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Invisibledwpineal
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: dwpineal]
    #17185553 - 11/08/12 03:55 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Cut Off

I’d been working with Melanie for about a year and a half, moving many thousands of hits each month, so we’d become pretty close. We’d developed a good relationship, and trusted each other, which is very important in this game. One thing I’ve learned in my life, is that people who actually do what they say they are going to do, are like gold. You want to keep those people around. I still didn’t have a car, so I would always have other people drive me around to pick up acid, or to go to parties, and even to run around and do drop offs. Today I needed to go pick up a book and no one could drive me. I was at my friend David’s girlfriend, Sara’s house. We called everyone, but either people weren’t at home, or just weren’t available right now. So somehow it was arranged that Sara’s dad would drive David and I over to meet Melanie at a local gas station by the highway. I don’t think he actually knew we were picking up a thousand hits of LSD, but I’m not sure. We loaded up into his car and headed out to the gas station. We pulled into the gas station and I had them park around the side of the building, so her dad couldn’t see exactly what was going on.

I got out of the car, ran around the building and jumped into Melanie’s gray Isuzu pick-up truck. She handed me a magazine, which was usually how she gave me the LSD, it would be in a baggie in between the pages of the magazine. I handed her the cash, and walked back over to Sara’s dad’s car on the other side of the gas station. I got in the car, and we drove out of the gas station, back onto the highway and headed back over to Sara’s house. Later in the day I got back home, and saw that our message machine was blinking. We had a voice massage machine that would let you press 1 for my mom, 2 for me, and 3 for my brother, so I could see by the way it was blinking that the message was for me. I pressed the button and it was Melanie’s boyfriend, “Yo man, you fucked up, you’re cut off, never fucking call Melanie again!”

I’d never really spoken to Melanie’s new boyfriend, and certainly never gotten a message from him, so of course, the first thing I did was to call Melanie. “Hey I got a message on my machine from Mark, he said I was cut off, why, what did I do?”

“That was a cop you brought with you today, I know him, he busted me before” she said, angrily.
“No, he’s not a cop, that’s my friend’s dad! I just had no one else to give me a ride today.”
“Look, never call me again, you’re cut off.” She said, and hung up.
I sat there, looking at the phone in my hand. I knew Sara’s dad wasn’t a cop, he worked construction. This didn’t make any sense. So I dialed Melanie’s number again. This time her boyfriend Mark picked up.
“Hey kid, don’t call this number, like she said, you’re cut off. Watch your fucking back!” And he hung up on me again.
After that she never trusted me again, and I never got another hit of acid from her. I had developed some other contacts of people who moved large amounts of acid from time to time in the rave scene, but no one connected into the scene as consistently or as well as Melanie. The fact that I got cut off really set me back at the time, but about 2 years later it pretty much saved my ass. She was arrested by the DEA after having tons of acid shipped to her from San Francisco, and it was a really bad scene. There was a whole distribution leg, and pretty much everyone down the line ratted on each other, except for the very top people. She ended up getting 25 years, even after ratting out her suppliers, but this is a story I’ll get more into later on.

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Invisibledwpineal
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: dwpineal]
    #17185559 - 11/08/12 03:56 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Meeting the New Connection

After getting cut off from Melanie, I made a deal with one of my best friends to be my official driver to go and pick up acid whenever I needed it. Scotty was the best driver I knew. He was clean cut, drove the speed limit, had never been in an accident, and had a good head on his shoulders. I had made good friends with a guy in Miami who had a good line of LSD and kind buds. His prices were even better than Melanie’s, but he wasn’t as consistent, but it was working for the time being. I had a few people I could call around to when things were dry, but consistency is important in this business.

Chris wanted to go to a new club that some people he knew were throwing a party at. It was a really fancy venue right on the water in Fort Lauderdale, by the beach. When we got there, there were limos out front and it looked like a much more upscale crowd than we were used to. Chris went up to an older guy wearing a big gold chain and talked to him for a few minutes. He came back and told me that they wanted us to pay the $10 cover charge to get in, because they wanted it to look good for the club when they looked at the take from the door, but that they would give us each a good roll for the $10. He handed me a perfectly pressed pill with a capital E stamped on one side, and a bottle of water. We each took the pill and walked up to the door. The doorman was dressed up like it was Halloween. He looked like a pimp from the 70’s with a wide brimmed purple felt hat, gold chains, and the whole pimp get-up. He greeted us with a big smile and a handshake and pulled back the velvet ropes as we walked into the club. The vibe in the club was really high. People were all dressed up, dancing, laughing and having a great time. We walked upstairs to a VIP room that overlooked the club from floor to ceiling windows. They were tinted so that you could see the club below, but the people below couldn’t see you.

As the ecstasy pills started to come on, I could tell they were really good. Chris confided to me that the guys throwing the party were supposedly Israeli mafia and they were throwing the party to help them move the E pills. The party was called Genesis as it was going to be the beginning for them of something big; also I guess the biblical reference since they were Israelis. We were able to smoke herb in the VIP area, and I saw some of my friends from The Edge, which was no surprise, as many of us would go to different clubs and events all over South Florida depending where the best parties were. After smoking, we all went downstairs into the main club section. The DJs were spinning some great breaks and we were all dancing and getting lost in the music. The pills were definitely getting us moving. At one point Chris looked down on the floor and picked something up. He spent a few seconds examining it closely, bent down again and picked something else up, and looked over to me with a huge smile. He leaned over to me and yelled into my ears above the music, “Look, we’re dancing on weed!” and put a flattened bud into my hands. I looked and sure enough it looked like weed that we’d been dancing on. We broke up hysterical with laughter and threw the crushed herb back onto the floor, after first showing it to everyone else in our group and laughing at the oddity over and over. We felt really rich to be dancing on herb, not that it was ours, but the whole scene just felt decadent. It was a much nicer venue than what we usually went to, the people looked more affluent, and now we were dancing on hundreds of dollars’ worth of weed strewn all over the dance floor. It was very surreal.

At some point I ended up sitting at the bar of the club, probably drinking water, since I never drank alcohol. I started talking to a beautiful oriental girl in the seat next to me, and soon we were making out. At one point I asked her what she was doing later, if she wanted to come to an afterhours party after the club closed. She shocked me with her response, “I don’t know let me ask my boyfriend over there.”

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Yes, but don’t worry, he’s not the jealous type.” She said looking over her shoulder and waving a tall guy over. He was wearing a black Kangol hat that obscured his eyes, and he put his arms on her shoulders as she spoke into his ears so he could hear over the music. He looked over to me with a smile and held out his hand. Hi I’m E-Dog, I see you’ve met O already. I reached out to shake his hand, feeling about as awkward as I can ever remember feeling. I wasn’t sure what was going on but it seemed weird and yet natural at the same time. I didn’t kiss her any more after meeting her boyfriend, but it turns out they knew the guys throwing the party also, because after the club closed, we all ended up at the same house hosting the afterhours party. It was the house of one of the guys Chris had talked to earlier, the Israeli mafia guys. They also owned a limo company, so we all piled into one of their limos, and it took us to a nice home in a suburban Fort Lauderdale neighborhood. We all went into the house and everyone relaxed on the floor, couches, pillows, all over the main room of the house. They had turntables set up and a DJ was spinning some relaxing ambient jams. We were passing around joints, and somehow the subject of acid came up. I had some with me and one of the guys, from across the room said, “Hey kid, let me get a few hits.” I figured he was cool, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to charge him, or give them to him for free. As I was thinking about it, he said, “Hey man, don’t be worried, when the books come into South Florida, they come through me, I’ll get you back.”

He had put me on the spot, I felt everyone’s eyes on me as I tore off a five strip and held them out, for him to come over and take. He motioned me over, I guess he wasn’t going to be walking across the room, so I got up, walked across the room and handed them over. I knew his name and his crew from the scene, but we’d never met, so this felt like a good thing. The afterhours party went on into the early evening and eventually we’d all filtered out of the house and headed home. Before we left, O, the oriental girl I met earlier, gave me her number. She said, “Hey if you want to get more of that paper, you should really give Eric a call. Eric? Who was Eric, I thought. She must have seen it in my eyes, “E-Dog,” she laughed. “My boyfriend.”

A few days later I called the number she gave and a guy answered. “E-dog?” I said into the phone.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

I told him who I was and did my best to ask in code if he could help me out in getting some pages. He told me sure, and to just come by his place and we’d talk more. So I set up a meeting for Friday after I got out of school. I got all my money together and headed down to South Beach, where they lived with Scotty doing the driving. We parked on the tree-lined streets and found the door to his apartment and headed over. Having an apartment in the heart of South Beach was impressive enough, I knew a few people with apartments there, and I was always jealous. It would be awesome to live right in the middle of the party atmosphere of South Beach. O answered the door and led us in. they had a really nice place. I saw E-Dog sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine. He got up when he saw us, shook hands, and said he’d be right back. He came out with a big piece of paper that I thought was a rave flyer in his hands. He turned the paper over from one side to the other and I saw designs on both sides, but still was thinking it was a party flyer. Scotty was quicker than me to realize it was a book of acid. He said that he had as many as I would need and that they were $600 for the books. This was the best price I’d heard so far for LSD. This meant I could buy lots and sell it really inexpensively. I took a closer look at the paper, and on one side it had a fractal type image repeated over and over, and on the back side, each hit had either a heart or an ankh in either green or purple. E-Dog walked over to a huge glass jar with a rubber seal and opened the top. It was full of beautiful crystalized buds, and the whole room started to smell of the sweet herb. He pulled out a bud and threw one over to me, “I can get this for you at 35 a P. You can keep that as a sample.” I had never seen a pound of kind buds before, and I really didn’t sell anything but LSD, but I was happy to have the free bud. I bought 4 books from him right there without even testing it to see if it was good. Usually I would test acid when I was buying from a new person, but this felt good, he let us into his home, he was being very open and kind, I just took the risk. On the way out, O pulled out a magazine and opened it to a page of a pretty oriental girl centerfold. She wasn’t naked, just not wearing very much. She put the four books in the magazine, with no baggie and closed the magazine. “Something to remember me by” she said with a smile and a wink.

Luckily my trust was well placed, the acid was excellent, E-Dog said they were called Eternal Life’s. Years later I would see the blotter art for sale and those sheets were being called “South Africa.” I started working E-Dog’s sheets for many years. In fact it was through him that I found out more about the situation with Melanie being a rat. About a year after meeting him I was at his house and he was looking all upset. He asked me, “Hey do you know a guy named Jovi?” I did, that was the same guy from the afterhours that had put me on the spot asking me to give him a few hits in front of everyone. “He ratted out my boy and people are looking for him.” Apparently the LSD they were bringing in was coming from San Francisco and it was coming directly from there to e-Dog’s best friend. E-Dog told me he only sold the acid to me and one other guy, but that his friend had a distribution line and Jovi was right below his friend. Apparently someone ratted out Jovi and he in turn ratted out E-Dog’s friend. They had gone up the line trying to get the San Francisco connection, but only got as far as E-Dog’s friend. He kept his mouth shut and right now was in jail facing some serious time.

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Invisibledwpineal
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: dwpineal]
    #17185569 - 11/08/12 03:58 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Endo Mekka

Shortly after the conversation in E-Dog’s living room about his friend getting busted, there was a huge rave being held at a local fairground, called Endo Mekka. It was a massive event with huge lists of DJs spinning and some international headliners. They had multiple rooms of music, and the event was packed. As soon as we got out of the car in the parking lot, I saw a guy selling red microdots.  He said he needed a few bucks to get some gas for the ride home, so I bought 10 of them, since I hadn’t seen microdots in a while. I stashed them in my friend’s car since I didn’t need to be walking into the event with more drugs than I already had. I took a very small amount of acid I brought with me from home and made my way to the line to get into the event with my friends.

Once I got into the show I ran into a friend who had a lot of MDMA capsules he was calling Tic Tacs because they were really tiny capsules, about the size of a Tic Tac candy. I bought everything he had, which was only about 150 of them. This event had thousands of people, so I knew I could move through these very quickly, if they were as good as he was saying they were. Once I had the bottle full of capsules, my friends and I walked through the event checking out the different areas, to feel out the vibe of the place. Everywhere I was running into people telling me that the place was hot, DEA was all over the place, and people were getting busted left and right. In addition to that the rolls that people were getting were totally bunk, there wasn’t any good ecstasy there.  That got me worried about what I just bought. I knew the guy pretty well, but I’d been burned before, so I popped one of the little Tic Tacs into my mouth.

The vibe in the party was very tense. I felt like people were watching each other and things were just sketchy all around. The music was loud, people were sweaty from dancing, lights and lasers everywhere, and I could feel my capsule starting to take effect. That at least was a good thing. The rush from the capsule was coming on strong and intensifying the small amount of acid I’d eaten earlier. The environment was starting to get me stressed, all the talk about DEA was getting me paranoid with a pocket full of capsules on top of the recent news of the LSD busts in the scene. I just wanted to get rid of the capsules. I ran into my good friend from Miami that used to get me doses when Melanie cut me off. He is a really awesome guy and I was happy to run into him. He asked if I had any rolls and I told him I did, but I was sketched out from all the talk here.

He said he’d heard the talk and that we should probably go into the bathroom, and not do the deal out in the main event areas. So I walked into the bathroom with him and now the capsule and LSD was really starting to hit me hard, and my sense of paranoia was building rapidly. I looked around the bathroom checking everyone out, seeing who looked out of place. I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea.  We both went into one of the bathroom stalls, locking the door behind us. He said “okay let me get 25 of them.” I started to get a really uneasy feeling. I just looked at him, thinking was he a cop? Was he setting me up? What should I do? He could feel my uneasiness and said, “Man, it’s ME. ME, you know me my brother.” I realized yes, I had known this guy for a long time, he had always been golden, and we needed to do this and get out of the bathroom as soon as possible. I opened the bottle and quickly counted out 10, and another 10 and 5 putting each group into his hands, which he then put into an empty cigarette cellophane. We walked out of the stall one at a time, him first, closing the door, and then me a few seconds later, and we headed back into the madness of the event.

We went our separate ways and I was all alone again, walking through the booming bass and layers of lights, trying to feel okay about all the ecstasy capsules I had in my pocket. The whole place felt like a set-up and I got more and more paranoid as I walked around. I saw a lot of friends, but I was being evasive with everyone, I just wanted to leave, but I was too scared to go outside by myself, and I had lost the people who had driven me here anyway, so for the moment I was stuck. I was thinking about E-Dog’s friend sitting in jail for LSD, looking around, wondering who was DEA here. People kept talking about busts happening here and I just got more and more worked up.

My friend came back and told me the capsules were amazing and that everyone wanted more, he would take the rest that I had, if I could front him half, he could pay for half now, and the balance within an hour. I was so happy to get the pills off of me, I just told him to pay me everything at the end of the night. I discretely just palmed the bottle of pills to him as we were walking. He gave me a hug and wandered off into the club. Then my paranoia crept back in. Did he just rip me off? If he didn’t is he going to be okay moving those pills here? What if he gets busted, did I just get my friend busted? Should I have taken half the money now in case he gets busted? The music was pounding my body, I could feel the bass vibrating through me, the flashing lights strobing on and off, revealing partying sweaty people all around. I had to walk to a corner to breathe and catch some balance. I felt a little better knowing that I didn’t have anything illegal on me anymore, but I was still uneasy about having all that money walking around the party.

I bought a cold water and went back and sat in a corner of one of the big rooms for a bit until I felt good enough to keep walking around. I still wanted to try to find my friends and see if they were ready to go home. As I was walking, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Was it the cops? Did my friend rat me out for the capsules? Was it the DEA? I turned around and was immediately relieved when I realized it was another friend of mine that I knew well. She didn’t look very happy though. “Hey do you know that girl Melanie that you used to work with?”

“Yeah why, what’s up?”

“That bitch ratted out Jovi on some LSD. She ordered a book, went to his house to pick it up and the whole place got raided. She’s a snitch, and people are looking for her.” I didn’t mention that I heard Jovi also ratted out the guy above him, but I couldn’t believe Melanie was the one who ratted him out. She always seemed so trustworthy. She always was on point, always delivered when and what she promised. That was really scary that she would snitch when confronted with jail time. “Do you have her number?”

“Uh, yeah, I do, her number is…” I gave her the number and we parted and said good-bye. In retrospect I don’t know if that was the right thing to do or not, maybe I should’ve just stayed out of it. But it seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. I never heard if anyone found her or not. But the rumors in the scene said even though she ratted out Jovi, she still got 25 years on her LSD charges. I don’t know if that was true, I never even knew her last name to look it up, but that was what I’d heard.

I kept looking for my friends that drove me to the event to see if they wanted to go. We’d only been here a little while, but I just couldn’t take any more of this paranoia. My friend that got the capsules showed up and put his arm around me and I felt his hand in my pocket. “We’re all good papa” he said. He had put a nice fold of money in my pocket. I wasn’t going to count it there, but I trusted him that it was all there. That was a relief to see him safe and sound with all my money intact. That was one major stress off of me. Now that the finances were all balanced out, I had nothing illegal on me, my friend was okay and I was okay, I started to feel a lot better. I felt so much better, that I wanted to eat another one of those capsules, but I realized that I had handed my friend the entire bottle earlier, and I had none left.

Luckily my friend did have a few left, so when I told him laughingly that I wanted to eat one, but they were all gone, he reached into his pocket and discretely handed me one of the capsules. A little wave of paranoia hit me, wondering if anyone saw, but I immediately popped the capsule into my mouth so I wouldn’t be holding anything at all, just in case. The MDMA in the capsule really was good and it really lifted my paranoia and sour mood from the night. I started to feel good, blessed, and thankful that with all that had gone down recently that I was here, finally having a good time, listening to good music, and that I was still free.

Later when I got home I decided to check out the red microdots I bought in the parking lot. I looked at them and they looked a bit weird.  They were slightly different sizes, felt a bit waxy, and some were a bit crumbly. All around they were just a little off. I popped one into my mouth and waited to see how they were. It turned out that they were totally bunk. I couldn’t believe I wasted money on fake acid, but everything in life is a lesson, so I just took the lesson and was thankful that was the worst thing that happened that night. This time was a period of turmoil and change in the South Florida rave scene. Things started to get really weird, there were more robberies, busts, fights, and a general sense of unease settled over the scene. It was not a good time.

Edited by dwpineal (11/09/12 10:39 AM)

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Invisibledwpineal
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: No Cars Go]
    #17185589 - 11/08/12 04:01 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Quote:

No Cars Go said:
These are incredible! Thanks for posting these :wink:




Thanks so much for the kind words, really appreciate it.

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Invisiblesailing
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: dwpineal]
    #17186228 - 11/08/12 06:24 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

i only read a few chapters, but just wow man. thats some crazy shit. really has me sucked into the story.


--------------------
Love is the deep spiritual connection between the self and all things. We are all a part of the same universe.

Crazy cat peekin through a lace bandanna,like a one eyed cheshire, like a diamond eyed jack.

:awecid2:

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Invisiblebryguy27007
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: sailing]
    #17186591 - 11/08/12 07:31 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Oh man! I've only read the first one so far, but I love it. I'm very excited to read the rest of these. Thanks for posting DW. Amazing.

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Invisibleindocult
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: bryguy27007] * 1
    #17187779 - 11/08/12 11:07 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

:aweyeah:MOARR!!

haha

Wow DWP, you should write a book!  This is fascinating, best read in a while!

I can't believe your mom ate your acid! that's insane!  I almost wish that my mom would have eaten some of my mushies to see if they were psychedelic or not!

You're a really cool cat, I met you at waka last year, bought some art and got free quartz crystals.

Anyways, cool stories man:dancingbear::dogpile:

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OfflineNo Cars Go
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: indocult]
    #17188017 - 11/09/12 12:22 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

I feel a screenplay coming on...


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

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Invisibledwpineal
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: indocult]
    #17188693 - 11/09/12 05:10 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Quote:

sailing said:
i only read a few chapters, but just wow man. thats some crazy shit. really has me sucked into the story.




Sweet, I love this, because it says a lot, cool comment man!

Bryguy - much appreciated. These kind of encouraging comments are great, because I am hoping they motivate me to keep writing. One of my best friends has been telling me to write a book for years, but I get distracted easily with a million art projects, ideas, or just life hitting me with this or that curveball. So I was hoping if I could put a few stories out there, and people like them, then I will be inspired to keep going.


Quote:

indocult said:
:aweyeah:MOARR!!

haha

Wow DWP, you should write a book!  This is fascinating, best read in a while!

I can't believe your mom ate your acid! that's insane!  I almost wish that my mom would have eaten some of my mushies to see if they were psychedelic or not!

You're a really cool cat, I met you at waka last year, bought some art and got free quartz crystals.

Anyways, cool stories man:dancingbear::dogpile:




Yeah I still can't believe she ate acid either, or that it turned out so well. I mean how many times have I heard someone say they wanted to lick a sheet, but then no one ever does it, LOL. Glad you got some of the crystals, I always say they get right to where they're supposed to be going...I'm just the conduit for stuff sometimes, I get it where it needs to go :smile:

And yeah if I can keep at this, maybe it will morph into a book. I literally have at least 100, probably way more of these stories/chapters. I wrote myself little one line reminders of the stories and I have them all (mostly) chronologically ordered so I just have to go through and write them out...

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Invisiblesailing
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: dwpineal]
    #17188986 - 11/09/12 07:14 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

I really think you should write a book man.


--------------------
Love is the deep spiritual connection between the self and all things. We are all a part of the same universe.

Crazy cat peekin through a lace bandanna,like a one eyed cheshire, like a diamond eyed jack.

:awecid2:

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OfflineKief Ledger
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: sailing]
    #17189099 - 11/09/12 07:51 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

I'd buy it!

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Invisiblelarry.fisherman
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: Kief Ledger]
    #17189102 - 11/09/12 07:54 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Awesome stories man, keep it up.

Also, I took a two hits of LSD last night and I talked to my cat about cartoons for three hours. It was weird how well his voice fit. Kind of sounded like a white James Earl Jones. Really white.

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Invisibledwpineal
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: larry.fisherman]
    #17190344 - 11/09/12 12:26 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

People Losing It

One winter night Chris and I got some MDMA crystal, and we decided to make our own capsules, and put a hit of LSD in each one. Mixing LSD and MDMA was known at the time as “trolling” a mix of tripping and rolling, and it seemed to really bring out the best in both substances. We went to a local GNC and bought a bunch of empty capsules and got to work. First we had to crush all the MDMA so that it wasn’t big clear chunks, but nice evenly powdered grains. The “O” sized capsules were pretty big for the small amount of powder that needed to go into each one, but it was all we could get at the time. We found that 100mg would take up about a quarter of the capsule, the powder filled the bottom of the capsule to a little indented line. So we just used the line to measure the doses and we came out with almost the exact number of capsules at the end that we should have, so that worked nicely. At this time finding pure MDMA powder was very rare in the rave scene. Almost 100% of the ecstasy in the scene was in pill form, so having this pure powder was something very special.

There were two big parties that night, Wonderland in West Palm Beach, and Candyland in Miami, about an hour and a half away from each other. We decided we’d split up so that we could work both parties. Chris took a few hundred of the capsules with him to Wonderland with his girlfriend and a few others. I went down to Candyland with about the same amount of capsules. My night turned out as I hoped, I went to the party had a great time, moved all my troll-caps, ate a few that I had left, and stayed and partied until the morning.

Chris’ night did not go nearly so well. I got a page on my beeper around 10 in the morning from Chris’ girlfriend’s number, which was unusual, so I called her back from the nearest pay phone. She was crying and really upset. Chris took some LSD at Wonderland after he’d sold all his capsules and just totally flipped out. She told me he started acting really crazy and out of control. He was trying to give away all his money, acting super paranoid and didn’t want to leave the party. They knew they had to get him out of there right away, so they were able to get him outside the party and into their car. West Palm Beach is about an hour away from Hollywood in driving time, so they packed up and hit the road. They left the party and as they pulled up to a stop sign a few miles from the party, in a very bad part of town, Chris jumped out of the car. She told me he gave all his money to a bum sleeping on the side of the road and ran off into the ghetto. He was running through yards, cutting across alleys, and they weren’t able to catch him. She had no idea where he was, if he was okay, if he was in jail, or what happened to him.

I got off the phone with her and called our friend Scotty to come pick me up. I paged Chris probably 30 times waiting for Scotty to show up, but he hadn’t returned my calls. Once Scotty got there, we rolled a joint and tried to figure out what to do. We didn’t want to call the police to see if he’d been arrested last night, and we weren’t sure if we should call the hospitals to see if he was admitted anywhere either. I called Chris’ parents’ house and he hadn’t shown up there yet, so we just had to sit and wait until we heard something from someone. In the meanwhile, I kept paging Chris throughout the day, but he never called me that day. The following day was Monday, so he was supposed to be in school. I went to where we would always meet up in the morning, and Scotty was already there, but no Chris. All day I was freaking out, what had happened to my friend? His girlfriend still hadn’t heard from him, it seemed like he had just disappeared.

That afternoon at my home, I tried Chris’ home phone number again but no one answered. I didn’t know what to do at this point other than to try to call around to hospitals that were in the area near where he jumped out of the car. I pulled out the phone book and started looking up hospitals in that area. I found a few close and I called 2 of the hospitals with no luck before I got another page from Chris’ girlfriend. I called her back immediately and found out that Chris was at home now. He was still acting really crazy from what she said, she had gone over and it was like he wasn’t himself at all. She was back at her house now, but she was so upset she started crying again. I called Scotty and he picked me up and we drove straight over to Chris’s house.

When we got there, his mom was outside on their porch, smoking a cigarette, shaking her head. She looked at us and said something like, “You did this to my boy.” She opened the door and we went into Chris’ room. I saw him there and he looked over to me, almost with no recognition of who I was. This was my best friend and he didn’t even look like he knew me. I tried to find out what had happened to him, but he was really hesitant to tell me anything. I could sense that he didn’t know if he could trust me or not. I had never seen anyone who had gone through any kind of LSD psychosis, and up until that point I wasn’t even sure if it existed. But this was real. He didn’t seem at all like my best friend, something terrible happened to him. We tried to talk to him, but he just wasn’t comfortable, so after a short bit, we left. At least we knew he was safe.

That week Chris never showed up at school, and I was feeling very bad about whatever happened to him. Also we still owed a lot of money on the MDMA crystal we had been fronted the week before. All the LSD we put in the capsules belonged to us, but the MDMA was fronted, so we still had to pay for that. I made enough at Candyland to cover everything we owed, but after I paid all that back, I wouldn’t have any money left for anything else. I was hoping Chris still had his half of the cash, even though his girl told me he was giving money away to bums that night after they left Wonderland, but I had to wait to see him again before I could ask.

Friday after school Scotty and I went back over to Chris’ house to see how he was doing. I thought he would be much better after a whole week to balance out. But when we got there, he was still acting like he barely knew us. He definitely wasn’t sure if he could trust me. I asked him about the money from that night, and he had no idea he should have even had any money, that was not a good sign. He should’ve had several thousand dollars, but I could tell he honestly had no idea about all that money, where it had gone, or how much he should’ve had. After a while, we left and I decided that I would just cover everything we owed and take the loss, at least my friend was alive and getting slightly better.

It took him several weeks to balance out. He just stayed at home with his parents, and eventually he started to piece the events from that night together. He started to become more himself as more time passed. Finally he was pretty much the same old Chris’ we always knew, though to be honest, he always seemed a little trippier after that experience. Like even when he was sober he seemed like he was tripping a little, with some of the comments he would make, or the way he thought about the world. I don’t think he ever did LSD again after that.

What had happened that night was that he had run into some friends at Wonderland that had some LSD. They gave him two hits of Aztec Calendars, but then dropped a hit of liquid onto each of the hits. He said he could remember watching the drops fall from the vial onto the paper (and hearing him describe the drops falling was pretty funny, he was very descriptive about the way they fell, making long drawn out sound effects to go along with his words). And that was pretty much the last thing he remembers from that night. It was almost unbelievable that 4 hits would do that to him, I saw him eat way more than that almost every weekend for a year. But it was unquestionable, he definitely lost it that night.

During those years I saw 3 people I can remember get lost in a temporary LSD psychosis. Chris’ one was the worst for me, because we were so close, and it really seemed to last so long. It was like he was tripping for almost 3-4 weeks before he began to balance out. My younger brother also had a trip where he ended up in the mental hospital for a few days. But it happened when my parents were out of town, and I was away at college. I was only about 45 minutes away and the hospital called me in my dorm room. I still didn’t have a car, so I took the Tri-rail train down to Hollywood, and Scotty picked me up from the station and we were able to pick up my brother from the hospital without my parents ever knowing. We took him home, set the place up really chill and hung out for a few days until he seemed like nothing had ever happened. His was the most “minor” event in the sense that it seemed like it went away very quickly, though to him it was no minor event at all. He also never touched LSD again after that.

The other guy that I knew was actually the worst of the 3. He was just a friend from school that would buy acid from me from time to time. He bought a few hits and he and some friends all tripped together. But during the trip something happened and he ended up hitting his head and giving himself a concussion. I heard all the stories second hand from his friends mostly (though he did tell me some of them himself about a year later). But he ended up stuck in the trip for the better part of a year. It seemed like he was never going to come down and live a normal life again. He was a really stand-up guy and when he was asked where he got the LSD from, he never gave me up. He did make comments to people apparently about being scared of ravers, “you can’t trust ravers” or to “watch out for ravers, man.” But at some point, he too totally recovered, like nothing ever happened. There must be something about the human mind that allows for adaptability and plasticity of reality. I remember being so relieved that he finally came down. Like I said we weren’t close or anything, but I was on the peripheries of the groups of people he hung out with and would get reports from time to time. So it was on my mind a lot.

At some point maybe about a year or two after he got better, he asked me to hook him up with some acid, but I was too afraid to give him any, so I told him no. It is hard to say if that was the right decision or not, but I just couldn’t have it on my conscience if anything bad happened to him again on LSD I gave him. I don’t think his friends would ever forgive me if things went bad. However after having my own battle with LSD psychosis many years later, I found for me that going back into the LSD experience later on was one of the things that helped me balance out, and come to terms with the whole crazy experience. It helped put things into perspective, see the situation more holistically, and also to integrate the experience into my life. LSD helped me to grow and learn instead of feeling damaged and broken after the whole psychotic break episode. It’s odd how the same substance can bring you into full insanity one time, and then help you recover your sense of self and sanity another time.

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InvisibleAerial Boundaries
Wildlife Analyst

Registered: 07/30/12
Posts: 333
Loc: London
Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: dwpineal] * 1
    #17190678 - 11/09/12 01:24 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

You are a very talented writer, engaging and descriptive. You have obviously had a vibrant and fulfilling life. Now if only LSD weren't so entirely absent in my social circle :razz:

There comes a time for everything though I suppose.


--------------------
"The issue is not whether people are 'good enough' for a particular type of society; rather it is a matter of developing the kind of social institutions that are most conducive to expanding the potentialities we have for intelligence, grace, sociability and freedom." - Paul Goodman (1964)

Edited by Aerial Boundaries (11/09/12 01:24 PM)

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OfflineGigaHurtz1
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: Aerial Boundaries]
    #17210727 - 11/13/12 01:00 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Very interesting stories, love hearing about peoples experiences in things that are not so commonly heard. keep it up! you have talent as a writer, I feel as though I am being put into your mind in the time and place you are describing. pretty wild to me you were in high school for a lot of these stories! keep em' coming!

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Invisibletdubz
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Registered: 02/26/12
Posts: 5,586
Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: GigaHurtz1]
    #17210969 - 11/13/12 03:49 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Interesting stories man dealing a lot of weight takes you to some crazy places and with that comes the serious consequences.

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Offlineshroomer17
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: tdubz]
    #17211008 - 11/13/12 04:20 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Very compelling reading... Well done! Keep it up... Can't wait to read more.

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Invisibledwpineal
Psychedelic Artist
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Registered: 07/20/06
Posts: 4,667
Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: tdubz]
    #17212215 - 11/13/12 11:40 AM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Quote:

GigaHurtz1 said:
you have talent as a writer, I feel as though I am being put into your mind in the time and place you are describing. pretty wild to me you were in high school for a lot of these stories! keep em' coming!




Thanks!

:awethumb:


Quote:

tdubz said:
Interesting stories man dealing a lot of weight takes you to some crazy places and with that comes the serious consequences.




Oh for sure, and I was like the world's worst drug dealer anyway, I was thinking of calling my stories my "Misadventures" because almost every story has some crazy thing I should've done differently...

Also I have a friend currently serving a life sentence for LSD Conspiracy, so I had to get out of that game after seeing how harshly the system deals with us...

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Offlinemattritt
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: dwpineal]
    #17218730 - 11/14/12 01:34 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

Love all your stories!!  Keep em comin!!!!


--------------------
**Metaphysical Crystal, Stones, Gems, and Minerals**
Every individual reacts differently to every chemical.
Know your Body - Know your Mind - Know your Substance - Know your Source.
:bongload:  :gethigh:  "You need more THC to your brain, faster." - Drr  :gethigh:  :bongload:

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Offlinetechnomobster123
I am the Future
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Re: Stories from the Psychedelic Underground [Re: mattritt]
    #17219433 - 11/14/12 03:36 PM (11 years, 4 months ago)

great story, it would make a great film


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"Can't change the world, unless we change ourselves"

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