Citation: D X Meth-Head. "DET and the Canticles of Ecstasy: An Experience with DET (exp115238)". Erowid.org. Mar 18, 2021. erowid.org/exp/115238
||(powder / crystals)
||(powder / crystals)
(85mg diethyltryptamine (DET), orally, analysed via GC/MS)
The ecstatic experience is practically impossible to articulate; human beings lack the experiential vocabulary to be able to describe them in the detail that is necessary to fully convey their meaning that it had to the individual that experienced it. I'm not religious, I lived my teenage years on a diet of forced conscription to chapel four times per week since I went to a snotty-nosed Protestant private school (on a full scholarship, mind you...) which deterred me from any inkling that I would believe in the Abrahamic interpretations of God. I thus retaliated by reading copious amount of the hyper-atheists Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens and likewise purported the idea that any form of spontaneous ecstasy would be the result of some psychological misalignment, but an oral ingestion of 85 milligrams of diethyltryptamine was enough for me to completely empathise with those that claim to have had a religious experience. I psychedelically orgasmed, this was the purest ecstasy my human form could tolerate, it was wonderful. William James describes religious ecstasy as being noetic, a feeling to have gained knowledge from something that is hidden from human understanding, this didn't quite fit that, the entire experience felt as though it was human understanding, understanding the very corporeal nature of what it is to be human presented in the most blissful terms possible; Below is a rough transcription of the events that occurred.
18.37pm, I locate myself to the kitchen where I toss 62mg of a pulverulent powder consisting solely of diethyltryptamine into my oral cavity. I swallowed and rinsed down with some tap water. I start to write in my diary and complain that the hominids I live with are addicted to their mobile telephone devices. I try to engage in some light conversation but they seemed transfixed in a hypnagogic haze, staring mindlessly into the shallow abyss that is TikTok, Instagram and Snapchat. I feel a psychological juxtaposition between the mental states of people in the room, a psychedelically impregnated psyche on one hand, and miserable, attention-deficient, infotainment addiction on the other. My friend asks whether I want to go on a walk, which I gladly accept with glee and swallowed another 23mg of DET.
30 minutes after the initial ingestion, I began to feel a coherent cerebral clarity to my thoughts with a tinge of euphoria that didn't seem to cloud their lucidity. Substituted tryptamine ingestion tends to make my legs feel as though their undergoing uterine contractions, and it was no different with DET, imagine the muscle contractions of the detrusor muscle in the bladder wall when you need a piss, but spread out through the entirety of my legs, I refer to them as 'tryptamine tingles' but I don't know if that will take hold. My friend and I continued to walk for some time up a large hill, the branches of trees began to take the appearance of neural networks, each branch swaying as though my psychical frame rate had dramatically decreased, I was smiling so intensely that my occipitalis muscles at the back of my head were beginning to cramp. I stared at the city below the brow of the hill and began to think about human beings, the nature of memory, love for my family and gratitude. This made me weep uncontrollably, my awe-palsied hands covered my face, heaps and heaps of oceanic bliss poured over me as though I was being anointed with bucket-fulls of love that was collected from every being that had ever experienced love. My friend kindly tolerated my weeping until we walked back towards the city.
It was at this point that a homeless man approached us and went on a speech for some time about his ills. I tried not to laugh, psychedelics tend to make people laugh uncontrollably and I could feel a bout of laughter bulging from my gelatological underbelly. He scrutinised us for some time to which I couldn't form a coherent response, I wanted to say that I was 'tripping balls' but he didn't seem to want to stop talking.
Lets actuate to some time later (around 21.30pm), I made it back to my flat and locked myself in my room and stripped naked. I lay on my bed, writhing in a contortion of psychedelic ecstasy, I was an epileptic Ian Curtis moaning with each pulsation of paradisiacal bliss, this was the material embodiment of the Canticles of Ecstasy, like I was in Hieronymous Bosch's painting The Garden of Earthly Delights tryptic. I ululated screams of joy, my brain bathed in a paradisiacal abode where sickness and death and misery were totally unknown. Tears streamed from my lachrymal glands to the extent that my duvet was wet with tears. I grabbed my diary and inscribed the following :
THERE IS NOT A THING IN THE WORLD THAT CAN COMPARE TO THE IMMENSE AMOUNT OF BLISS I HAVE GONE THROUGH, DIETHYLTRYPTAMINE IS THE SAVIOUR. PUREST ECSTASY FOR THE HUMAN FORM.
I contemplated about the love that my family has shown me since I first inhabited this body and realised how transient this family unit was, there will be a time in which I am as old as my grandparents and the rest of my family that I know now will have passed away, the love and affection that I show them in this lifetime will be the only love I can ever express to them, and thus I should always make the most of the opportunities that I have to show my true affection for them. My body continued to writhe around profusely, my eyes undergoing an oculogyric crisis, the people living next to me must have thought I was having the best sex of my life...no, this was far better.
Anyways, to cool down I had a passionate cold shower and stared at my naked body transmogrifying in the mirror and decided to socialise in a flat on another floor. Remember, the human populous is undergoing an outbreak of a submicroscopic virus known as SARS-CoV-2, so socialising with people is in most senses is entirely illegal. In this flat there were roughly 15 teenagers, most orally ingesting diluted ethanol solutions, smoking a strange-smelling herbal product or huffing nitrous oxide filled latex balloons. I had some swell conversations with people, although most oriented around the following dialogue:
YOU'RE ON DMT?
NO, DET, DIETHYLTRYPTAMINE, ITS AN N,N-DIETHYLATED HOMOLOGUE OF TRYPTA...OH NEVER MIND...
As I was engaging in these repetitive dialogues, the police decided to turn up and give us a telling off about how we shouldn't be socialising and that we had been very naughty children. Most people defecated themselves on the spot, but I was rather sociable and wanted to start a dialogue with them, but someone escorted me away from this possibility. The police don't trust people whose pupils are equi-width with their irises. The nicer, and plumper, police man allowed us to leave without fining us, but one of his associated shouted as we walked out:
YOU'RE NOT LETTING THEM GO ARE YOU?
Without this becoming too belaborous, to summarise the final few hours of this experience, I decided to walk around the seemingly never-ending stairs to the top floor of my apartment building and met a man who played me a guitar song whilst singing, then went to another flat and smoked so much weed that my thought processing capabilities were equal to that of a 5 year old and spoke with some men about Descartes. I'm sure Descartes would have loved DET, but he would have liked ketamine more. Thats my guess.
DET, my favourite dialkylated tryptamine experience I have had thus far. Gorgeous psychoactive character, I will be revisiting this compound very soon.
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.