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Wandering Star
Registered: 04/02/05
Posts: 84
Last seen: 11 years, 6 days
My first acid experience years ago...
    #4610664 - 09/02/05 12:23 AM (11 years, 1 month ago)

Reading these trip reports makes me remember my first time ever tripping on acid. This a long story, I tried my best to recount everything that I can remember? read it when you have the time, there are some real gems in here!

The Beginning:

I remember a friend of mine, Dan, took me to a rave at a local club solely to get his hands on some acid. It was like a mission or something. He listens to punk, rock, and a little rap but not techno. At the time I was not big into techno music and had never been to a rave, either, so I felt a bit like a fish out of water.

Anyways, we find ?the guy? (and the only person there selling acid, mind you), and he takes me behind some speakers and drops two hits on my tongue from a dropper. Mmmm, Icy Mint flavor. It?s actually in one of those mint dropper things you buy from the store for a buck? lol. I thought that was kinda weird. Anyways, my buddy ended up buying the whole vial off of him and dealing it himself and made a huge profit? that kid was a smart motherfucker! Fast forward a few hours and I?m not feeling a thing.

I told him the stuff is bunk. Since my friend has pretty much dosed everyone in the club who?s interested and made all his money back and then some, he hooks me up for free. Two more hits? boom boom. That?s when it starts to kick in, well sorta. I swear this builds up for HOURS, and that?s real time - not time dilation. I feel all friendly; I actually start talking to girls, etc etc. The rave kinda winds down around like 4 am, and we?re making arrangements with some friends Dan made in the club to take them home.

The Trip:

I?m driving around a city I?ve never been to before, high on acid, looking for two kid?s houses to drop them off at when Dan decides it?s a great time to start fucking with me. I?ve dropped the last girl off at her house and I?m waiting at a light to get on the interstate when Dan says ?You know you?ve sat through this light twice now, right?? Asshole! A little while later driving on the freeway I?m staring at pink clouds doing 90mph (its 5 am on a Saturday, and there is nobody on this road)? he does it again. ?Hey man, you drove us to L.A.? just as we pass the sign that says 1-10 to Los Angeles? again it takes me a minute to recover. Asshole!

We pass a guy who?s driving under 15mph on the interstate. No joke. I even stopped, on the freeway, because apparently he was the goofiest looking motherfucker on the face of the planet and Dan cannot stop laughing about it. ?No no, just wait here, he?ll catch up, you gotta see him!? He never caught up. I started going again, and eventually we go to Dan?s house? or at least the place he was staying. With his friend and her mom. Who are asleep. At 6 am. With two kids totally fucked up on acid. We tried to stay quiet in the living room, amusing ourselves with little things here and there. Mostly I remember playing with his water bottle. It was a white water bottle on which he had written ?Dan?s water bottle? with a permanent marker. The letters seemed to melt away and rewrite themselves, over and over. We both saw it, clearly it was truly happening!

It?d be a good idea if we didn?t stay, so we just hung around the apartment complex parking lot. We both saw a primer gray 70?s Chevelle in the parking lot that someone just left running? wait no, it?s vibrating, but the engine isn?t on. I touched it. It?s not really moving. Then we see a house with a tile roof, very common in the Southwest, with 3 different shades of red in the tiles. The tiles are wavy, and they look like they?re rippling, shifting? trying to spell something. We stood in that parking lot staring at a guy?s roof for at least 10 minutes trying to decipher the message. Dan thought we needed more acid, so we took one more hit for good measure. It didn?t help things.

Moving on because we?re thirsty, we decide to head down to the local AM/PM for a soda. We pass several water stains along the sidewalk from the sprinklers, each one looking like a pit filled with oil. I can see my reflection in the opalescent fluid, yet the cement is totally dry to the touch. Standing and waiting at the crosswalk, Dan freaks me the fuck out buy informing me of the guy that is staring at us from his truck in the intersection. He?s sat through two lights now and is just staring. Sure enough I turn around and that guy is giving us the hairy eyeball from hell. I look up at the light, and it?s green so I start to walk. Finally the guy gets the clue that its time to go and drives on?

I walk in and out of an Am/Pm without paying for the 44oz soda the clerk watched me pour. I get outside and meet Dan, who?s playing with something in the parking lot of the store. I realize that I didn?t steal anything; I just walked out with a cup of ice.

The rest gets a little fuzzy. I remember staring at the ground back at Dan?s apartment complex parking lot and seeing ants. Truly they were there, I squashed some. I called a girlfriend at like 8 in the morning apparently; she showed me her phone log several days later. I have no idea what I talked about if anything. She says she didn?t pick it up. We?ll never know for sure.

Spongebob Square Pants is lost on children. That cartoon is clearly made for people who are ridiculously fucked up on drugs, end of story. The Matrix puts thoughts in your head that shouldn?t be there.

Drinking water is a godsend. Clearly this is liquid silver, no gold, shit no? PLATINUM! It?s the best thing ever! ?It?s what sustains life on this planet? Dan calmly informs me. Oh yes, I had forgotten. I?ll never drink soda again.

I stare off at the ceiling while Dan contemplates the inner workings of the Matrix. An interwoven pattern of Celtic knots races across the ceiling, and I look around for what?s making the reflection on the ceiling. Nothing, as no light is really coming through the small window by the door. I look back up, and its still there, brighter than ever. It pops out a foot, and slowly breathes. Beautiful craftsmanship, headstones don?t look this good?

Back in the girl?s room, she is trying her hardest to stay asleep with two tripping friends in her room. Bless her heart. Her blanket is that fluffy micro fiber stuff, and each tiny strand is waving at me like some kind of amoeba on the bottom of a sea. It breathes, but it?s her breathing, no its not. I tried to draw her sleeping so peacefully, but got stuck on her closed eye in profile. Her makeup was smearing back along her face. I frantically tried to catch that in my sketchbook? it?s no use.

Dan tries to draw in my sketchbook, and then informs me that if I don?t concentrate on what I?m drawing, the pencil will do it for me. I draw something that has stuck with me for the rest of my life. An eye with irises within irises, animalistic in places, where the universe unfolds from one of the pupils up to the heavens, while the reflection off the eye creates palettes of color? all within the confines of a 2? by 2? scribble. I?ve redrawn it larger several times while sober and while on other drugs; it will never look as beautiful?

Side note: Eventually I?ll scan these in and show them off, they are absolute crap but the motion I somehow managed to capture is really good. Looking at them now, I remember another drawing I did while staring off into one of her trippy posters. It was some spiraling spheres and nonsense, but within these moving spheres I clearly saw a fetus growing inside of a mother?s stomach, and I drew that. It came out with like 4 legs and six arms in a wild fury of scribbling, but I managed to get the idea down and later redrew it a little more clearly. I need a scanner? but back to the story.


I left his house somewhere around 3 to take him to work, still coming down after the peak at noon. The drive was hell. Traffic is a bitch to dodge, and the roads were waving, bucking, and breathing. Twice I imagined the road opening up and swallowing the car, like in a movie I saw where the guy was driving on acid. The shower later sorta took the edge off, but the pin-pricking feeling was annoying. The shivers got pretty bad too.

Work was impossible after the comedown. People hid in trashcans behind every desk and corner. I wore headphones in a really loud area, where I was the only person in a very large room. Twice my boss came up to talk to me, and as I removed my headphones to hear and turned to face her, she was not there. It was so vivid. And just to fuck with me, once I thought I saw the security guard staring at me from behind the glass. I kinda brushed it off, having had the boss lady experience twice already. It crept, just a bit, not knowing for sure though, and so I turned around. He truly was there, staring?

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