Citation: Victor Borge. "An Agnostic Meets His Higher Power: An Experience with DMT, DPT, Moclobemide & Nitrous Oxide (exp41106)". Erowid.org. Jun 7, 2005. erowid.org/exp/41106
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Freebase DMT was not something I ever really imagined having a chance to taste, but as with so many of the most profound and important experiences in life, it more or less fell into my lap, and all I had to do, all I could do, was make the best use of it I could.
Set and setting: alone in my condo on a Friday night. It had been a long time (relatively) since I had last used psychedelics. In the meantime I had been practicing meditation, strengthening and exploring my own mind and spirit, and making some important steps forward with my life. I felt confident and ready for anything.
On this evening I had decided to re-attempt, together, two well-regarded tryptamines I had tried before individually and had had disappointing experiences with, while still feeling there was potential in. To wit, I would be ingesting N,N-DPT and N,N-DMT, stacked on top of each other, potentiated with an MAOI and garnished liberally with nitrous oxide.
(+0:00) - I predosed with 150mg of moclobemide.
I did not plan to take either tryptamine orally, so this was largely a superfluous step, but I wanted to maximize the effect of both substances as much as possible, since standard doses had not worked for me in the past. NOTE that if either substance had been an amphetamine or phenethylamine, I would emphatically NOT have used an MAOI. But with tryptamines, as long as I am careful with dosage, I have never had ill effects with MAOIs, just stronger experiences.
(+1:00) - I insufflated roughly half of a weighed dose of 110mg of DPT.
I immediately followed the insufflation with a bulb of nitrous to help allay the burn and the bothersomeness of the drip. I also grabbed a bottle of lemon juice and periodically squirted a bit down my throat to counteract the drip as well. I find this works wonders against the alkaline burn.
I sat down to watch television as I waited for the effects (getting satellite TV and a TiVo has unfortunately increased the quantity of my TV viewing I'm sad to say, but on the other hand, also the quality). In about 30 minutes I felt the warm body buzz of DPT creeping in. Mild flowing visuals also began to develop. Overall it was a +, maybe a ++ in terms of my ability to interact with reality, but it was such a relaxed, almost sleepy trip that it didn't feel like a ++. DPT for me has a very sedative effect, and I often feel myself staring into space and my eyes drifting closed when I take it. More like a trance than like sleeping, but still quite the opposite from the hyper-alertness of phenethylamine-based psychedelics.
Over the next 30-40 minutes I inhaled about 20 bulbs of nitrous oxide. Rather than doing two in rapid succession, as I usually do if I'm trying to launch off into a ++++, I just kept up a steady pace of one bulb every few minutes. This eventually put me into a very relaxed, slightly drunken state of mind, which combined with the DPT meant that I was, well, pretty wasted. Psychedelic effects aside, I was probably as out of it as I would be from 3-4 drinks.
Before long I felt ready to attempt the DMT. As I indicated, my first two tries smoking ~50mg of DMT had been sore disappointments, resulting in a brief trance-like state with some nice visuals, but no more than a ++, which after all the hype surrounding this drug was really a bummer.
I queued up my favorite tripping playlist on iTunes, which I have set to play wirelessly from my laptop through my central stereo system courtesy of Apple's Airport Express. I sat down in my favorite chair, and took several deep breaths to center my spirit.
(+2:15) - I placed 80mg of DMT freebase in a pre-warmed lightbulb vaporizer, applied a butane torch, waited until I saw vapor, and inhaled three hits.
After the third hit, I felt a heaviness rapidly building up in my limbs, in a portentious rush I was familiar with from 5-MeO-DMT. I quickly put out the torch and set it and the hot bulb down on a china plate on the floor, which I had placed there ahead of time to avoid setting fire to the rug. I sat back in the chair and, almost as an afterthought, exhaled a big cloud of smoke. That was the last action I took in this universe.
Before I talk about what happened next, a quick observation. The effects of a high dose of LSD (my favorite drug) are intensely memorable, gorgeous, soul-plumbing, something one wants to repeat again and again, partly because the experience is so beautiful and at the same time so chaotic and hard to piece back together. Like William James's description of the nitrous trip, 'As sobriety returns, the feeling of insight fades, and one is left staring vacantly at a few disjointed words and phrases, as one stares at a cadaverous-looking snowpeak from which sunset glow has just fled, or at a black cinder left by an extinguished brand.'
DMT for me was not like this. Although the intensity of the memory faded somewhat in the days that followed, it seems to me that I can still remember almost every second of the trip, and it was full of intentional meaning, and anything but chaotic.
Back to me in my chair surrounded by smoke. The song playing on the stereo at that moment was a reggae track called 'Free Up Black Man'. I am not a reggae fan and this selection was rather accidental; I had not thought to fast forward to one of my favorite songs in time for the DMT flash, and in hindsight that might have been an improvement. But I almost think it was better to be listening to the haunting, exotic melodies of the islands rather than something artificial, electronic and acid-like.
As I exhaled the smoke, I powerfully noticed the way in which the cone of smoke as it left my mouth lined up in perfect symmetry between the frames of two paintings hanging on the wall. Actually, symmetry was suddenly everywhere. Glancing down I saw the ornate patterns in the oriental rug organizing themselves, like nanobots, into bigger and bigger clusters of units. I closed my eyes for a brief second and behind my lids, this activity continued unabated -- the entire universe was organizing itself, falling into lines and regiments of ordered, colored blocks, all at the command, I sensed, of some master Entity. An all-powerful Him (yes, it was decidedly male. I don't consciously believe in a male divinity, but I can't deny that aspect of this experience).
Inside my head I could sense my synapses being corraled by the drug (inside me it was the drug, not 'Him' -- for the first few seconds I went back and forth between 'drug' and 'Him' as the giver of my experience), forced into lockstep with the higher order of the universe -- no longer free to be a messy bundle of neurons, they were lining up in perfect rows, marching along like soldiers.
Opening my eyes again, I began to feel afraid, as I saw this process intensifying and accelerating far beyond my ability to keep up mentally. The details of my surroundings became increasingly hard to discern -- they kept organizing into each other and forming larger and larger aggregate clusters of shape and color. The world was going from full-color, live action detail to the level of detail from a scene in The Simpsons. I was physically frozen in place, unable to understand what was happening.
Simultaneously: the amber LED display on my black stereo receiver, which sits atop my TV and happened to be in my direct line of sight during this open-eyed trance, became unreadable. Not blurry, no, if anything it became crystal clear, as if scales had fallen from my eyes. Rather, it was now in an alien language, a twisted hieroglyph of triangles and arcane script. This 'text' was flowing and changing and flipping, like the digits on a scoreboard, to reveal new text underneath.
This was all incredibly profound, and I felt intensely honored and privileged to experience it. And yet, it kept getting stronger and stronger. *I* was being erased by this sea of alien organization washing over the universe, and I would soon cease to exist as a separate entity. My first instinct was to fight against this, thrashing my head to the side, but I was commanded by Him to submit, and I could not refuse. He wanted me to keep looking, open myself, and to be part of Him, frozen in time and place for all eternity.
I opened my eyes again and tried to calm myself and tell myself I would not die. Somewhere deep, deep in the back of my mind I knew I had taken a drug and this was not 'real', but this was so far from mattering that it really didn't count as 'knowledge'. But I told myself, 'As long as I can still hear the music, I'm still alive, I'm still in this world, time has not stopped, I am not frozen.' So I grasped desperately at the music like a drowning man with a life preserver.
'Hey mon.... free up.... yeh mon....'
The singer sounded miles away, and was getting further away every second. And then his voice, the music, all the sound in my environment began cutting in and out like a bad cell phone connection, the gaps between sounds getting longer and longer.
'Hey ..on .... ee up .... ey ... uh ... ... eh....'
Total silence. There was no sound, no sensory input of any kind from outside my body except a cartoon sketch of my living room, expunged of all detail, brightly lit by an otherworldly light, around which my eyes looked wildly. The last bits of language in my view, the digits on the stereo receiver, winked out one by one -- that is, the black box itself remained completely lucid and clear, someone had just erased all the text from it, one letter at a time, just as the sound was cutting out one syllable at a time, closing in on me in a narrowing spiral of deafness, muteness, and essentially blindness. Size and shape were still allowed to me to perceive visually, but language and detail were not. I was alone, with Him, in glassy frozen silence, for eternity. All I had to cling to was the defeaning sound of my own frantic breathing, a desperate sucking for life in a vaccuum, like the astronauts in their space suits in 2001: A Space Odyssey.
And then. And then! The singer and his musicians began to break through the silence, singing to me from eons away: 'Free up! Stand up! Carry on! You got to staa-aaaa-aand!' Like grass and rocks emerging from beneath melting snow, the visual details of the room began to well up from behind the pristine surface of His frozen universe.
Hallelujah! The exhiliration of this moment was like nothing I have EVER experienced, on any drug, anywhere. It was to touch God. I had come through His realm and returned to my own, reborn, with more knowledge and wisdom than I had ever though I could contain.
The receiver on top of the TV came to life (not until later did I read about other people's DMT trips that have also contained 'mechanical elves', which this certainly was). It was an emissary from Him, and it tipped its hat to me and grinned, the way wacky cartoon cars grin, with their front grills as mouths. It jumped up and down on its little steel legs in time to the music, baring its teeth in a ferocious smile at me and nodding, 'Yes, Yes, This is real my friend, Oh yes, yes, This is REAL my friend, this is ACTUALLY HAPPENING, you have BEEN THERE, where so few others have been allowed to go, Can you believe it, man? Can you believe it? Ohhhh man. Now CELEBRATE boy!'
I was back. I hugged myself, rocked back and forth, laughing. By now the visuals were truly insane, having completely broken out of their previously frozen hierarchy of organization. I was blinded by swirling masses of purple and yellow and chains of stars. By the clock, several minutes went by, and I must have essentially blacked out because I don't remember much of it. This part of the trip was indistinguishable to me from a hard acid trip -- just spacing out in a sea of visions and thought loops.
At one point I sat up in the chair and a SECOND flash hit me, a kind of aftershock that was a pale echo of the original flash. This one had much more of a noticeable body load, with hypertension, and for a second I was afraid, thinking 'I can't handle another trip right now, I'll have a heart attack', but I took a deep breath and it passed quickly enough.
(+2:30 - 4:00) - I came down.
The rest of the evening was pretty scattered. I wandered around the apartment laughing and saying stupid stuff like 'Oh my god' and 'Damn!' and 'holy shit', and feeling incredibly grateful and excited to have made contact with the Higher Power behind DMT. Although I am not a religious person, I find it impossible not to have some tiny part of me say, 'You met God that night.'
It was pretty much impossible to tell when the DMT trailed off since the DPT was still in effect. At some point, after much back-and-forth, I decided to snort the remaining 50mg of DPT, and I finished off another box of nitrous bulbs, but this was pretty much a waste of material. Nothing else could be in the least memorable in the hours following the DMT voyage.
As an aside, when I thought about it later, I realized the visuals from DMT are extremely reminiscent of Incan and Mayan architecture, ziggurats, etc. The whole concept of reality 'organizing' into a geometrical regularity that ascends upward to God suddenly made a HUGE amount of sense to me after this experience. Of course, the huasca-drinkers who experienced this same effect centuries ago, and attributed it to God, had it replicated in their religious artifacts and architecture.
In terms of side effects, I did have a bit of a headache for a while, like I always get after smoking 5-MeO-DMT, and the DPT gave me some intestinal problems. Other than that this was a clean, clean trip.
In the days afterward, I felt like I had finally experienced what psychedelic trips are really all about. I was unsure how satisfied I would ever be again with 'average' trips. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and if I happen to be so fortunate as to have a second chance to delve this deep into DMT, well, I will certainly not pass it up.
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