Citation: Anoldguy. "Pink T & Pop Rocks: An Experience with PCP & Cannabis (exp54907)". Erowid.org. Dec 8, 2008. erowid.org/exp/54907
This is the strangest tale. I should let the reader know that I was an inveterate pot-head at the time, and was experienced with several hallucinogens as well as the entire dictionary of opiates and nearly anything you can name save for the newer designer drugs. I was not taking any other prescription or non-presciption drugs or herbs, and was in excellent physical condition. Mindset was alert and happy.
So begins the tale.
An acquaintance, R, asks if I would like to get high before first bell. I reply that I certainly would, and R, M and I go find a quiet place to light up. R was a dealer in most everything psychoactive, but lately he was selling phencyclidine. He had large quantities, and was erroneously referring to it as ‘pink T.’ It had no THC in it whatever as subsequent lab tests bore out. Sometime later he turned himself in at a psychiatric hospital, the victim of his own excessive use of his ersatz THC. Hence we know that he was selling PCP, pure and simple.
So the three of us smoke a very small joint of what tasted like bottom of the barrel homegrown. It was very green, and very harsh. Upon finishing the joint, I dashed to my first class. As I ascended the steps in front of the university, I felt much winded, and very, very odd. I didn’t have a moment to reflect on these feelings, as I was running late. Upon entering the classroom I felt as if I had opened the door into another universe. Nothing was familiar. My classmates looked roughly the same, but I had difficulty remembering their names. I asked a classmate, Richard, if I looked stoned. His reply was something to the effect of if Tom (the professor) sees you like that, he’ll go nuts. Normally I would laugh this off, but in my deteriorating state of mind, I became quite paranoid.
I was spiraling out into an unknown place. I thought that this can’t be the effect of one measly joint. I nervously looked at the classroom clock not 4 meters from where I was sitting. The clock appeared to be underwater. It also appeared to be inside my mind. I found this very unnerving. I started to have delusions that seemed to be triggered by my most altered depth of field. I felt that the universe and all it contained was the size of a drop of water. The clock appeared to have stopped. I was really far out in some other place. We had finished the joint no more than five minutes ago.
As the distance between the clock and me was no longer, I too felt as if I was underwater. Hadn’t things always been this way? Of course not. But what had things been before this? I then very vaguely remembered smoking the joint. I was under the influence of some form of drug. But which one? Then I was again lost. I lapsed into a quasi-psychedelic reverie. This time blown into a million shards of non-existence. I was so detached that the room and my clock seemed to be underwater, all that there ever was, a water droplet, inset into my mind, and as expansive as one could imagine, all at once. Although like any powerful experience, you cannot convey it fully to another, but if you imagine that everything that ever was could be seen through a fish-eye lens, that was roughly half-way imbedded in your head, that’s a reasonable approximation of what I both saw and felt.
I once again came back to question how things got to be this way. This gave me a bit of grounding for the moment. Although still very confused. Then the most astonishing thing happened. The professor, for reasons unknown to me to this day, passed around “Pop Rocks” candy. I took an amount of the unknown substance, and placed them with my very alien looking hand, into my mouth. Not knowing what to expect, I freaked as the Pop Rocks started bursting inside my mouth. This set off a deafening roar inside my mind. Anyone that has tried this candy straight knows it’s a kind of a rush. Not knowing what was going on, I was terrified. I fled the classroom, and went outside.
I was barely able to focus. When I was able to focus, wherever my gaze landed, became as the clock. A truly strange experience indeed. The disconnect from reality was extremely powerful, and felt very real. I tried to measure my pulse rate – not really even knowing what that was – and all movements seemed to slow down. Time was very dilated. In my state, time ceased to have meaning. Being outside did wonders for my paranoia. I was no longer fearful of being found out about in my current peculiar state. As my thoughts wandered, I had archetypal psychedelic negative thoughts.
“What if I never come out of this state?”
“What will people think of me?”
Oddly, even as I contemplated what people might think of me, a soul lost to the abyss of some unknowable weirdness, it did not occur to me that I was thinking of consensus reality. I slowly began to reintegrate. The bubble that was all began to fade. I asked a fellow student what time it was. 10:30(AM) came the reply. I had been fully under the drug’s spell for over two hours. I was still far away, but coming down. I tried to measure my come down by known guideposts. This high was different, and all my usual counters failed.
Then, I was down. I felt fine, and not a bit worse for wear. I now had to find R to ask him with what the hell he had dosed me. I found him a few hours later. I asked him in the sternest way possible. His reply was to laugh. Later M told me that R had indeed saturated some junk pot with PCP. Of course I then asked M if he had any weird effects from the joint that we had smoked earlier that day. He replied that he didn’t smoke any of it. He had learned from prior experience not to trust R. I facetiously thanked him for the warning, and he instantly knew what I meant. I told R that bad things would happen to him if he ever pulled a stunt like that again. He denied having done anything, and then promised that he would not.
I never spoke to R after that. He dropped out of university, and ended up - as I related earlier - in a psych ward. So, while I cannot say with absolute certainty that this was a PCP experience, I am quite sure that it was.
Summation: I would not say that this mind-warping experience gave me any insights, and wasn't even pleasant. Had I known what was going on, things very well could have been far different.
Note: This is a revised journal entry I made from 1992.
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