What Happens in GainesVegas Stays in GainesVegas
everyone, just thought I’d throw together a little report for my most recent
drug experience – my first encounter with 25i-NBOMe. I’ll get right into it, but in summary, the
day involved my good friend J and I and a 1000 ug tab each. We dosed buccally at 8:30am and tripped all
morning and afternoon, coming down in the early evening. Overall it was a very positive experience
with all sorts of vibrant fractal visuals, a unique look at my own ego, and a
sense of feeling very much in tune with the energy of the world. Largely it felt like basically a “fun” drug,
but 25i also showed me a somewhat mystical potential and just was overall
enjoyable, and I definitely will be experimenting with this drug further in the
future. My experience, probably due to
my relaxed set and setting, felt very recreational and carefree.
Stage I: Up Early
to Get Squirrelly
7:30AM – I awoke to the sweet wavy riffs of “Freedom” by
Jimi Hendrix playing from my phone’s alarm clock and rolled off my buddy J’s
couch and went to go wake him up. It was
like Christmas morning. I
enthusiastically perked up, despite barely any sleep the night before. I had got in pretty late the night previous,
and I had to turn around and make a five-hour commute to my college later
during the Sunday of the trip, but J and I were determined to trip, as we live
in different cities and have been trying to trip together for some time. After waking, we chattered eagerly about the
day’s plans over a cup of coffee. J was
relatively more experienced with 25i-NBOMe and had a handful of trips under his
belt, whereas today would be my first adventure. I explained how I was just going in with a
very open mind and wanted to gain perspective, and basically just experience
the drug for the sole reason of experiencing it.
8:30am – “Put it on your gum. Up here man.” “Like this?” “Yeah man. Just like that.” We shuffled nervously in the mirror, taking
care to effectively secure our psychedelic launching gear. After the tabs were in place, we reconvened
on J’s living room couch to converse and ease any pre-trip tension with some
comfortable Grand Theft Auto V Online.
Stage 2: Up the
9:30am – “If this is a
placebo, then…what the f*ck is wrong with me?”
I thought as I stared deeply into the screen of GTA V, focusing on the
lightly enhanced color spectrum through the lens of my dilated eyes. I entered a giggly, light headspace, and
distractive thought patterns were coming on strong. Ahhh yes…this is gonna be quite the ride, I
10:00am – “Shit man, I
remember being so much better at this game an hour ago.” I mumbled jokingly as the controller began to
feel like a foreign, putty-like, yet rigid entity connecting my two hands
together. I decided I was going to be a
bit too incapacitated to be bothered with technical tasks and gladly gave up
the controller to J. Pre-trip anxiety
was little to none, as I had been too excited.
And as the trip began to take hold, I shed my worries and ego like
10:30am – “I was up late at
the girls’ house last night; I had to lick a girl’s toe, all right? It got
fucking weird.” (Enter D, J’s very odd,
very short, very socially oblivious roommate) D murmured over the phone as he
walked in, looking sweaty and agitated. J
jokingly prodded at D and sarcastically poked fun at his demeanor and
mutterings. I stifled my rush of
laughter like the levees of New Orleans.
J said, “D, we’re tripping balls right now. Do acid with us.” Of course, D knows nothing about drugs and
acted as if he didn’t hear or understand what J had said. D barely skipped a beat to continue rambling
incomprehensibly in our direction about his constant social troubles and
less-than-ideal hangouts with girls that are god-knows-how-weird. That only preceded more of an urge to laugh,
and eventually I let it out. Normally I
would’ve predicted I’d get bad vibes being around this kid, but I was too in
too happy-go-lucky of a headspace to even care at all. I basically had no excuse when D asked what
was so funny, and so I strung together a “Nothing, man. Haha,” and returned to my dazed permasmile
watching J play GTA V.
Stage 3: Reaching Some Branches
11:30am – “You need to take
us for a ride.” J’s text, to our friend
P, read. We had been sitting around
playing GTA V, which was altogether mentally captivating, and the game, much to
the favor of our 25i-flooded brains, hinged on the apparent limit of visual
overstimulation that proved so exciting.
J and I’s consciousness seemed to phase-shift into the game. I began to forget about the gray, blank
apartment walls and the simple stock furniture in the room, and become
completely sucked into the visuals of this very-involved game. I felt like I really appreciated the small
aspects, the extra small developers’ touches throughout. The game became all too real – the sirens
filled my ears, the guns’ sound effects blaring through J’s surround sound
system got wider and wider, the violent blood spatter jarring my delicate
consciousness. After quite a few times
of removing myself from these constantly distracting dips deep into the world
of Los Santos, we eventually decided to mix it up.
Alas, we had had enough of GTA V and J had decided
to call in his good friend (and my slight acquaintance) P, to come pick us up
and go on some errands, and just cruise and listen to music. P agreed, and showed up about 30 minutes
later in a tank top and board shorts, armed with a to-go Panini and a pair of
ridiculous sunglasses, wearing a smirk
on his bearded face that said “Let’s party babe.” I chuckled at the thought at the time and
shook hands with the man. It was the
first time I had seen him since high school, a couple years back, but he seemed
chill enough, and I was in a very agreeable mindset. He said he wanted to eat and chill for a
while before we headed out, and I nodded, just sort of amiably ebbing and
flowing with the tide of the conversation.
12:30pm – The day became my
personal canvas with no direction. Not
that I could’ve made for any direction anyway… all decision-making became very,
very challenging and my natural brain filters slid off the slope of my mind
into the nether. With each 25i-spurred yawn,
my thoughts became more and more disorganized, yet more and more
enthusiastic. I found myself closing my
eyes and getting lost in thought and having lots of circular thoughts, all of
which were very positive and appreciative.
Most thoughts seemed to go through an altered mental process, where my
mind became a factory’s assembly line, analyzing each idea at different stations,
from different angles, checking for impurities and unsound foundations. I felt like I could better analyze my own
ideas, as well as better access the words I wanted to use to describe things,
but sentences were quite hard to flesh out.
I also remarked to myself that words were still, as a general category,
never going to fully equate the meaning
of something, despite them being the commonplace way we as humans communicate
ideas. Language, while under the
influence of 25i, felt to me as if it were an imperfect practice, eternally
damned from the start as a reluctantly accepted way to describe the energy of
the world in all its forms. But 25i
though, man, it felt like clarity, it had its own language, and I was getting
native-tongue immersion into its mystic, vibrant speech.
1:00pm – “Yo, let’s go. You comin’ man, or…?” I jolted briefly out of
my 25i-induced haze and muttered a “Shit, oh, yeah for sure man, let me just
grab my shoes.” P nodded and the three
of us, P, J, and I, left D at the apartment and walked out. Down the stairs we went and down the seemingly-endless
hallway. The day was as overcast as
overcast gets, and the humidity wasn’t too great either. But neither bothered me in the slightest. My outlook was so thoroughly positive I
couldn’t entertain a negative thought.
Visuals were technical and vibrant, flowing and digital-feeling, less
natural and “alive” than the visuals of shrooms, but they had more of a rainbow
“pop” to them.
We climbed into P’s black BMW, which was
effectively at the time, a Batmobile.
The rush of the industrial-sounding A/C sent smooth sensations over my
skin. The red-and-black leather interior
oozed wealth. Soon, sounds as diverse as
Phish, to various hip-hop, to The Who, to even some trap mixes enveloped the
cabin. P drove fast with the windows
down. I closed my eyes and for a few moments
half-entertained the notion that I was actually a drag-racing apprentice, along
for his first ever ride-along, so as to learn respect for the vehicle and its
Stage 4: The Top of the Tree
1:30pm – “Yeahhhh…definitely
peaking.” I thought. Or I said.
Couldn’t tell you. Thoughts and
speech blended together and became one.
Anyway, we had arrived at P’s house and we got settled in his room to
chill and smoke hookah and listen to music, a cool activity that P thought
would be entertaining for all three of us.
I was tripping pretty hard at this point, and had been doing so on the
car ride over and for a bit before that.
After a hookah hit or two and the bumping thuds of P’s home sound
system, and the more relaxed company at P’s house without D, I eventually
transcended the heights I’d previously reached in the day. I laughed uncontrollably at times, and was
calm and reflective a moment later. I
got lost in my own thought and just nodded and smiled in most of the small
amount of conversation we were having. I
closed my eyes for probably thirty minutes straight here, and lie back in P’s
leather office chair, letting P and J control the tunes as I drifted off into
the field day that was 25i-CEVs. Pink
Floyd, Daft Punk, and some samples of reggae floated into my ears.
All the while, P blew smoke tornados. He was a hookah smoke champion. It was like watching a snake charmer, except
a little less Egyptian and a little more college-student. The clouds of smoke took on their own
character and demeanor in the air as they floated this way and that, puffing
and bubbling along, careless and light.
I felt a lot like those smoke clouds.
At one point, I have to pee and excuse myself
to the bathroom, working on some kind of autopilot. I make it to the toilet, and while washing my
hands, I really feel separated from myself as I peer into my skin in the
mirror. My normal ego-dominated
perspective was far removed. I really
enjoyed looking at myself in the mirror – I felt as if I was evaluating myself
the way another person might see me, it felt like a more genuine perception of
my actual appearance and what I look like to others. My demeanor seemed friendly enough in the
mirror, and I remember thinking to myself about the man in the mirror, “Yeah,
man I’d probably hang out with that guy.
He could use a slap in the face to wipe off that weird f*cking smirk
he’s got on, though.”
I return to the chair and we listen to music,
converse slowly and quietly, and mainly get lost in the peaceful hookah
vibe. I look around at J and P and feel
that I can really understand them as people, as if the 25i made it feel like I
was the best judge of character, ever.
Each of my companions had an intangible “character aura,” a phrase I
arrived at while dissecting this odd perception. Both of their “auras” were cool and
collected, tainted a calm blue. They
felt like they each had their own “energy.” Earlier, when in the company of D,
his “aura” was negative and red.
Stage 5: Back
Down the Tree
4:00pm – We eventually head
back to J’s apartment. The trip seems to
come down now for me by a noticeable degree, and I begin to settle back into my
familiar consciousness, but I can tell it’s going to take a while. Everything is still extremely disorganized
and sentences and complex decision making are still daunting challenges. We
smoke a bowl on the porch together and J and I discuss the visuals we still had,
describing what it was like to P, who had never dabbled in anything past
weed. We formed a lot of abstract
sentence fragments. P urged me to
complete one of my such thoughts, as I had apparently grabbed his attention,
and he said “Just make a sentence, man; just tell me what you see!” I nodded, looked through my 25i psychedelic
lens, and calmly whispered “Hahaha, it’s not all about sentences...” J emphatically agrees and we all laugh,
understanding how high-on-drugs that sort of statement sounds, yet how right it
feels. We continue to relax on the back
porch listening to music for a while.
7:00pm – The trip is nearing
a close, and all that’s left is a disoriented thought process and some seemingly
obnoxiously persisting visuals, accompanied by a kind of bothersome body load
and some dull muscle aches. Of course,
reveling in today’s glory, the pros far outweighed the cons. It’s about time for me to head back to my
college, so I say my goodbyes and thank J and P for the hospitality.
Stage 6: The
7:17pm – “Fuck man,” I pull
over, my heart throbbing. The car
wobbled and made all manner of purging sounds, clanking and cluttering,
screeching and whistling to a putter and stop in the middle of the street. “Shit.”
I had cut a U-turn too lackadaisically and I hit the far curb going
about 15 miles per hour. The tire popped
and who knows what else. I panicked, the
25i leaving my consciousness in a very vulnerable, disorganized state. I threw on my hazards and got out and put it
in neutral. A few strong, exuberant pushes
and I had the truck into an old parking lot on the side of the road. In a bad section of town though,
and it was dark. Thoughts are extremely
displaced. Sentences are still
hard. My situation goes from a calm,
reflective road trip home to a stressful rush in a matter of seconds.
Then, matters got more complicated…midway
through dialing for AAA, my phone died.
(I don’t have a spare tire to change for myself, and that would've been
too much to do anyway.) I looked
hopelessly into its black screen, and all around at my not well-lit
Neighborhood locals eyed me as they passed by and
muttered incomprehensible things. A
large German shepherd abruptly charged a fence that I had my back to and barked
aggressively, jarring me. All right,
focus, I thought. I need to find a
phone. Eventually I made it a few
streets down to a Dollar Tree and asked the cashier to borrow her phone and was
able to call AAA. The mechanic showed up
a little while later and I was back on the road with a fresh tire. I thanked him kindly for his service – he
symbolically represented the key to relief, control, and restructure.
Soft color and light enhancement, and a general notion of “settling back into my consciousness” characterized the solo journey
home, feelings that shared the stage with a slew of reflective thoughts tuned
to the hums of Grateful Dead and The Doors.
12:00am – Finally pull into
my driveway, home, safe and sound. My,
what a long, strange trip it’s been.
Overall, my first 25i experience was thoroughly
positive and recreational, and it’s an experience I’d recommend to anyone
interested. Just try to avoid stressful situations. Cheers.