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Comfy in Nautica Registered: 08/05/09 Posts: 695 Loc: Los Angeles Last seen: 10 years, 7 months |
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Friday, April 15
Set: Coachella 2011, Day 1! Setting: Very excited for the festival. Consumed: Eight grams mescaline tar, cannabis (flowers and wax) I’m so excited for another weekend of Coachella. I’m slightly underprepared, what with the acid deal not happening as it was supposed to. So it’s down to a couple of grams of dry shrooms, some hefty wet shrooms, and mescaline tar. After some deliberation, I decide to take the mescaline today. The bands I want to see are spread out all day, whereas tomorrow it’s really in the evening that I want to trip (and Sunday’s the day I won’t feel so bad about if it doesn’t work out). I take the capsules around 11:00 AM, right before we head out to the venue. "Enjoy" them with some orange juice, as normal. I don’t want to lose a moment of Coachella and am ready to go. We get a ride half way, then walk to rest. With the walk to the grounds, we probably go about two miles on foot. A homemade pot brownie is choked down (didn’t feel like eating at all) before going in the first security stop. I start feeling off when we’re waiting in line at the second checkpoint. Maybe it’s the heat. It is damn hot. As soon as we get in, my thoughts are of filling my water bottle. I walk to where I expect there to be a free water trough, but it isn’t there. After searching a little longer, I decide I just can’t take it any more, and lie down in the shade of a tall hedge, away from where people are walking. I lie there for 10-15 minutes, trying to control the nausea. A guy sits in the shade 10 feet away from me, and I feel real bad for him when I roll over and (quick as a flash, as quietly as I can) heave up my brownie, tar and OJ (the brownie actually made the experience more pleasant, on a taste level; I think I threw it up before I could get any effects). Most of it comes up in two hurls. Not wanting to draw too much attention, I sit up as soon as I can. The guy’s gone, and I have mescaline brownie puke on my pants. Great. I’m not done throwing up, so I bend over my scrunched knees, hiding the act of throwing up between my legs as well as possible. When I lift my head, it seems that the ladies selling water to my right (I’d vomited to my left) haven’t noticed. So that’s good. When I’m certain the vomiting’s done, I hide the pile as best I can with a piece of bark and head off. I’m feeling much better already, but I seriously need water so that I can wash the puke out of my mouth (and I’m very thirsty after that brownie). $2 (and that’s a good price!) water bottle bought, I go to the Gobi to check out New Pants. I can’t deny that something is happening. Things are brighter, most definitely. There might even be slight movement, but it’s hard to tell. I can’t remember exactly when I smoke pot, but it’s sporadically throughout the day (and I think my best guesses are pretty good). Given my tolerance, I packed a small glass rod pipe full of weed and wax, and had a (.5 gram?) joint also with wax. There’s actually a lot of specifics I can’t remember. From New Pants, I go to 12th Planet for a few minutes. I think I hit the pipe a time or two here, around 1:50. The trip has begun, but it doesn’t seem too strong to me. I leave 12th Planet for Brandt Brauer Frick Ensemble. Outside looks very shiny and colorful and beautiful. The mescaline is doing its thing. I feel really wonderful, not tired and slightly off, as I often do with mescaline. I wonder if it has something to do with throwing up. I really hate doing it, but if it turns out that’s why I feel so wonderful, I’m willing to not avoid it so staunchly next time. Brandt Brauer Frick looks and sounds amazing, and I’m glowing with the happiness that is the beginning of a beautiful festival. I’m so happy to be here, and especially so happy to be here in this state. Psychedelics and live music is one of life’s great combinations, up there with chocolate and peanut butter. Feeling less self-conscious (both because of the drug and in general life these days), I move to the music, much more than I have in the past. I’m already enjoying myself immensely, grinning at the prospect of nearly three more days of this ahead. At 2:50, the performance is over. I want to see Cold Cave, as the last time I saw them I was also on mescaline, but I spent the whole time staring at trees (MDMA was also involved, and the trees were very beautiful). But they’re not on for another ten minutes, so I head for food and refreshment. Everything I’ve eaten has been puked up, and I’m out of water. I want something simple, so I go for some veggie pizza and a Coke. The slice is huge. The sun’s blazing in the early afternoon, and I desperately need shade. I find some underneath a pagoda-like structure between the Gobi and Mojave. The problem is, I’m hitting a peak. I look at my hand and I can see swirling colors on my skin. The grass is also moving and changing color, radiant and patterned. I can barely eat, but I need to. I force some bites down, chewing slowly and occasionally gasping for breath between swallows. The Coke hits my belly in a fuzzy way, and I can barely taste it. But it’s hydrating and full of sugary energy, and I’m glad for that. It takes me a while to decide to pack up the pizza and move on. I wish I’d bought something more portable. I don’t want to ditch it, it was expensive and I know I’ll want it later. I fold it up in the paper plate it came on and head to Mojave for Cold Cave. I’ve missed the beginning of their set, but it doesn’t really matter. As I said, I’ve seen them before. I see them do three of four songs, a couple I know and a couple I don’t. At one point, they produce what seem to be minutes of the absolute worst, most dissonant and disturbing sounds they can get out of their machinery (lots of sound boards). They go at it for so long that more and more people in the audience are yelling “boo”. I just laugh. I think it’s funny, what they’re doing. Torturing their audience like this. I wonder why they’d do that at a huge event like this, where bands are made or broken. Why go out of your way to displease your audience like that? Whatever the answer, I find the action amusing. I don’t really have anything to do when they leave at 3:45, so I head for the Sahara. It’s where I go when I have nothing else to do, as it’s the “party” tent (and I’ve grown a fondness for electronic dance music at festivals over the last few Coachellas). Skrillex is playing, and I enjoy it enough. I hit the pipe and dance about, moving without much inhibition (but still having some sense of self). I spend a while there, just grooving to the beat. Around 4:30, The Morning Benders are playing in the Gobi. I want to see them, so I get myself over there. They’re good and I wouldn’t mind seeing more, but Warpaint’s playing next door at the Outdoor Theater at 4:40, and I want to see their whole set. They’re another band I first saw while on mescaline, and I really fell in love with them. They were my favorite new band of last year, actually. Unfortunately, it’s 4:40 in the afternoon now and blazing hot. There’s no shade anywhere, especially not anywhere with a decent vantage point. And I want a good spot for this one. So it’s forty-five minutes in the unrelenting sun and nothing to be done for it. Ah well. With my sunglasses on and my hair in my face, it doesn’t bother me too much. They’re excellent once more. I have a good time watching the palm trees groove. Such a beautiful setting this festival is in. The music, the desert, the mountains – I can’t think of a better setting for recreational psychedelics, which is why I’m here every year and will be for the foreseeable future. Warpaint ends at 5:25, and I want to get some relief from the sun and grab a water. I’m sick of drinking the water from the free trough, as it’s begun to taste a bit funny. So much for free water. Don’t have long, though, as I need to be right back where I am for Tame Impala at 5:50. But it’s not hard to get around here in a short amount of time. I head over to The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. I eat a bit more and smoke some. I want to be properly prepared for Tame Impala, a psychedelic rock band who would be one of the other amazing groups I found out about recently. I still don’t much feel like eating, but I’m enjoying it more than I was before, and manage to get a good portion of it down. I want a good spot at the Outdoor, so I head back early, getting there around 5:45. Visual effects are still going strong, though I would characterize this as a light trip. I decide it’s going well enough that I don’t need the quarter tab of ecstasy that I had in my pocket. I’d packed it in case the visuals didn’t work out, but I decide I can save it for tomorrow (for mushrooms and Animal Collective). Tame Impala is about as amazing as I want them to be, a tight band of good musicians who know how to present their songs. Their set is great and a wonderful feeling of elation overcomes me. Things are so far working out perfectly. When they’ve finished, I head for the Sahara and Afrojack, a group I’ve seen at a dance festival and enjoyed. I hit the joint a couple of times and snuff it out before too much burns out. I’m smoking to boost the mescaline’s effects, not to get high. Colors shine out again as I get to the business of dancing. I end up losing track of time, and don’t remember to get out of there for Sleigh Bells until nearly 8:00, most of the way through their set. But I do get there in time for a couple of tracks, most importantly “A/B Machines”. It might be now that I’m first asked if I know where to get acid. Sure wish I did. I get asked a few times throughout the weekend, I think because of my dancing. But it could also be for other reasons. After Sleigh Bells I meet a friend. We talk about what we’ve seen so far, and I finish my pizza, suddenly very hungry and aware of it. It’s past 8:00 now, finally dark, finally cooler. Cool enough that I put my thin sweatshirt on. We go our separate ways again and I head for Cut Copy. I don’t know much about this group, but I’m in love by the time the performance is over. Really great, danceable music. I’m just another moving body in the crowd, happy to be a part of the party. I think about how my Coachellas have changed as my taste in music has changed, mainly because of psychedelics. I used to like guitar rock much more than I do now. In my early Coachella days, I would mainly watch bands on the Main Stage, the big acts. Music was something to be listened to, I suppose. Now music is something to be experienced. These days I go for music and bands that I expect are going to be fun. So that’s why I go to see Monarchy after Cut Copy is done. Only Monarchy ends up being late…very late. Crystal Castles are playing on the Outdoor and it seems that’s where all the dancing kids are. I keep glancing over there, only I marked Monarchy as a group I wanted to see, and I’m willing to wait. They finally come on around 9:45. They’re good, too. Performers in masks and all. The lead vocalist has a great voice, and I enjoy the music, but the lure of Crystal Castles eventually get me. They look like they’re more fun. I get there just as they’re performing their last song, and I can tell I did miss a good time. Ah well. 10:20 now. I have nothing in particular to do until 11:40, so you know what that means…Sahara tent! Sasha’s on when I get there, and I spend the next hour dancing, with little sense of time. I leave around 11:20, stopping by the Mojave to dance to a Robyn song or two. It’s not music I’d listen to otherwise, but that’s what I love about these festivals. I want to be in a decent spot for The Chemical Brothers, so I get to the Coachella Stage around 11:30. They’re late, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. I smoke most of the joint while waiting, leaving a little nubbin for the long walk back. The trip’s mostly faded by now, though I still have some color sensitivity and small distortions. The moon is shining hyper-white and beautiful, the shifting halo around it glowing radiantly. I use the moon as my tripping gauge the rest of the night, glancing at it for confirmation that things are different whenever I fear things have faded entirely. But that’s also an indication of how low my trip is now. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that The Chemical Brothers are amazing. This is, you guessed it, the second time I’ve seen them on mescaline. And they were incredible both times, just perfect at mixing their songs for a seamless exhilaration. It ends sometime after 1:00 AM, and I am thrilled with the way the festival has gone already. At this point, I’m high off of the music, though the mescaline is still in effect (as a glance at the moon tells me). I feel just fine walking back the three miles to the RV camp, even though it’s after 2:00 AM and I’ve been on my feet (and often dancing) all day. I finally get back around 3:00, exhausted and overjoyed. Can’t wait till tomorrow.
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