Citation: nervewing. "Creature of the Night: An Experience with 4-HO-MiPT (exp114214)". Erowid.org. Mar 23, 2020. erowid.org/exp/114214
T0:00- Dose taken as I was clocking out of work. It is bitter cold outside, I decide Iím going to walk home, ~4 miles. I bundle up but the winter night manages to bite through all of my layers.
T0:32- Mostly feeling sick and uncomfortable. Cramps and tightness in my abdomen. A bit of a flighty twisty feeling in my walk.
T0:38- Iím jellylegged, shivering, and unwelcome inside of my own body. My sense of self feels like a membrane inside of my flesh, under great tension until it snaps, becoming twisted and misaligned, like a blanket twisted up inside of its cover. I feel like Iím choking on my guts as visuals begin to pulse and bleed in, a tangle of throbbing vines strangling their way into the edges of my vision, their grip tight and electric. My mind is roasting and sizzling, pumped with crackling vibration. My thoughts become loud and articulate, and my stream of thought sounds like conversation with some coherent 3rd person. I have been walking around the campus of an old expensive and highly prestigious college, towered over by the industrial hospital buildings at its fringes, blasting clouds of steam into the frigid night. I have to cross a highway exit ramp and a bridge over the expressway, the sound and the weight of the cars tearing around me is dazzling and terrifying, and their bestial roar of fire and metal reverberates around my mind and shakes my bones.
I am acutely aware of my flesh and blood, of its warmth and motion, the nerves shackling my limbs with electricity and the wetness of my sinew. Of the little exothermic reactions by billions of little enzymes and the heat that permeates my body from it. Despite the discomfort engendered by all of this I feel stimulated, pumped up and exhilarated. I want to walk onwards into winters maw.
T0:52- I am now across the river. I found a hole cut into a fence and have found a nice little hiding place, tucked under a bridge and next to freight tracks. A behemoth train is stopped there, and I sit in the dusty ballast to smoke some cannabis. There is activity above me on the bridge, and buzzing all around me on the roads, and in the buildings towering above too, but I take solace in knowing I am hidden away in the midst of it, invisible in my patch of dirt and gravel. I feel like a little night creature, like a raccoon or a cat, skulking around in the alleyways behind peopleís houses, slipping away when detected. I feel mischievous and impish, like I am filled with a sardonic and hyperactive energy. I want to creep around in shadows forever.
The visuals are now all consuming, creeping in like time lapse videos of ferns unfurling their fronds, fanning out and blossoming, fractal and botanical, and flashing with stripes and scallops that oscillate between deep violets and lime greens and magentas and dull olives. The visuals trace paths through my field of vision like laser fast snails tearing their way through a layer of algae on aquarium glass, leaving neon tracers in their wake, itís all so fast and chaotic and automatic and oddly organic and natural, yet at the same time utterly alien, the cookery of some trickster spirit from another world trying to imitate the replication and motion and energy in the depths of all living things.
T1:00- I am now walking into the heart of the city, I almost throw up several times while walking. Motion and cold seem to suppress the trip a bit, but when I stop moving it catches up with me. There is so much sound and it gets trapped in the tangled web of living pulsing breathing visuals, like dust caught in rivulets on a driveway. Everything is dragged around by the sensory experience. I feel playful and energetic and stimulated, like a little creature exploring somewhere new. I want to run into all the little alleyways and climb everything and run jump and play, but I restrain myself. Itís too cold to really get myself going anyways, though the trip has warmed me up enough inside that I could unzip my outer layers. I wish I could go swimming right now, it seems like a perfect way to expend this energy.
T1:45- The city is so bright and there are people walking around everywhere. I catch snippets of conversation when they walk past, catch their facial expressions in the hum of the perpetual daylight that lines the streets; rainbow tendrils sprout from my mind latch onto each person, trying to trace out their memories and what brought them to be here, in this moment. My brain feels like itís feeling around the world with pseudopods, curious and inquisitive and flashing with muted color in the stale light of a frigid night. I sit down in a park and smoke some more, the world glowing and twinkling around me as the visuals continue to intertwine and dance and play across my field of vision. Itís hard to sit still for too long so I get up and continue walking home. I feel like a little creature borne from the sinews and energy of the structures around me, pulsing with the electricity of the jungle of wires that permeates every block, caked with the dirt I was sitting in and the braced into the timidity of the cold air.
T2:20- Iíve arrived home now. My ears are ringing and I can feel the blood rushing through my body as it adjusts to the sudden change of temperature. I take off most of my layers and bask in the warmth of my room, though my extremities are still tight and frosty. As I lie still and take stock of my surroundings, the trip that had shrunk from the cold winter night now blossoms inside of me, unrestrained. Visuals pulse and breathe into everything now, radiating heat from their newfound energy. I am cooking in their tangle, they tear through me and ensnare my organs. I still feel a measure of nausea and discomfort but it is now at least partially masked by a pleasant warm tingling body buzz that travels up and down me. I feel dazed and burned out and disoriented, my thoughts dance and chase each other around and I canít quite keep track of them, so I content myself with putting on some music and laying on my bed and letting them run themselves out like letting a dog play until itís tired enough to go to sleep.
T3:20- I become very reflective and introspective- I have been reading through the document where I record every trip I have ever had- each entry a numbered use of the substance and a brief description of the set and circumstances of the trip. Itís a wonderful little record of my entire adult life and I reminisce on the experiences as I read each one, piecing together larger structures and information about my life as I want, noticing patterns and trends in my usage. The dancing chasing creatures of my brain have calmed down and Iíve wrangled them into serving me, the pistons of my mental machine working seamlessly and efficiently now.
Visuals have simmered down to a mere adornment at this point, colorful flashing vines draped on a great temple, gentle and not choking. I smoke some more weed. A friend starts talking to me about fighting and stuff, everything they are saying seems profound and distinct. Every word a hard hitting truth, a thrust through my chest with a neon lance. I just want to talk and read and think, everything has settled into place so nicely.
T5:40- Iíve showered and lounged around my room and talked to friends and drifted around my room a bunch. Iíve been on a gradual comedown, the colors draining from my line of sight, sneaking out as subtle flashes and glimmers. My thoughts are warm and gentle, no longer racing or intensely assertive as before- just matter of fact, warm and cogent. I feel good, not a chemical euphoria but a calm and stalwart self-assuredness and confidence. My chest is a hearth where a cozy fire burns out. The intense stimulation and nausea have passed at this point and I just feel awake and alert.
T7:00- Back to baseline by now, only stoned. Go to sleep.
Conclusion: 4-HO-MiPT is a chemical I have oft revisited. It carries a gripping bodyload on the comeup, a turbulent ascent, but it quickly levels off in a delightful cognitive thunderstorm. The visuals are typically reminiscent of lifeforms blossoming and spreading, fronds and feathers and webs ad scallops and radiant forms, pulsing with greenish colors. This chemical has an essence of fire and life in it, it excites instinct and taps into something primal within the mind, processing things matter-of-factly to allow the body to lucidly navigate its environment. Iíve found it makes thoughts coherent, active, and articulate, particularly on the comedown, and has therapeutic potential in that regard. The overall feel of it is warm and stimulating, mischievous and playful. This is a good drug for doing things outside, long walks or hiking or climbing or exploring. It is stark and direct, stern like the sun beating down on a summer day and grounded with a tense energy like the trees and the millions of things living among their roots. 4-HO-MiPT is an insect that flits around the brain, lighting up neurons and sending showers of radiant unfurling sparks into the darkness.
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