Citation: Dan. "Was It Dust?: An Experience with PCP (?) & Cannabis (exp4852)". Erowid.org. Aug 17, 2001. erowid.org/exp/4852
At around the time I started smoking weed on a regular basis I also starting smoking alone at home. I would always buy weed from the same person and a couple of time it was laced with coke and that was fine because it just made it better. I probably should have realized that maybe this guy wasnít so reliable considering I didnít ask for coke.
I was home alone and had nothing to do. I hated being bored and I knew that if I were high I wouldnít be bored anymore so I decided to smoke a little reefer. I got out my friendís bowl that I borrowed because I didnít know how to roll blunts yet (and blunts were all I smoked). I didnít smoke much before I started to feel different than I normally feel when I was high. Something was definitely different. I just figured it was different weed or it was the coke weed again because something was definitely not right. I hadnít tripped before so I didnít know I was tripping.
I went downstairs and made a sandwich. I took a stool from the dining room and brought it into the kitchen. I pulled it up to the counter and ate there. I couldnít stop thinking about the fact that I was eating at the counter. It seemed so strange. But was it really? I didnít know. I tried to think about something else, anything else, but I couldnít. Why was I eating at the counter? If someone saw me would they think like I was? Would they know how weird it was? Would they think that people that didnít eat at tables were crazy? Was I crazy? Something was clearly wrong.
I went back to my room still thinking about where I ate. I was thinking all about it. Was it really bothering me? I guess I had felt like this for about a hour when it got even harder. I stopped being able to put things together. Sentences didnít make sense because they were more than one word. I understood what was going on and I didnít at the same time. Reality was incomprehensible but I knew what was happening. It was so unexplainable. I realized that I couldnít put two things together so I tried to concentrate and get my thoughts straight. I would say to myself, ďOk, the bed is here and Iím sitting on the bed.Ē I didnít make sense. I could only comprehend myself or the bed alone, not together. I tried a few other examples in my head but nothing worked. Comprehension was SO confusing. I started to get really frustrated. I crawled into a ball on my bed hitting my hands on my head (not hard) trying to think straight. It was so annoying. Then I started to think if this was reality. Did I normally think like this? Was I imagining that something was different? No, something was definitely different.
I stated to think what if I never went back to normal. What if things stayed like this? I was convinced they would. I didnít know what to do. I had to stop thinking about it. I thought Iíd go insane if I didnít stop. I walked to a friendís house. I was supposed to meet him around this time. On the walk there I just thought about what was going on. When I got about a block from his house I started to smile. I was happy for not apparent reason even though I was having a bad time. I told him and my friend who was already there that I think the weed I smoked was laced with something. They could tell by the way I was acting that something was up.
They tried to be stupid and tell me things that werenít true to see my reaction. I knew what was going on. I told them Iím aware of what theyíre doing. They never tripped before so they didnít know what it was like. They just figured I was in an idiotic, gullible state. Reality was completely different but I could tell what was real and what wasnít. I noticed there was something about my friend. I figured it out. He was a superhero. I knew it was ridiculous and untrue, but there seemed to be truth behind it. I couldnít put my finger on it. There was something there that made him a superhero. I knew it wasnít true and I knew it was at the same time. It was so crazy. I told him I knew. I told him I was aware that he was a superhero. I knew it would sound so stupid but I had to tell him. Since I couldnít put my finger on what it was that made him a superhero I asked him what his power was. There had to be some truth behind this ridiculousness.
Since he wasnít tripping I really couldnít have a conversation with him. He starting telling me obvious lies again. I told him I knew when he was lying and telling the truth but it didnít phase him. I started to get pissed off. It was really annoying trying to talk with them. They just didnít get it.
We started to walk to the movie theatre to meet people and do something. I think I fell a few times on the way there, I really donít remember. When we got there I went to talk to my other friend who worked at the concession stand. He was pissing me off too. He reached at me and I fell on my ass. It was kind of funny. When I got up he reached at my head again and I thought he was trying to pull my hair out so I started to swing at him. He was being such an asshole. I wanted to hit him. I clearly made a scene so I had to leave. We went into town and the craziness eventually diminished. What an insane experience. It was so frustrating I hated it. There was nothing fun about it. Iím pretty sure it was PCP. Iíve tripped on other drugs since then and enjoyed it but this first time sucked. I wouldnít do it again because there was nothing good about it. Nothing at all.
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