Citation: Gage. "Paranoid Ego: An Experience with 1P-LSD (exp110011)". Erowid.org. Feb 24, 2017. erowid.org/exp/110011
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While I do write articles, a book, some poetry and other works, never before this had I written a trip report.
A summary of the trip:
This was my third time tripping, and it so happened to have been on the weekend of Bicycle Day (I'm sure most dedicated psychonauts will know what I'm talking about here) so I was all in all feeling okay about this; expecting to be launched into a hyperspace of thought as per.
I was actually meant to be tripping alone with my dearest and oldest friend, Dan. We had arranged to meet our dealer (who is kind of a friend) in a village where I grew. This was very far away from where we wanted to be, but it didn't matter at the time. We were going to walk back on a tramroad (an old rail road through forestry) whilst tripping on the first tab, whilst taking the other later when we arrived in our own town 45 minutes away on foot.
So we meet up with our dealer, we buy the tabs but he asks us to walk around with him for a while. And say sure, why not. We go for a walk through the old abandoned bakery (this place is huge) and take a tab there and smoke a few J's (slang term for joint or weed).
It's now quite late, about 7PM, and I've ingested 100ug of a tab with '1P-LSD' printed onto it.
Me and Dan decide it's time to leave, as we don't want to be peaking in a dark forest pathway and would like to enjoy the psychedelic buzz in a location that is a comfortable walking distance from our homes, so we say farewell. Though, our dealer, who will now be given the name, Tommy (as he does latch on to this story like a bad habit), says he can give us all a lift back, which me and Dan agree on. We wait five minutes, and we are gone within five minutes.
Halfway through this car journey I start to notice it.
Tommy's girlfriend's mother (who I've never fucking met) is driving me and Dan whilst I am starting trip my fucking balls. I get a metallic taste in my mouth. My cheeks feel like they're being slightly sucked in and my mouth feels very vibrant all of a sudden. My eyes start to blink more, and the feeling that is like someone just opened a window happens in my brain.
I was starting to trip.
30 minutes after initial dose we arrive in town, and we all decide to just hang around the doorway of a church by a Library, near a big carpark in town (stupid fucking idea, wasn't mine I assure you) and smoke some weed there. Tommy pulls out a bottle of vodka and decides to drink next to his girlfriend. This isn't what I wanted at all, and was starting to feel trapped and quite anxious at this point. Feeling as though because Tommy was underage drinking and smoking green, this would not paint a pretty Van Gough painting to potential police that would occasionally drive past us on a busy night in town.
Then, something happens. I don't know what but, the familiar feeling I had on my previous LSD trips starts to come alive. A feeling I can only describe as pure, clean, conflict. Where the two sides of the same coin meet. The church bells begin to ring, and they echo on forever. I felt like Venom from Spiderman when he starts to scream and rip the symbiote from his body as the sonic waves shake the demons from his soul.
The bells just never ended, but the landscape in front of me began to. Everything started to echo, I wasn’t living in the real origin of reality anymore, just its echo.
I look at my group, and they aren't the same people. I don't know why, but there was just a demon sitting behind the eyes and smile of everyone there. It was terrifying, they made me feel like I could cease to exist at any moment.
I say that I can't stay out any longer, I'm beginning to have a bad trip. Tommy insists I stay as I still have my other tab to take but I just can’t muster the strength to. Dan and I leave the two to their night, and we head home. We complain along the way saying we don’t feel good, and it’s time to go home.
I eventually get home. I walk through the door at 11pm and my mother asks as I walk up the stairs,
“Gage, where have you been?”
At this point the bad trip demons are still circling my senses and cognitive function, so I reply with a confused yet blunt, “I don’t know”.
I head to my room and begin to try and ride it out. I take my other tab (for some stupid fucking reason) and lay in bed, in the dark, looking at what I described in its colour and theme, a palma violet-style coloured room for the rest of the night. My parents also decided to have sex at 1am, and being hypersensitive, I could hear everything.
It was probably the most terrible time I have ever had on LSD (at that point anyway), but at some point in the night I actually documented my thoughts and feelings. This is probably the gone-off cherry on the turd that was my trip, for I think this captures and encapsulates the way I felt the most.
So, here it is:
“You become a soooping heavily dulled and numbed psychological mind fuck.
And it's those fucking eerie echoes that make my skin crawl with goosebumps like maggots on a corpse. The noises that don't need to be there. That's the worst part of it all. You get plopped out of the picture for a second. Like it's an actual getaway from reality for a few moments that seem to last so long, torturous and unbearable. You think you'll never be able to get back. You're stuck In your own psychological sandwich or cocoon or whatever in a little bubble somewhere else, and could easily like you have forgotten others, be forgotten like the sweetest breath of fresh air.
You get plonked, everything quirky and unimaginable becomes so vivid and insane. I know the actual meaning of insanity now when everything becomes so personal. But don't think I'll forget this time. Don't you think I'll ever forget what I felt. I know I felt it before and I forgot. But never what happened tonight shall ever be forgotten in the winds that like to blow away secrets.
You're more worried about where your body is. When it all does its thing you need to know you're not in a puddle somewhere frothing and chewing the kerb like an eager after Saturday drunkard passed out in town. You need to make sure you're safe and not making a fool out of yourself somewhere and you feel like crying. I have no fears but if something ever made me close to feeling what I did this night, it couldn't have been far from fear itself.
I kept leaving and coming back. The people I was with, even I knew they felt it. It was perfect. You could see the looks on their faces with what they'd just seen, and they thought they were the only ones so alone and so out of touch with reality thinking they're so alone. But I would look at them and give them that subliminal nod, just to let them know there's another who knows that discomfort, and it's okay. Because you just feel so lost and trapped and horrible. You've no where else to run. You're at your end and it seems like reality is just making you watch slightly your everyday life just in a different set of weird glasses, like it's a non existent but ever existent thing besides you fuelling thought and knowledge.
It uses projections or people you used to care dearly about as tools to show you nothing exists. They turn on you, they look upon you with smiles and laughter but not of happiness you're sure. Time pauses, but you do not, and neither do your projections.
Reality literally falls apart. And the aftermath of LSD is you putting it back together.”
So there it is. This was my first ever full-length bad trip (I consider a bad trip a trip that is pure shit from start to finish).
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