H. B. Woodrose & Cannabis
Citation: Nikolai. "Great Move, Katya: An Experience with H. B. Woodrose & Cannabis (exp43478)". Erowid.org. Sep 15, 2007. erowid.org/exp/43478
One day in February 2005, a friend of mine, who we shall call Ivan, told me about Hawaiian Baby Woodrose seeds. He said that they contain lysergic acid amide, a chemical related closely to lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD). Ivan had ordered a package of these seeds from the internet, but he was unable to take them at the time, so he asked if I would try them out for him. Who could turn down a free trip? Not I.
So, I met him at his apartment on a chilly February evening. When I arrived, we put on some techno music that he had mixed, and I took eight seeds (around 10:00 PM). He left me for a little while to meditate and do as I please. Ivan told me that there would likely be some nausea involved, so I smoked a bowl or two of the marijuana I brought along to combat any nausea. After attaining a rather pleasant high from the Mary Jane, I sat on Ivan's couch and waited, and meditated, and waited some more.
After about 20 minutes, I began to feel the physical-inertia effects typical of my former experiences with psilocybic mushrooms. I was feelin' good. I got up to tell Ivan, who was in his makeshift techno mixing studio working his magic with the music. I leaned on the door frame and told him it was working; I described to him with the amazing coherency of a sober person how the room was gently waving. 20 minutes is usually how long it takes for a mushroom trip to hit me, and thinking that it wasn't going to get much better than the smooth, light experience I was having at the moment, I ate two more seeds.
We decided that we needed some nitrous oxide, so we went to the grocery store around the corner to buy a can of whipped cream. I started to trip here - the worst possible place to be tripping on lysergic acid. When we were in the store, there were many people around, and I could feel that some of them knew something was wrong with me, especially the worker packing dairy products I stared intently at while waiting for Ivan to get out of the bathroom. Waiting in line was very awkward, so I went outside and waited for Ivan to buy the whipped cream. It seemed like hours! Getting coffee afterwards wasn't much better because of all the people, but the walk back was very cool, with plenty of tactile and auditory hallucinations, unfortunately along with a bit of paranoia.
But I hadn't reached the top yet; it was when we arrived back at his apartment that I REALLY tripped balls. Ivan turned off all the lights and plugged in his black light. The techno music was playing, and I felt great. I peaked as we sat drawing with a neon-green HiLite pen, about two hours after I took the seeds, about 11:45 PM or midnight, I saw an beautiful blue teardrop-shaped streak momentarily take over most of my field of vision, and I felt as if I were ascending up to heaven. I was feeling great! The black light and glowing green pen were very psychadellic, the blaring techno music seemed to become a part of my existence, and I was comfortable in Ivan's slummy but familiar apartment and his caring presence.
My trip was completely ruined sometime soon after its peak, meaning that I was still way up there trippin' hard. There was a knock on the door, so I got up to get it. I stared intently at the smiling woman at the door (with huge, dilated eyes). At first, I thought she was a neighbor who wanted us to turn down the music, but it was actually Ivan's girlriend, who we'll call Katarina. Katarina smelled of booze and told us that she threw up twice. Great move, Katya.
Simply hearing that had a huge psychosomatic effect on me; I immediately felt sick, rushed to the bathroom, and dry heaved. All sorts of horrible, terrible thoughts came to my head. I convinced myself that I was going to die. I imagined drowning myself in his toilet or shooting myself through the back of my head. I would never see my family or friends again, and my employers were going to find out and fire me (yes, after I was dead). Intense memories flashed before me; my throat felt like it was closing up, and I definitely thought I was going to die.
In my state of intense trippage, I thought it would be a good idea to call my parents to pick me up and rescue me from this horrible trip, so I asked him to call for me. After understanding that this would not be a wise idea, I asked him to call my girlfriend instead. I gave him a number off the top of my head, which really belonged to a store, three times. I also began talking to him in a language of unintelligeable gibberish.
To make the rest of the night's long story short, we finally called my girlfriend, and the drive home to our apartment on the other side of town was a roller coaster ride from hell. After arriving home, I felt that I needed to puke out the bad thoughts, but nothing wanted to come out. I tried to lay down, but it was as if my motor neurons were snapping with electricity. I flailed about the floor for a long time until I wore myself out. But I still couldn't sleep, and couldn't puke. I finally fell asleep around 6:00 or 7:00 AM that morning. For the next three days, I recuperated, trying to deal with the inability to focus my thoughts and generally feeling like crap.
Next time, I'll take a smaller dose.
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