank with great sharp rectangular voids.

My body feels like it’s being scanned as waves slowly pass through it, reading every bit of its form. Pulses run through my body and drag its essence along with them, turning my sense of self into a warped, smeared mess. I get many of the classical non-manic dissociative effects- the sense of movement when I am still, blurry double vision, difficultly reading, a twitching and flashing gripping my visual field.

T1:25 - I am being spackled and spat across a grandiose void onto a gently rotating nexus. My seemingly comatose body is turning around it, a swirling violet Armageddon like a furious aurora thrashing above me, fracturing into looming blocks of color. I feel like I am being ground between the gravitation force of two great cosmic wheels, but it is an entirely pleasant sensation. With my eyes open, everything is draped in a matte veil of wintry blue.

I am sinking into a casket, I am gelatinous and blank, entombed in a gooey crystal prison garden, a sense of constriction and swelling and tightness overtakes me, as if I am being wrapped in cellophane or as if I am an arthropod about to burst from its vitreous exoskeleton. There are odd little pressure anomalies traveling around my body, as if little hands are brushing me and tapping me all over, particularly up and down my legs. The room is spinning and I am wildly dizzy. I would describe it as “dark ketamine”.

T1:40 – I am curled into a ball as the experience slowly weakens its grip, like a tide going out and dragging the sediment with it, the waters cold and glassy and deep midnight violet. The great deep sinking has given way to a gentler dissociation, like slowly being blanketed by snow. Everything is slowing down, I am definitely able to walk and function more, but each movement is still very punctuated and marked with exaggerated momentum.

T1:50 - I am drooping and lowering slowly, my form is returning to my body but I feel like a distant and numb icy wraith.

T2:00- it continues to fade, still some residual numbness in my extremities and a sense of feeling cognitively distant.

T3:00- almost back to baseline, have a bit of a headache

T4:00 – Returned almost entirely to baseline.

Conclusion: 2F-DCK is a sinking incapacitating sort of dissociative. It is reminiscent of ketamine in terms of duration and overall feeling, but it has had the energy and light of ketamine ablated. It is a suppressed, sinking, duller and stiller dissociative, it holds the user very still and drapes them in a cascade of syrupy blue resin that hardens around them.

1P-LSD

Age: 23

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 150 ug 1P-LSD sublingual on microdot

Setting: My apartment

Preface: Woke up in the morning with a friend. She did some cocaine to start her morning and muster up the energy to go to work and I took a bump too. After smoking some weed too we went out and got breakfast together before she left and I went back home. By the time I embarked on this journey it had mostly worn off.

T0:00- Microdot is popped in as I waited for the bus near my house. I stop by a bodega to get gum and water. My plan is to visit one of my favorite places in the city, a vast crumbling cemetery where the depths of it have been wholly reclaimed by nature- tombstones submerged in seas of undergrowth and wrenched from the ground by the sinuous roots of the forest. It is a grey, misty day.

T0:20- I get off the bus and wait for a trolley that will take me to where I need to go. There is a burgeoning sense of nausea and discomfort creeping up my body, but it still sits quietly within me like a secret. The sensory effects have not begun to manifest yet.

T0:36- I arrive at my destination. I am already beginning to feel anxious and on edge with the presence of other people nearby and am eager to slink behind the fence and into the sprawling meadow before me. There is a tightening in my gut as if my body is reflexively reacting with anxiety, even though I am in peace and solitude now. My mind is swimming, afloat on an increasingly turbulent sea, the grand chorus of insects in the bushes nudging it about like an undulating wall of sonic breezes. The visuals begin to pick up as a flashing in my periphery, abstract forms creeping in from the side and slowly bleeding their way into my entire field of vision. 

T0:44- There's a twisting in my guts that makes me have to stop as I'm walking around. I sit on the stone walls and try to lie down to bring some modicum of relief to the creeping deep discomfort. Cavernous chills run up and down my spine, I am shaking and twitching as the icy river of this trip begins to break through the floodgates and rush all over me, consuming me and tracing its way to the tips of my extremities. 

T0:51- I sift through the copses of trees peering around for all the little creatures of this world, overgrown tombstones at my feet and overgrown grey obelisks pinned to the sky above me. The muted shadows of the trees are like thin veils that I drift through as the ground undulates beneath me, adorned with all variety of blossoming colors. The sky is writhing and occasionally wringing a brief shower of rain down, as if it was incontinent. The mental effects are picking up as certain words and phrases in my clearly articulated thought processes catch like leaf litter catching on a riffle, swirling around in my head and embedding themselves as echoing intrusive thoughts. They bounce around my skull as I bounce around the jovial grey and green all around me.

T1:09- I arrive at a grand hilltop overlooking the entire cemetery- at the peak of this hill is a towering pillar topped with the freemason logo, with several other mason graves in a circle around it. I laid down at the base of this grave, sprawled out on the cold eroded marble as I stared into the clouds, beams of sunlight peering out from the cracks between them. It felt as though there was a jet of light and energy erupting from my mind into the sky above, the clouds gathering around me and radiating around it, the earth in concentric circles around my being. It was a sense of incredible self indulgent energy coupled with a sense of being indelibly bound to my surroundings. The afternoon sky's stratus blankets stalked in concentric rings as traceries of light began to weave themselves with their undulating forms. The stone beneath me spoke of the eons it had inhabited and the tension of its tightly bonded crystalline structures. The grass and soil beneath me whispered tales of its drama and struggles, of the creatures that devoured each other and cells lysing and being lysed and passing their nutrients onto other living, metabolizing cells. The trees that shrouded the earth heaved sighs of the wind that tickled their leaves, the larvae that wriggled into their bark, the sunlight that adorned them with photosynthetic energy, the rains that quenched their thirst, the roots tangled in an intimate playdate with the soil, and the incomprehensible beauty of their uncontrollably unpredictable branching forms. So much of the world around me, so much of it so densely tangled and intermingling, and there was me, an interloper, both out of place among their calculated interactions yet inextricably intertwined and exactly where I needed to be.

T1:35- I have now situated myself at the base of a glorious Virginia Pine at the top of the hill overlooking the rest of the cemetery, a lofty tree with limbs that span the sky parallel to the earth, giving the appearance of a looming colossus with outstretched arms. I observed this giant closely and intimately, gazing upon the lichens and molds and slime molds and mosses that had gathered on its bark, imagining the intricate microcosms contained on its being, the lives so delicately and uncontrollably intertwined with its own. My mind became enraptured with the idea of microcosms and I became engrossed in quietly observing all the tiny things that crawled among its roots and lived out their daily struggle for life and death in a space of less than a square foot. It was absurd to imagine all this life that adapted and radiated and diversified just to arrive at the current time- a plethora of forms recycling nutrients and propagating themselves on this tree in so many different ways, eking out every last bit of the sun's energy and the earth's boundless assemblage of molecules. 

T1:48- I wandered off into the woodsy part of the cemetery and am just in awe at the lushness of the world around me, the explosions of life, it was as if the forest was breathing. It had rained all week and was drizzly today, meaning all the forest's variety of fungi were in full bloom, bracket polypores jutting out of every tree and log, all variety of little mushrooms in dark little places and dense clumps of mosses and lichens thriving in the misty air. I felt like I was being uncontrollably subjected to their radiance, their pulses of life and their respiratory byproducts as they traversed the air around me, an entire thrumming prismatic shower of life. I was so enthralled by my surroundings that I didn't notice another person was in the woods too, also aimlessly wandering. I quickly retreated deeper and out of sight, before I could be seen. I was intractably locked into this mindset now of being enmeshed with these microcosms around me that being suddenly dunked back into the reality of a human existence with other people was very jarring. I don't know why I was so anxious about seeing another person, perhaps I had lost my sense of self among all the plants and fungi and was scared of how it may be expressed. Indeed I was tripping pretty hard at this point, the visual distortions were loud and apparent and I was separated enough from base reality to feel uncomfortable when I had to confront it. 

T2:03- I crossed a very fast and busy road with no stops or crosswalks to access the other side of the cemetery, which was a terrifying ordeal. The trip had manifested itself into alternating waves of sensation- a crest of nervous stimulation, physical discomfort, and an echoing, creeping throbbing and reverberation of my senses, coupled with troughs of stillness, peace, tranquility, and a quiet trickling of gently altered sensations down my neurons. To what degree this was guided by the setting I could not confidently determine. I was amidst the grand necropolis, smoking cannabis enshrined on all sides by tombs and obelisks and towering mausoleums. A tranquility has settled over the land like a mist at dawn. Immediately prior to this I was feeling very exhausted, too warm, too sweaty, and dehydrated. I had to suppress a burgeoning sense of panic at how off kilter my body's equilibrium seemed to have become. But resting, drinking water, smoking, taking in the pleasantries of a cool breeze- it was invigorating and I felt myself on the upswing, physically, mentally, emotionally. I am so comfortable and tranquil that it seems to override the inherent stimulation of the chemical- I could fall asleep here, a soft fortress formed from the curtains of the birds and bugs singing in a chorus around me, cushioned by the pulses of their neutral impulses and respiratory byproducts. I lie at the base of a mausoleum for a while, gazing into the sky, watching paisley traceries manifest themselves from the clouds. They form and unform in a continuous stream, like the birth and death of some very ephemeral organism. I see more people approaching also seemingly aimlessly wandering and feel a quick shock of anxiety, as I must look very out of wack lying here on this tomb, falling asleep. I jolt myself up and make a quick retreat into another wooded section of the cemetery before I can be spotted. 

T2:43- I spent some time exploring some deeper woods I had not explored much before. I ducked into some dense bushes to get there, a barely discernible path through the undergrowth seemingly enshrined by the arches of vines and bushes above it, a green trail into a living, breathing oblivion. All of the walking had turned me sweaty and tired and I felt the sense of panic at the disturbance of my homeostasis again. I rested a bit to try and restore order. I spent a while in the woods, gazing closely at mushrooms and molds and other organisms that were hard at work decomposing fallen trees. As I wandered deeper into the woods, deeper into desolation, I felt pangs of fear at my isolation- indeed what would happen if I encountered someone else in this lonely place? I was fairly far into a muddy swamp when I decided to turn back- I had quietly become consumed by a unique panic and fear that my mind could only form when afflicted with such a dense chemical stimulation. Upon returning to the open cemetery I lay on a pathway and gazed longer into the sky, focusing on the visual aspect of the trip- the clouds forming into paisley mirror images of themselves and echoing into oblivion, reverberating to the horizon, their fringes and gaps awash with swirling fluxes of color. The sky is undulating and breathing and there are so many infinitely flowing and warping patterns that are folding themselves out of the disorder. Indeed this trip seems to be tangled in the contradictions of order and disorder- of the apparent disorder of the natural world around me, despite it all functioning along very clear lines of chemical and physical interactions, just so many tangles and threads that is beyond the scope of our understanding of order, the visualization of it all as microcosms as an attempt to turn the intricately assembled ecosystems into neatly compartmentalized closed systems- it's all so much and I am thinking so much and I honestly just need to chill. It's such a nice place to think though. The clouds are not formed into entities or conscious patterns or hallucinations, it's all so abstract, like the self propagating molecules that would soon give rise to life vs. the coherent forms of the organisms they would eventually assemble. 

T3:20- I have moved on to another part of the cemetery. My path has been stalked by deer, families of does and bucks quietly surrounding me and staring at me. It makes me feel very nervous. They all eventually turn tail and run though. I have found myself sucked into microcosms again, this time observing the insect life hiding under some rotting bark at the base of a big maple tree. So many little trails of slime molds, so many insects haphazardly crawling around experiencing such an alien life to mine, all of them gently submerged in a rich tapestry of hallucinated colors and patterns and harmonious dancing and transfiguring forms.  I have become so immersed in these microcosms that every time I look up from what I'm doing it feels like waking up from a dream, just suddenly being exposed from a very different world than the one I was previously engaged in. It's very disorienting to say the least. 

T3:48- Decide to set off for home. I'm running low on water and want to be at peace in my own comfortable place. I take deep breaths and prepare myself to be immersed back into the world of people, as one would prepare for the shock of jumping into cold water. I walk to the trolley stop, the tightly packed rowhomes towering around me and draped by the overcast sky. Passerby look like caricatures of people, features exaggerated and distorted, and colorful patterns still dance and play across my field of vision. I am blessed that the trolley arrives just as I get to the corner, so I don't have to wait around, exposed and vulnerable. The trolley and bus ride home are uneventful, there was barely anyone on board either and I could just find a seat towards the back in which I could curl up and hide. It was an overcast but pleasant afternoon and there were all sorts of people just leisurely going about their days all around me.The heart of the world beats on all sides of me, everything is moving and existing and living as an intricate clockwork that I am immersed in, inextricably  part of, for better or worse.

T4:28- I arrive home and immediately retreat to my cave. I feel light and floaty and bouncy, as if I am a buoyant ghost drifting around. The visuals have died down but they still carry a bit of momentum, crawling around my perceptual space, weaving around each other but slowly fading out like apoptosis.

T6:47- I have mostly just been lazing around on my computer, I smoke cannabis which brings some of the dazzling features of the trip back for a bit but I am definitely on a steady downward slide. There is some residual physical discomfort like nausea, urinary retention and muscle tension. The day wears on and the sun sets and the novelty feels like its been drained from the experience. There is a show at my house tonight and I can hear the sounds and activity of people beginning to arrive. I'm content to be in my room with the vestigial patterns playing on the walls, the sounds a dull reverberating murmur.

T9:30- I went outside to socialize but I find myself not being able to talk much, I am content with being curled in a ball in the corner, listening. I still feel stimmy and interacting with people feels slightly awkward but at least they do not look like distorted caricatures now. As the night wears on I smoke more weed and become more competently immersed in my social interactions. 

T14:00- The night has wound down and most people have left my house at this point. I go to sleep without issue.

Conclusion: It is hypothesized that 1P-LSD is a prodrug to LSD, meaning that they would be functionally indistinguishable in vivo. I had this in mind throughout the trip and of course I didn't perform this in a controlled manner with an identical setting, though for reference I did spend my last bicycle day going for a long walk on an overcast afternoon. In general, Lysergamides are hard to distinguish from each other and this was no exception. I was immersed deep in contemplation throughout most of the experience, and I would consider this a potent introspective and analytical tool. Stimulation and bodyload wasn't out of the ordinary and there wasn't any particularly unique character to the visuals. To my discretion, there wasn't much to distinguish this from standard LSD, but perhaps further study is required. It nonetheless yielded an enjoyable and valuable experience. 

DiPT

Age: 23

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 70 mg oral DiPT

Setting: My apartment

I had already experimented once with DiPT. I tested the waters with a low dose, as my research had suggested that along with its novel auditory effects, DiPT is heavy on the mind and body. I ended up polluting and adorning my first experience with an assortment of other substances after finding it much more manageable than expected. For this second experiment I increased the dose and made sure to not add anything to it other than cannabis.

T0:00- Dose taken in gel cap.

T0:40- Begin to feel the first notes- the usual nausea, though it is slighter than it is with many tryptamines.

T0:50- The other expected physical symptoms begin to kick in- chills, shaking, further GI discomfort.

T0:56- The first hint of the predicted auditory effects begins to manifest. There is a slightly noticeable drop in pitch. I am listening to familiar music to serve as a reference.

T1:15- Sounds are getting deeper. Despite the fact that I am objectively being slowly and gradually immersed into this experience, I have a sense of rapidly and violently sinking and spinning down and down, like a pebble in a lake- it's like a auditorily illustrated descent into madness, a great big waterslide into a bulging syrup that swallows every sound that comes to me. My mind is reeling and I am shaking a great deal more.

T1:35- It’s still burgeoning and ballooning, I put a playlist of familiar music on shuffle as a reference point to fully analyze the alterations. The slide into this trip is gradual and continuous- it seems like every song sounds deeper than the last. Perhaps this is a perceptual illusion, like a Shepard’s tone, but what isn’t a perceptual illusion while tripping? Are the effects asymptotic? At what point will they level out? Only the passage of time will answer these questions. However just when I think I am following a predictable slide into the bubbling cauldron of effects, new perceptions begin to manifest-

There is slight warping at the edges of my vision, like viewing the world through a glass disc, curved around its rim. It is subtle but definitely noticeable. This was entirely absent with a lower dose.  

Soon the auditory changes are not characterized only by a drop in tone, but also by a sense of bending and flanging and whirling and warping. It feels analogous to how the visual effects of psychedelics alter base visual perception- the ways in which my visual input would be altered have transposed themselves onto my auditory stimuli. Perhaps if I had more understanding of sound, tone, and music theory, I would be able to discern patterns and structures similar to the patterns and superstructures present in the visual perceptions of more standard psychedelics. To my mind however, it is simply a chaotic and esoteric shakedown of my sensory experience. The timbre of everything simply sounds “broken” for lack of any better description- it all feels so wrong, yet it is simply the experience I have subjected myself to, and I am content to accept that.

The bodyload sits atop the trip like a gargoyle, unpleasant but entirely manageable. The nausea is bubbling and tense, as if the churning of my stomach has a magnetic energy that pulls my muscles inwards towards it, taut and unnerving.

T2:00- To answer my previous questions- sounds still do seem to be getting deeper, albeit it a slower and subtler rate. I would describe the progression of effects as being certainly asymptotic. My auditory input is adorned with further hallucinatory effects- Now there are odd off kilter harmonies sliding up alongside everything – as if every sound has a duplicate that is shifted slightly out of phase, turning the world into a beautiful cacophony of discordant tones, yet this is not unpleasant in the least, it is mostly fascinating.

The last time I did this, I found the novelty of the experience exhilarating. I felt elated and euphoric and wanted to communicate this enthusiasm with everybody I knew, as if the drug had an empathogenic effect. This time around however, the novelty has worn off and the experience is very matter of fact- merely existing before me. Perhaps all of the euphoria, the excitement, the sociability from last time was just a result of being enthralled at the novelty of the experience. I am decidedly content with the experience I am having now but am not feeling much beyond that.

Cognitively I am still largely functional, typing the same, existing the same, I could probably pass for sober in most contexts were I not so weirded out and distracted by the alterations to sound.

T2:36- Things definitely have a sort of ringing metallic quality now, as if every sound is being played inside of or being emitted from a steel drum. It is like the room has become round and reflective around me and every sound is bouncing off the walls and splattering and clattering around every which way, a sharp metallic reverberance.

The out of phase harmonies that accompanied every sound have now taken on a form of their own, it’s as if every bit of input has a ghost image, shifted slightly askew, fuzzed and twisted into a ringing, beeping, buzzy corruption of their source, a pixelated simulacrum.

T2:50- Decided to work on a drawing that was commissioned by one of my friends. I notice that my drawing ability doesn't feel altered in any way- none of the flowing traceries and patterns and repetitive or radiating or exponential forms that I typically draw while on psychedelics.  While listening to more music I notice the flanging effect is less noted through headphones than through speakers, as if the distance the sound travels through the air gives it a greater capacity for the drug to wrangle it and bend it out of shape. Another odd effect is music with voices that have been pitched up now sound completely normal- this shouldn’t be surprising or interesting in the least, it was entirely expected, but it was interesting to observe. Aside from that, sounds still are tinny and have an odd ring to them.

T4:20- The effects have for the most part leveled off- the asymptote is now in its holding pattern as it approaches zero. I have been watching youtube videos for the better part of the last hour. Mostly videos of airsoft because I was curious about the hobby, having never participated. Watching videos of people and hearing their voices in a non-musical context provides for a new interesting stimulus. Every voice of course sounds lower, but is also accompanied by an odd low buzzing, like a speaker clipping. It’s as if there is a fuzzy distortion oozing off of every sound and pooling at their feet, a jumble of artifacts and noise.

T6:00- The auditory effects linger but barely noticeable at this point. I am unsure as to whether or not I have simply gotten used to them and tuned them out or whether they have truly faded. I don’t really care to be honest though. I smoke more cannabis and it has no effect on that aspect of the experience.

T7:00- Call it a night and go to sleep with no problem.

Conclusion: This drug did exactly as advertised. There isn’t too much more to say on it at this dose. Higher doses may yield more profound disruptions of one’s sensory experience. At this level though it is at the very least an interesting novelty that all self-proclaimed psychonauts would find fascinating and perhaps glean some value from. It’s a curious experience but so far hasn’t proven to be much beyond that.

DiPT + Nitrous Oxide + 3-MeO-PCP + Etizolam

Age: 23

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 40 mg oral DiPT, 2 canisters Nitrous Oxide, 10 mg 3-MeO-PCP oral, 2 mg Etizolam

Setting: My apartment

T0:00- Dosed in a gel cap on an empty stomach.

T0:40- Mostly just feel tired. I am fairly sleep deprived going into this. I begin to doze off.

T1:00- I am awakened by a knock on my door. One of my friends decided to pay me a surprise visit. I am certainly not used to knocks on my bedroom door and I am grateful I was not tripping harder or this situation would have proven impossible to navigate. It was a pleasant although unexpected visit (I would prefer a message in advance in the future). As we were hanging out talking, I noticed an odd feeling creeping up on me more and more. It wasn’t the churning bodyload of a coming trip, or the odd shift in reality, but just a glowing high and dry feeling, starting to smolder in my core. This demanded my focus and attention and I quickly found myself zoning out in the conversation I was having. No sensory effects were noted yet but I ended up dismissing my friend so I could ride out whatever experience was approaching.

T1:45- The bodyload creeps up now. My muscles are tense and my extremities are shaking, as a slight nausea walks circles in my stomach before settling down to sleep. I smoke some cannabis to mitigate these effects.

T2:00- The world feels as though it’s melting, that everything is turning into liquid and aether around me. This isn’t perceived visually, rather it’s just the essence of that feeling being imposed on my mind. I am adrift and swimming amongst this melted world that still appears very much solid in my eyes.

And then, the most famous effect of all- I have begun to notice that music is distinctly deeper. Though it is only slightly deeper in tone it has a sense of depth in that it feels like it occupies more space, that is has more force and booming cavernous energy behind it. I am listening to my music on shuffle to explore the effect.

With each song that comes on, the pitch drop is more and more noticeable. There is accompanied by a sense of the waves cancelling each other out and going blank randomly, like the different parts of each song I listen to have been shifted out of phase in a way that they destructively interfere. My immersion into this experience is like a bubble suddenly popped in my head and this is what remains, similar to how one’s ears would pop on a plane.  At this point it’s not particularly exciting, just weird and novel. I am cognitively mostly lucid, with just the smoldering glowing high that is standard with psychedelics.

T2:30- I run into my roommate in the hallway while refilling my water and speak to her a bit. It’s very strange- my voice is odd and deep and booming and I physically feel as though my throat should be larger because of the depth of my voice. It’s an odd dissonance that manifests psychosomatically. Her voice too is the same kind of deep- it’s profoundly strange to witness that effect coming from a living breathing human being.

I am having fun, I am playing with more stimuli just to sample how intense the effect is. I feel giggly and elated, not from any particular pharmacological euphoric effect, but a giddiness as this novelty. I want to brag to all my friends about this truly unique experience. I message and chat with many different people who I have told about this drug before I had tasted it, conversation flows smoothly and articulately. I’m having a great deal of fun sharing the details of my particularly odd experience with others.

I decide to continue experimenting with different auditory inputs, this time by watching an episode of “The Simpsons”. I figure it will be something familiar that exists as a clear reference point in my mind so I will be able to clearly discern how sound has been altered. To that end, I settled on one of the episodes I had seen the most times, “Bart vs. Australia”.

T2:55- After watching the episode, I get the impression that the auditory effects seem to be a thin veneer, not fully formed. For the duration of watching the show, they lapse in and out of existence but sometimes they'll catch on me like a sunbeam shining off of a glittering crystal. They duck in and out and are at times very intense and jarring, while at others being hardly noticeable. This seems to fade in and out at random, though to a degree It's like the effect is more pronounced the more I'm paying attention to it.

T3:30- I take a gravity bong hit of weed and prepare to take nitrous, just to delve even deeper. I fill two balloons with the sweet gas, one balloon with two canisters and the other with just one canister. Upon getting ready to take the plunge, the balloon with one canister pops. Oh well.

The effects of nitrous were like I was lying down in a great void while a wall of sound, big deep black and shining blasted in the distance, its sound cavernous and immense. But I was paralyzed, floating in place, frozen into the mirror stillness of an inky puddle while this menacing auditory monolith loomed in the distance, blotting out the sun and drenching me in the shadow of its sound. The flanging waves of its thunder were visible as they roared through the air, rippling the fabric of reality with them. Within a minute or two the effects had predictably faded, leaving me feeling spaced out and dizzy, also as expected. There wasn’t much observed synergy between the substances, save for the fact that the typical nitrous flanging and phaser effect was deeper and heavier.

T5:00- I have been languid and bored for the last few hours, doing nothing but browsing the internet and listening to music. The novelty has for the most part entirely worn off from the experience. I decide to dose 8 mg 3-MeO-PCP orally just to spice things up a little bit.

T5:30- Start to feel the dissociation like a big cloud or a huge fog bank hovering over my brain, blurring and distorting everything that passes and streams through it. What were once crystal clear distortions have been sacrificed to noise and reverberation, the auditory inputs turning fuzzy and buzzy. Like sunlight through an overcast day, the light is dimmed and scattered.

T5:40- There is now a distinctive but mild tinnitus. It is very slightly annoying at worst not existing to any degree where I would consider it intrusive or problematic. Other than that, there is the typical expected interplay of 3-MeO-PCP with a psychedelic, though it is a very atypical psychedelic. The strange physical warping, the bubbly numbness, the sense that my field of vision is clenching and flashing.

T6:00- I am feeling like there is a great glacier crawling through my mind, shedding pulses of frigid intensity and strobing my field of vision. My fingertips are numb and everything still sounds deep. The beating and pulsing rages like a storm, further mutating soundwaves around them. I decide to go out for a walk, throwing a dash of etizolam onto the stack.

T6:20- I set out. I am unsure of why I am doing this or whether this is a good idea. Seemingly smelling that I had stepped outdoors, the dissociation pounced on me full force, quickly subduing my mind. I feel so genuinely and intensely out of touch with reality. I do not feel like I am actually outside, and I am questioning the physical existence of every object around me, I am questioning the very flow of time that all of these objects are subject to. My movements are uncoordinated and I am surely stumbling like a drunk. The distant appear close and the close appear distant.

I wanted to walk to the river nearby, stand on the bridge and feel the glorious breeze and gaze upon the glowing skyline of my city in a heavily altered state. I stopped at a nearby park along the way for a breather and noticed the effects reeling away- perhaps this was the etizolam cutting things off? I shouldn’t have thrown that into the mix. I desperately smoke cannabis to try and elevate myself again. I sat amongst tree roots as the effects creeped back in with the generous application of that cannabis. They enclosed me, embraced me, then choked and entombed me, the full moon inundating the night with a shower of silvery light that imparted the world with an eerie metallic glow, a glow that chewed away at my cognitively mangled form. As nice as the cannabis was, I suddenly found myself extremely thirsty.

Reaching a place where I could obtain water was a long and arduous walk on a warm night, the stresses of which imparted me with an even deeper sense of creeping sobriety. I was able to stop in a 24 hour convenience store (It was about 2 AM now) and was lucid enough to buy several bottles. Why I didn’t just fill a free cup is beyond me. The auditory effects are only barely noticeable now.

T8:00- I finally journey out to the bridge, mostly feeling dazed and tired. Further application of cannabis plunges my head back beneath the water. Truly I am nothing but a hedonist, greedily hunting for memories and experiences and ravenously devouring them. They pass through my drug infested gullet, mangled and deconstructed into their raw essences, the only thing that can be distilled from the mnemonic fog of this obscured mind. The skyline is beautiful, the lights dance on the reflection of the water, everything is still pulsing and flashing and my body still feels as though I am levitating above the bench I am sitting on. It is as if I a tuning into a great deep bass note thrumming at the heart of all of these lights and buildings, of the latent fury of the potential energy of so much constructed against the will of nature. I am truly alone in this tempestuous virtual world, entirely in the present and sequestered from all that came before and all that came after me, sequestered from all that exists around me except as pure sensory perception. It was so still around me, I felt like the only thing moving through a frozen world.

I eventually decide I should get some sleep and make the trek home, catching a bus that shortens what would otherwise be a very taxing walk. At this point, despite all of my attempts to fight it, the etizolam and the vestiges of the 3-MeO-PCP have taken their place at the forefront of my mind, fogging my memory. I remember very little of the bus ride home, other than everyone on it seemed to be asleep or on the verge of falling asleep. Illuminated by several incompetent and flickering fluorescent lights, it was such a dim and quiet and starkly tranquil yet unnerving space. The auditory effects are certainly gone by now.

T9:00- I finally arrive home. It’s comfortable and I am still catching visuals according to my notes but my memory of this is faint. They are described as bright feathery flashes and radiating feathers on the whitespace of my computer screen. Alternatively they are coralline, iridescent, the playful manifestation of the afterglow, the fireflies at dusk after a full summer day. I dosed more etizolam, ~1 mg, showered, smoked some more, and passed out, getting a long and restful sleep.

4-AcO-DPT

Age: 22

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 25 mg intranasal

Setting: My apartment

T0:00 - Cut the tan powder into a line and snort it. I was expecting the nightmares of the other members of this family I had the displeasure of consuming (DPT and 4-HO-DPT), where large piles of the chalky and retchingly bitter stinging powder had to be sucked down. Those ones dosed in the 70-100 mg range. At only 25 mg, this was a modest amount of powder to consume and was proportionally less uncomfortable. Stings a little, doesn’t have as much of that “powder cloud” effect that would coat my sinuses like the others. The bitter flavor is noticeably less intense, though this may just be because of the amount.

T0:05 - Feeling a bit light and wavy with tingling in my extremities. This would perhaps be described as the onset. No other effects noted so far.

T0:14 - Feel a bit of discomfort now, but overall, the effects aren't too strong yet. There is a wicked twisting feeling inside of me, in my abdomen and in my muscles. My limbs begin to feel restless and shaky.  

T0:25 - I am shaking a lot now and clenching my jaw, it feels like the world is twisting around me. I was expecting it to be more intense at this point and considered redosing but I figure I should wait it out a little more. Even the body load isn’t even especially bad at this point, just fairly standard.

T0:30 - Uh oh, it’s coming on much stronger now, very suddenly. I feel greater physical discomfort with the burgeoning trip, it is a looming discomfort like a reaper standing over me, gutting me. I am stricken with sudden nausea and abdominal cramps and my muscles are being whipped by flares of energy.

Despite the discomfort, this is simultaneously exciting and exhilarating. There are bright flashes of light and color at the edges of my vison while seemingly random forms drift around my field of vision, leaving crisscrossed tracers behind them. It's like an intricate rollercoaster of visuals, shifting and soaring and racing with momentum and energy, cascading onto my tortured body. I cannot help but grin in the face of this sudden intensity, like the simultaneous excitement and panic that comes with being caught in a sudden and severe storm.

T0:40 -  It courses through me, nerve zaps blasting through my extremities. I am shaking so much that typing is difficult. It's suddenly so powerful and all consuming. I’m glad I did not try to redose. I feel articulate and capable and competent yet entirely incapacitated. The visuals are flowery and blossoming, interspersed with forms reminiscent of seashells made of tiny iridescent cells. I find myself prone to intense fits of invasive introspection, like my consciousness is aggressively being probed by some autonomous extension of my mind. All I can do is lie there and ride along with it.

The closed eyed visuals amplify the aforementioned energy and momentum that are driving the trip. They are like riding a wild and twisting roller coaster through tunnels of glowing concentric lights. I am unbelievably physically uncomfortable right now, all I can do is writhe and twist while the trip lurks over me. Yet it is at once so exciting, it is a productive fire lit under my mind, warming it into clarity, lapping at it and massaging it with a deep and primal and logical euphoria.

T1:30- I feel sappy and sentimental, sweaty and swirly. This whole trip is warm, like a womb. Despite the continuing discomfort I feel safe and cradled and warm, a wildness thrashing and raging outside of my bubble. I want to think about people, feel what they feel and understand how they are forming their thoughts and emotions. It has heightened my sense of empathy, I want to see the world through others’ eyes. I am thinking a great deal about familial relations and the interactions I have with other people. I am still pretty uncomfortable, and I have just been browsing on the internet for like an hour, observing and interacting with whatever catches my fancy. The sensory effects still fight onwards, though they have begun to fade into the background by now.

T1:45- The introspective and analytical thoughts that I have been having about the world around me and the people around me have turned completely inwards, towards myself, thinking about myself and the way my thoughts and feelings form and propagate. This substance is immensely therapeutically and introspectively stimulating.

Thinking about myself and how I appear, I feel as though I would feel hot and attractive right now were it not also for the physical discomfort that still wracked me. I am swirly and flushed and I feel lush and sweaty.

I've just been pointlessly browsing my news feed for the past hour, I hate how much fresh and desirable content it offers that I've tailored to fit my needs it’s an endless and fucked up cycle of constant information flow. I haven’t done anything particularly productive this entire time, just like most other times I am existing.

T2:00- I have mostly been lying on my bed now, twisting around, meditating, and sinking into whatever position feels most comfortable for the time being. I begin to come to realizations about how my thought processes and emotional processes operate- one time my partner asked me about the paradox between my stating that my life feels destined to be short and finite, that my death at my own hands is soon and inevitable, and my lifestyle of always striving to create memories, my desire to have something to look back on one day and feel satisfied about- what is the purpose of that if I otherwise feel as though there will be no later date with which I can ruminate on my memories? The striving to make memories is a struggle against the background base state of a finite life, which always eventually overtakes as the mindset at the forefront of my thoughts. It's a dialectical cyclical struggle, always in flux, one state always forming into each other, both contradictions averaging out to exist dialectically and simultaneously, it is me blindly casting forward into the dark and maybe the rest of me can follow the paths it lights, before that dark inevitable and instantly consumes it again. Sorry enough rambling…

T2:30 - I'm in a state where I’m thinking a lot and want to learn a lot really fast. Most of the discomfort has faded by now, or perhaps I’ve just managed to get used to it. I feel articulate and it feels like my thoughts are flowing productively despite the fact that I’ve wasted the last few hours doing nothing. I want to force myself to be productive, to learn something or consume some new and carefully crafted media, or at least something not carefully crafted for my immediate and careless consumption. Something to make the night and the experience more worthwhile.

I feel emotionally raw and vulnerable- guided therapy would probably be very productive and useful in this state. Particularly by this time, when the intensity of the other effects has tapered down to a more manageable level and I can truly focus on the cognitive and emotional effects. Much of the content I see online now is funny and fills me with mirth. I decide to take a gravity bong hit.

An internet tangent soon leads me down an internet hole where I want to lean all the basics about how thunderstorms form and function. I had originally planned to watch an anime that I heard very good things about, as part of consuming some stimulating media (ok I’m a fucking nerd I know), but spent the next hour ravenously reading information about lightning and thunderstorms, and all the necessary background knowledge (like a refresher on how electricity in general works). I feel like the state my mind was in allowed me to form conclusions and analogies from what I was reading and to translate them and structure them into being compatible with my own thought processes in a way that allowed me to readily repeat them. This was deep, effective, and efficient learning. This truly felt like a miracle drug, were it not for the thrashing it gave my body.

T4:00 – Mostly just cruising in the residual afterglow- it feels like relaxing tentatively in a raft after being rescued from a flash flood, gently bobbing above the chaos and intensity that I had been subjected to moments ago. It feels like the afternoon sun is warming my body as I bask in the lingering effects. Still have a desire to learn about and engage in things. Something I noted was that there wasn’t much of that odd esoteric alien weirdness that came with the other DPT analogues. This one was purely introspective, it was centered around me and my real experiences rather than the eerie and looming “other” that stalked my experiences with DPT and 4-HO-DPT.

T5:00- Mostly down, residual stimulation. Smoke some more weed and it just eases me into a state of being stoned rather than flaring the drug black up. Play videogames for the next few hours.

T8:00- Down enough to go to sleep now. Up a bit in the dark thinking but I eventually phase out.

Conclusion: This substance is miraculously mentally stimulating. It feels as though it has boundless potential for introspection, therapy, learning, and analytical thinking. It is a gentle fire that warms the mind and activate it into a higher state of functionality. It allows me to take in information and coherently translate it into some form that is highly compatible with my thought processes. The only drawback was a heavy and intense bodyload. Compared to DPT and 4-HO-DPT, this is substantially friendlier to dose. The amount of powder is modest and manageable and it doesn’t cause nearly as much discomfort. Also relative to DPT and 4-HO-DPT, this doesn’t carry the same sense of some sentient “other” guiding with or lurking within the trip. This was rational, logical and completely anchored in my self and my own experience. There was no novel and esoteric machinations intersperse among it like its other family members.

N-Ethylhexedrone

(Aka Hexen)

Age: 22

Weight: 130 lbs

Dosage: 37 mg intranasal

Setting: My apartment

A friend gave me a free sample of this so long as I promised to write a report on it. This was like more than a year ago, I finally got around to it :p

T0:00- I am hanging out in my room with two close friends who are just smoking weed. I Cut the powder into a line and suck it down. The pain is instant and intense. It feels like snorting a 2C-x compound, just blinding searing stinging- all I can do is sit there and clench all of my muscles as tears stream down my face. It is like there is a fire in my nose.

T0:02- Oh. This isn’t so bad actually. Despite the initial and very intense burn, everything inside of my head it has touched seems to have gone completely numb. The stinging has faded with an almost orgasmic relief, and a numbness at the back of my throat has kept me from feeling or tasting the drip. Not bad at all. It doesn’t give that stinging sore throat feeling that a lot of chemicals give as they travel down the soft palate- it’s just blank now. I feel giggly and uppity.

T0:08-  I feel so lifted and bubbly. Everything is funny and every possible activity seems fun in the moment. There’s so much I want to do. I am squirmy with buzzing electric energy coursing through my muscles, I cannot sit still at all.

T0:11- I just want to talk to my friends about everything, I feel so confident and so good about myself. I just want to brag about things and tell them how great I’m feeling. I’m moving so fast I feel like I could get a lot done if I was able to focus my energies. But I also just feel like I can do absolutely anything I want right now, there are endless possibilities in the world. I need to chew gum to relieve the jaw clenching.

T0:20- I keep feeling like I need to stop and catch my breath, like its constantly running short or like something is sitting on my chest. My heart is beating fast but it doesn’t worry me in the least. I feel like I couldn’t be worried about anything if I tried right now. I smoke some weed and that accentuates the experience gently and manageably with a softening of the edges. I can now taste the drip running down my throat, but it doesn’t sting or cause discomfort at all which is nice. A friend I’m messaging warns me about the crash but cursory research tells me that I haven’t dosed high enough or redosed enough to catch the brunt of it.

T0:30- I feel sappy and sentimental. I want to tell my friends about all sorts of things, I want to open up to them and be honest to them. It honestly just feels like a very stimmy empathogen. It’s giddy energy and raw, rushing chemical euphoria. This is just pure feeling good in a powder, this is a ravishingly hedonistic experience.

T0:35- The ride already seems to be slowing down. I feel a calm pleasant glow and a general feeling of happiness but also a sense of “is this it? Is there more?”. There is no longer the raw, screaming, rushing feeling, the firehose of happiness blasting my mind. It’s just the aftermath now. This stuff is fiendish. If I had more I would absolutely suck it up right now, just to shoot up to that level again, just to feel that warmth and happiness again. The hints of doubt and self consciousness that creep in one the comedown of empathogens for me start to show themselves. Have I annoyed my friends by talking so much and being so sappy? Do I get out of hand when I feel good? Maybe this is why I try to keep myself down so much. I feel a slight sense of shame. No matter though, I’m still high as fuck and it feels good.

T1:00- I find myself touching rough surfaces and obsessively stimming with my fingers. If I was on this for too long I can definitely see myself compulsively wearing my fingertips raw. The predominant feeling in my mind right now is “I wish I was at the peak again”. I am still well altered but I feel like I can’t enjoy it because I’m fixated on the memory of when it felt even better. It feels like when a roller coaster has ended and the car is slowly pulling back into the entrance.

T1:30-  I wish I could just focus on the experience in the moment but I’m obsessively thinking about chasing that high. I am mostly down at this point and smoke a lot to compensate for the void that has been left in this drug’s wake.

T2:30- Almost entirely down now except for a bit of physical stimulation- restlessness and stimming with my fingers. I definitely couldn’t sleep right now or anything.

T7:00- Finally manage to fall asleep with the help of copious cannabis.

Conclusion: Whew. This stuff feels too good. I should not have access to a substantial amount of this drug. I do not feel like I am meant to feel as good as it made me feel. People compare it mostly to cocaine but it felt very empathogenic to me, though it also did indeed have that stimulant audacity and confidence to it, moreso than other empathogens I’ve tried. It’s fiendish and tempts me to redose just to chase the peak of that high.