Citation: D_Blaze. "Infinite Complexity: An Experience with 25I-NBOMe, Cannabis, Adderall, Tobacco & Clonazepam (exp100262)". Erowid.org. Jan 21, 2014. erowid.org/exp/100262
Over the past decade, I’ve dabbled lightly into a wide variety of psychoactive substances (e.g. cocaine, opioids, benzodiazepines, mephedrone) but have entirely avoided psychedelics (excluding cannabis) since my first experience with that drug family eight years ago. The now distant experience to which I refer entailed consuming half of a morning glory seed pod and undergoing a terrifying thirty-six hours of hallucinations, disassociation, and other frightening effects that turned me off to psychedelics for the subsequent seven years. Over the past year, however, I’ve cultivated an interest in LSD and similar 'research' chemicals and performed a reasonable amount of online research on the subject. Upon acquiring 25I-NBOMe from a friend, I finally felt prepared for my first trip. Despite my research and countless conversations with friends who had tripped or were currently tripping on acid, I had no idea what was in store.
- 0:20: I consume 20mg Adderall IR orally (this is a normal dose for me, as I take about 60mg daily).
+ 0:00: I place one square of 25i-NBOMe blotter on my tongue. It slowly dissolves with a mild numbing sensation and a faint bitterness dissipating throughout my mouth. I avoid swallowing my saliva for about fifteen minutes, upon which the paper is almost entirely dissolved. At this point, I swallow the saliva and the remaining fibers of the dose.
+ 0:20: The first signs of the trip begin with a mild anxiety and the slight trace of a headache in the right hemisphere of my brain. I inhale two hits of potent cannabis and lie down in Shavasana, a yoga position/asana also known as the “corpse pose.” I remain in this pose for about twenty minutes with my eyes closed, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest during each deep breath. The only light in my room emits from the color-changing LED of a light-up Frisbee. Mozart’s symphonies are playing softly in the background. I feel calm and meditative as I slow my thoughts along with my breathing.
+ 0:40: Upon opening my eyes, I find myself a bit disoriented, somewhat unfamiliar with my immediate surroundings. The feeling is similar to waking up after a long sleep and finding oneself in an unexpected place. This subtle confusion soon fades as I focus on the texture of the ceiling above me. I begin experiencing open-eye visuals of fractals slowly rotating and tessellating across the ceiling. This initially reminds me of “Magic Eye” visuals I used to see in books, but with several added layers of complexity. For instance, the fractals seem to radiate in wave formations as they change shape. Furthermore, colors within the formations on the ceiling are fluid, heterogeneous, and truly captivating. A particularly striking constellation appears as a tessellating six petal flower that seems to radiate energy with a glistening “zing.” This my first encounter with synesthesia and I find it enthralling. I’m beginning to experience colors rather than merely observe them. Upon closing my eyes again, a deep, rich purple nearly overwhelms me with its sublime “purpleness.”
+ 0:50: My first stomach pains begin. The mild pains are reminiscent of acid reflux, but incur more of a “tightening” sensation. These pains come and go with varying levels of severity for the next few hours. They never grow unbearable, but are occasionally unpleasant to the point of disrupting my phantasmagoric trip. Taking a few chewable antacids every couple hours seems to mitigate the discomfort.
+ 1:15: For the next two hours or so my trip escalates intermittingly, oscillating between successively deeper trains of thought and shallower, semi-euphoric states of amazement, often dominated by breathtaking visuals. I focus on the undulating patterns in a rug for some time, growing convinced that the rug contains everything I’ve ever considered beautiful. The delightful visual distortions lead me to ponder what constitutes art. Given the endless beauty within the rug, I begin to realize the superficiality of most of that which we consider art and begin thinking about the basic qualities that distinguish art from non-art. Starting from this quasi-logical approach, my thought-process speeds up and my rationality is no longer able to keep up with the apparent revelations my mind divulges.
A remarkable change in my thinking emerges seamlessly from the magnificently complex visual distortions that characterized the first stage of the trip. As I close my eyes, images of familiar faces and shapes begin to split apart from the center in four symmetrical pieces. As they move from the center outward, it begins to feel as if I’m traveling through a tunnel with vivid images on the walls. Each image is unique, though similar, even as I pick up speed and begin racing through the tunnel. Before long, my mind begins to wander through two such tunnels simultaneously, one for each closed eye. Together, the tunnels follow a double helix pattern. Frequently, a cross-section of the tunnel will be incongruent, with a sharp edge that doesn’t seem to belong to the otherwise smooth sequence of identical shapes. Every time this happens, I manage to “zoom out” from the situation and the entire double helix becomes a mere panel on the inside of a larger, more complex tunnel encompassing endless panels. It’s as if each apparent imperfection is part of a larger, more perfect system that nothing can disrupt. Each “zoom out” adds a layer of complexity and a new dimension of beauty.
My mind begins to interpret the vast intricacies of the tunnel walls as potentials for my future. Thoughts are racing and seemingly revelatory, but each time I attempt to deduce a logical truth, I find myself unable to do so, as if the n-bomb were telling me to stop trying to understand with my preconfigured prejudices and to simply experience what lay before me. I begin to play music in my head, starting with a hard beat and looping chords, similar to techno rave music. I finally understand why techno and acid go so well together, as the beats seem to guide and regulate my journey through the double helix tunnels. I think of how I’ve never considered my potential to create music, and I decide to explore it. On top of the techno beats and sound effects, I add a layer of rock music (instrumentals and vocals) and it sounds amazing. I add a classical violin and a flute section and everything about the music is breathtaking. Some “inner voice” seems to tell me that this is merely a demonstration of the wondrous potentials I could achieve with my mind. I felt like I was using parts of my brain that had remained dormant since infancy and early childhood. Never before have I experienced so much conscious mental activity. My sober brain could never process such complex symphonies of sound, light, music, and reflection.
A recurring theme in my thoughts is that of removing prejudices from the way I interpret things. This applied especially to words, which seemed to offer such an obfuscated and false understanding of the relationships between things. I saw that individuals often hate one another merely because of group identities, which are epitomized in labels. A label can tell only a tiny part of a person’s story, and can thus serve to position individuals against one another arbitrarily. Such labels are convenient for achieving a [false/incomplete] sense of understanding, but potentially harmful when they blind the labeler to the totality of the labeled. For instance, I can no longer regard others as liberal, conservative, or independent, as I am all of these without contradiction. I am a part of something greater than myself that contains everything, and everything is as it must be.
Occasionally, with decreasing frequency over time, I would get distracted or otherwise start to “come back” from the deep trip immersing my consciousness. I would sometimes find hilarity in the ever-changing thought processes endured by my brain and laugh full-heartedly. Other times I would be blown away by how powerful this experience was and laugh with astonishment, thinking “why the hell did I wait so long to try acid!?” The deepest phases of the trip were the most thrilling, so I tried to return to that mindset as often as possible.
Time seemed entirely irrelevant. When my thoughts started to slow down, I attributed this to fatigue, given the tremendous amount of energy my mind was using. I drank a bottle of “pre-workout fuel” (with a high sugar content) to revitalize my mind. It worked. From a closed-eye, slumped posture on the couch, akin to a fetal position, I began to feel as if my whole organism were about to blossom. The slender S-curve of a drooping flower petal, which seemed so prevalent in nature, seemed to characterize my energy and all of the closed eye visuals radiating through my eyelids. It was then that I felt an indescribable urge to arch my back, tilt my head back, and reach my pointed fingers high into the air, stretching and opening them wide along with my eyes, embracing the nourishment of all the radiant skies in the universe to which I belonged. A huge rush overcame my body as dazzling yellow light showered from above. It felt as if I’d truly achieved a spiritual rebirth (note: I am a secular atheist, but I have no better words to describe this event). When the rush subsided, I felt entered a more relaxed stage of what I concluded to be that legendary emotion known as psychedelic bliss.
+ 4:15: The trip had already proven far more intense than I’d anticipated and a creeping anxiety began to surface. I smoke a bowl of weed and am able to restore some of the more pleasant effects of the trip. The tunnel-travel is simpler and less intense, but the hilarity of certain wild thoughts and perceptions continues. I soon consume 0.5 mg of Clonazepam (orally) and take two drags from a cigarette. I hardly ever smoke tobacco or take benzos. The cigarette tastes amazing and restores a trivial degree of normalcy to my mindset. My anxiety rapidly subsides while my mental fatigue increases. I smoke another bowl and reflect upon the wonderment I’d discovered. I decide that I must share this experience with others. I want to find an old homeless woman and give her a hit of this magic, as I know she’ll be blown away with a euphoric state of broadened understanding. I want all of my friends to appreciate the unfathomably deep beauty that nearly drowned me in tears of joyous gratitude.
+ 6:00: I go to bed and gaze at the ceiling. RGB dots vibrate pleasantly across the plaster heavens. I grin idiotically and think to myself “I could never ask for anything more from a substance,” before drifting peacefully into a long slumber. Somehow I know with certainty that my life is forever changed for the better.
COPYRIGHTS: All reports are copyright Erowid and you agree not to download or analyze the report data without contacting Erowid Center and receiving permission first.
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 Center.