Citation: Eon. "Primal Dance: An Experience with 4-HO-MiPT (exp110835)". Erowid.org. Sep 17, 2017. erowid.org/exp/110835
*Warning* My dosage was way too high, but I am quite insensitive to chemicals, and if I'm going to trip, I want to go as deep as possible. Whenever you plan on doing psychedelics, do your own thorough research, and start with low doses.
Prior to this experience I never had a trip that actually made me question my reality. I had taken low doses of shrooms, MDMA twice and had an addiction to weed for around a year. All trips I did, as well as the smoking were supposed to guide me to the holy grail. To figure out what life actually means. I had experienced 'ego death' on all my previous trips, but as most people do, I went back to my old ways a few days or weeks after each trip.
I acquired 125mg of 4-HO-MiPT after testing a small dose a few days earlier. I arranged a time with a friend on the phone, as he wanted to trip with me. We'll call him Tyler. As we live a long distance from each other, the phone was our form of communication. He was taking 125ug acid, while I was going to take 50 - 75mg of 4-HO-MiPT. I ended up with a slightly larger dose.
21:05 Bullshitting around on Facebook. Suddenly, my friend Tyler sends me a selfie. He's grinning. His tongue sticking out with an acid tab on the tip. 'Oh shit, here we go!' I call him up and we start chatting.
Tyler tells me it's starting to kick in for him, he can feel the tingling in the back of his head and spine. I insufflate 25mg, and swallow another 25mg of my chemical. We chat more as we both come up, and once we start feeling it we start watching a playlist I made for the trip. A lot of Tool, a lot of visuals. The topics we talk about art mostly about art, life and how we as humans have built a society where everyone is running around in circles.
Reality begins to dissolve... My room is still holding together, barely. It feels like everything is underwater. Me and Tyler shift between stupid jokes and deep philosophical topics.
Time is no more.. reality pitched down by around 6 semitones. I see the world through a fish eye lens. I'm just a further evolved, walking fish. By this time, I've taken all 125mg of the 4-HO-MiPT.
By this time, I've taken all 125mg of the 4-HO-MiPT.
A gradual descent into a more slimey and filthy dimension. Things get really weird, but I don't see a point in describing it all. It's safe to say I'm tripping balls by now. Gradually losing the concept of reality.
Tyler has dissapointed me. Towards the end of his peak, he starts making jokes about bedding fat girls, farts and being unambitious. Completely indifferent. I went into this trip to figure some shit out, but he's had his share of psychedelics in the past. It's safe to say he's seen it all. And he shows it. How can he take all this so lightly? How can we become perfect, if we keep acting human?
After mutually agreeing that there is no meaning to life, we start wrapping up. Like the amazing trip was just a film. A mediocre film. The credits have rolled and it's time to change the channel. This pisses me off, but to each his own. I let him go and continue coming down from my trip.
The fun of the trip has worn off. All I'm left with is a sense of restlessness. I try to sleep, but I toss and turn. The world I see looks like a video generated by Google Deep Dream, which I couldn't care less about. I start doing shots of vodka, just to get to sleep. Not a chance. Everything is pitching up and down, and music sounds horrible. I put on an Alan Watts clip on youtube and begin cleaning my house. I feel like I've learned nothing from this trip. It was cool for the first two hours, but just cool. What was the point? I can have fun in cheaper and more comfortable ways than breaking the boundaries of reality. I notice how dirty my house actually is. I always clean it a lot, but mushrooms emphasize all the mold and tiny organisms that live all over your walls and furniture.
I suddenly get a craving to get rid of as much material possessions as possible. Objects that carry no meaning, and take up space. Lighters, random pieces of paper, old boxes. I am curious where those things end up, in the end. The veil of bullshit is now lifted, I realize just how much trash humans actually produce. What a mess. I notice all the filth in my house is living it's own life. Just like humans do on this planet. I hate them all.
I end up staring at myself in the mirror, my face warping between two different forms. One is the me I see every day, the other is an ape. I see the ape for the animal it is. The animalistic breathing, the fur, or hair as we call it, no different from any other animal. The fully present look in it's eyes, as it explores it's own reflection, the curious intrigue. Primal.
I let it sink in, it hits me, and I burst out in laughter. I see the nature of man, and everything makes sense now. All the pain, chaos and randomness. It's all just a dance, Nice one, life. Nice one. Got me good.
I give up on cleaning, and throw on another Alan Watts clip. By now voices sound like demons. Even though I'm not phased or afraid, this condition rules out any music for the rest of the night. Whenever one person speaks, I can hear three voices, one very deep, one regular and one high pitched. I can't even focus on what Mr Watts is saying, because I don't care. I got the point.
I shut down the computer. Walk to my bed, extend my arms and collapse. I sleep like a baby. There's no reason to be afraid.
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