Citation: Inverted_Colors. "Dude, I AM a Backpack: experience with Unknown (sold as LSD) (ID 78777)". Erowid.org. Sep 2, 2009. erowid.org/exp/78777
[Erowid Note: While it may be that the substance described below is DOC, without more details, this conclusion is speculative.]
I’m not usually one to submit experiences, but I feel that the chemical I took and experience I had with it are most noteworthy due to their rarity with respect to both the recreational drug scene and the entirety of my psychedelic trips. It is rare in the drug scene because of the “bad trips” people have on it, but in actuality, as an experienced tripper, I find it’s everything I could ask for in a psychedelic trip, making it an uncommon landmark when understanding my tripping experiences as a whole.
I suppose I should start that me and my friend went to pick up some “very strong cid” along with some 2c “bee” pills. The blotter was very colorful ranging all the colors of the rainbow just in our 8 strip. “Take one, then decide if you want two, any more and I don’t know if you’ll come back,” they said, referencing a time me and my friend took 4 of the strongest cid we’d seen and tripped for close to a day.
We took the 2-cb the night before and both had missed school/work because we slept through alarms. While wake and baking I proposed taking the acid, my friend replied “how could you say that, you know I can’t resist now!” We took one tab each and finished smoking before we killed a third of a bottle of codeine cough syrup to mellow out and prepare for the trip, but nothing could have prepared me for what I was to experience, the things that happened to me and I saw were far out of any understanding I had at the time, for DOC is visually and mentally much different and more intense than acid, especially in respect to visuals and hallucinations.
We went to campus to get some food; I figured I’d get it now and eat it later. My friends called me a squirrel because I was saving food for the winter in a sense. Walking back to my apartment all the frat kids and sororities were clustered up doing some event. It had been over an hour since I took the blotter and I thought it would be wild to walk through them all, who knows, maybe the breakthrough giggle fit would occur and I would really start tripping hard. We walked through and nothing happened. We continued back to my place to smoke some more, and foolishly decided to take another one. We thought we were peaking on the first one at the time and decided two would be just right, but it was in actuality the very beginning of the first tab coming up.
I absolutely devastated people in super smash brothers on the N64, going so far as to flawless my other friend who is revered as the best at the game among us, defeating him and continuing a dialogue while playing: “What’s wrong? Are you going to hit me or something? Nah. You’re just getting smacked around here. What’s up? Are you on acid or something?” I constantly commented on all the patterns in the room that were growing and becoming more visually distracting. I soon realized the whole room was patterned, and those said patterns were amplified by the DOC. The floor was a meshed grey pattern, the blinds were horizontal lines, vertical lines on the walls between the cabinets, which were patterned with circular oak grains, square tiles shooting across the ceiling spackled with abstract designs, one wall was a flowered wallpaper, they grew and intertwined, went from buds to full bloom, swaying from side to side as if they were blowing in some soft breeze feeling the music that was playing.
This is when the DOC really started hitting me; I was getting really intense waves of a really sick acid body high, exactly like acid, but times one hundred with respect to intensity. I felt nauseated and ran to the bathroom, running through the kitchen the tiles on the floor shot out at me, it was hard to handle all the tiles at once, especially running over them, I couldn’t tell if I was touching the ground or not. I made it to the bathroom and tried to handle myself so to not throw up. My clothes were strangling me; I took off all of them aside my boxers and tried to cool off and just chill. Looking in the mirror my face began to shift, some parts of it portraying more or less detail than others.
Listening to people outside the bathroom and then concentrating on my thoughts I was overwhelmed with a paradox of sound. My ears are receiving the same sound waves at both times, but depending on what my mind pays attention to the bathroom or the room outside decides if I hear their voices as mumbles or clearly as words. I was dumbfounded by the sounds and different pitches to make higher or lower. I decided sound is a very abstract thing, but not as abstract as existence as a whole. I tried to fit my mind to the being in the bathroom I forgot was myself. Who I was, where I was, what was happening to me all rushed into my mind, and in a rush of realizations, peaking with another wave of the body high, I puked into the toilet. Colors were swirling and little designs were floating over my vision of the physical world due to the stress my body was taking. Looking into the mirror I questioned why I took this drug and figured I was overdosing, being on the brink of passing out trying to catch my breath after the puke.
I came up with something to tell everyone when I came out, of course I wasn’t going to tell them I was in my boxers vomiting, it would be kind of weird, especially if everyone was tripping too. I left the bathroom and saw one of my other friends he said “What’s up?” and I was at a complete loss of words, trying to figure out what to say. I went back into the bathroom. I realized what I was going to say again, coming out I dropped my thoughts once again and went back to try to figure out what was happening to my memory. In and out, in and out, eventually I gave up on holding the story in my mind while in both rooms, and to this day I don’t remember what it was, I only remember that I had a story at one point.
My roommate was watching The Tuxedo with Jackie Chan, a lot of it startled me, and all of their faces were squished in the middle like the cover of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. People were sitting around my room and I had my Fender Stratocaster plugged into an amp. Usually when I’m on acid I am pulling a bunch of musical patterns out of thin air seemingly, but on DOC I had no idea what to do with it. I hit strings and different notes, but it didn’t sound too good. The rats in our ceiling skittered and scattered across the tiles and one of my friends told me that I was the electrified version of the Pied Piper. I believed him, it was odd how the situation was like an allusion to the story.
Eventually the patterns in the apartment were too much to handle and I went outside to the spot where we smoke cigs. I stared up at the sky for probably twenty minutes with my hands in my hoodie pockets and sat still in awe. The sky was illuminated with all sorts of unique things flying out of my unconscious. Fully detailed galaxies and stars, planets, spaceships, planes, animals, babies, people, everything was up in the sky having a good old time. Of course though, I lived in New York City and there were probably 5 viewable stars, the rest was probably just the black space. My other friend who was also on two came out to smoke a cig and we talked a little about how strong the “acid” was. A couple minutes go by and another friend comes out and after talking a little he asked “What time is it?” Immediately I blurted out “two thirty,” without even realizing I had spoken. I gave no thought to the actual answer and didn’t even realize I had given an answer until my friend, with his mind completely blown was waving his cell phone in my face with digital numbers showing 2:30 on the spot.
Even now that feat impresses me, but at the time the numbers just looked like alien writing. I looked at my hand and there were little aliens on all of my fingers. “Oh fuck,” I exclaimed, “my fingers are aliens!” Stepping back I then say “Oh fuck, there’s aliens everywhere!” DOC really made my mental image very vivid, such that it was like I was never closing my eyes, and transposed it onto the physical world, so when I started thinking of aliens, my mind put huge, six foot gruesome looking aliens around me, dripping venom and saliva.
We went to 7-11, the whole time everything was shifting and moving. My friend bought Corn Nuts and was completely displeased with his choice. I couldn’t stop laughing at his misfortune and, hysterically laughing, I lost balance and stumbled into bushes on the side of the sidewalk, all the leaves running through my hands. He threw some nuts at a van as it drove by; the sounds it made me believe it was a spaceship hovering on through. I knew nothing else but to continue laughing as hard as I’ve ever laughed before. My friends parted and with me and my original friend who initially took the two DOC tabs with me and we went back to the apartment. We decided we should try to go to sleep, for I had class the next day and he had work. While setting our alarms on our phones, I told him “we should have set our alarms to not trip.” I thought about my sentence deeply while fixing my bed. My friend says “I just tripped balls to that statement,” cracking up I replied “So did I.”
We were very unsuccessful in sleeping, as we were still seeing things that weren’t there absolutely everywhere, there were at least ten things that were hallucinated in our field of vision at all times. We listened to a lot of music, dark side of the moon being played twice. By far my favorite part of the trip happened during the keyboard solo of “Baby I Love Your Way” by Peter Frampton, my closet door turned into a vertical keyboard and all the horizontal lines on it turned into keys on the keyboard, lighting up with colors to match the notes being played. It was so beautiful I nearly cried. We could focus our vision on anything in the room, like the bong, and everything around it would shift and change except for the thing our vision focused on, then, jerking our bodies slightly everything would rush back to the way it was. It was almost like we were slipping through dimensions and just holding onto one thing just barely to keep our place in the limitless layers of dimensions, as in the example the bong.
My friend was absolutely losing it, he turned to me and said, shaking his hands “I AM a backpack!” I laughed harder than before when my friend threw the corn nuts. I couldn’t imagine what was going through his head that he would say that, he looked confused at what he said too. We got into talking and the subject of our conversation became Charles Manson, who completely dumbfounded women with LSD so to appear as a god and start a cult. We both got very weird vibes talking about this, and turning to change a song on the IPod I saw his face underneath my desk. I jumped back, very startled. Lying back on my bed looking at the lights on the ceiling I saw gerbils flying out of the lights and then going past behind a wall over and over again. My friend found this hilarious.
I played Little Martha by the Allman Brothers, I told him this was the most beautiful song ever written, and it’s true, it is. The song was almost a physical object I could touch. I put my hand out telling him “it has all the parts in between” letting the music slide through my fingers. I was having intense flashbacks to the time I discovered the song (you know, the breakthrough time you hear a song and it blows your mind). It was a time I went to the Allman Brother’s concert at Beacon Theater on four hits of acid and 5 doses of molly taken orally. The very first song was Warren Haynes playing Little Martha with a slideshow paying tribute to Duane in the background. It absolutely blew my mind and I remember how everyone went nuts for it. The things I felt and saw were all coming back to me, the song gave me euphoria like no drug has ever given me. Early that morning we went outside for a cig right after the sun rose and the sky was every single color at the same time. It’s an extremely hard visual property to describe, but I could see every color of the spectrum encompassing the whole atmosphere, very pretty.
I tried to read my favorite book of all time, Slaughterhouse-Five, passed down to me from my dad who had read it and signed the cover in the seventies. My favorite chapter is the last, I admire it’s poeticness, and how perfect it is to end the book with. Each word was like a different world in comparison to the sentence as a whole. The sentences made no sense, some of it left me cracking up laughing, each word had such a distinct mental image that I couldn’t piece it together as a whole.
I decided going to class would be torture, but there was one I couldn’t miss, Philosophy. I took the backpack my friend told me he was and instead of putting in it a notebook, I took Slaughterhouse-five. My philosophy teacher is truly brilliant, he had written the textbook, and he had a way with putting very complex ideas into words in such a way that I really ‘discovered’ philosophy in my first year of college. At first his words made no sense, but when I concentrated very hard, I could see what he was saying, literally. I saw it in my mind.
He talked about Einstein’s view of simultaneity through a story of warring nations of Backwardsland and Forwardsland, and how their leaders were signing a treaty on a speeding train as everyone watched. The story went so that there was a light on the desk in the train that was speeding against the direction the train was moving and would show the people outside the train that the leader facing the back of the train as signing the treaty after the leader facing the front of the train, just because the light took longer to reach him. So in the instance inside the train they signed it at the same time, whereas outside the train, one signed it before the other, and everyone pulled out their daggers and stabbed each other. It was a pretty gruesome climax, and when it all hit me that time wasn’t a set thing, and that it is in fact a malleable thing, I was set into complete awe tripping balls mode. I looked at the backpack on the ground with the novel sticking out of it. It was like the whole trip was in one little essence, the book and the backpack. It was all in front of me. I walked out of that class not knowing which way was up.
I went about the day trying to come back to reality after my friend went to work, I kept laughing at the scene where he told me he was a backpack. Eating dinner with my girlfriend I didn’t even touch my food, rather I just looked at her. I told her I was completely out of it. Watching her face, parts of it shifted around. A purple patterned scarf she was wearing made her hair become slightly purple and patterned just like it. I decided she was purple pattern lady, but didn’t tell her. Later that night I spent my last twenty one dollars on a dub and a wrap to smoke with her. What I had feared happened, smoking the blunt didn’t really chill me out, but rather it brought me back up on the DOC, over thirty hours later I was still tripping on those two tabs. All the colors in the room spiraled and everything had a kaleidoscope effect on it. To my surprise, I managed to pass out and my brain reset from the madness.
This trip has stuck with me very strongly. Even now, I continue to have flashbacks to it and perceive the world as I did when I was in this trip. I don’t see this as a side effect, but more of enlightenment. I will continue to walk the path of rainbow road as long as I can, for limitless self discovery, answers to life’s many questions, and understanding of personal being and God await me along my way. Thanks for reading, stay groovy. Peace.
Experience Reports are the writings and opinions of the individual authors who submit them.
Some of the activities described are dangerous and/or illegal and none are recommended by Erowid.