Citation: Justin. "A Normal College Weekday: An Experience with LSD (exp67651)". Erowid.org. Nov 18, 2018. erowid.org/exp/67651
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For a time from mid-summer 2007 to September of that year I went on an acid binge where I would trip every weekend on at least two hits. This was without a doubt a life changing experience; I felt that I learned more about myself and my niche in the social network I had been creating the past 20 years. I had tripped on acid 2 times before the summer binge and upwards of 25 times on mushrooms prior dating back to 11th grade. So I guess you could say that my classroom acid experience was the culminating event/day of my very memorable summer binge.
The night before, a Tuesday evening, a friend was able to find some acid and sell it to me. Promptly thereafter I proclaimed that I planned to eat it the next morning about half an hour before my American Literature class at 11 a.m. I would mainly attribute this impromptu reaction to my friendís ability to sell me acid very late into the night before the class to my lack of acid the previous 2 weeks.
Anyway, I wake up at 10:30 a.m. the day of this class, have sudden apprehensions, but take the hit almost instinctively soon thereafter. I dressed, smoked probably 2-3 hits out of my bong, and got all my stuff ready for college feeling great that Iím about to accomplish a goal I had set for myself roughly 2 years earlier. I did not eat breakfast. During the walk to class I felt no effects of the dose. However, upon arriving at the lecture hall and seating myself (in the back of course) I began to feel the stomach butterflies that usually accompany the rise of any trip. Also during this period, brush stroke-like bands of pinkish-red began to form around some things like the screen the projector projects on. Also, my depth perception went out of wack and concentration lessened, which I had anticipated. Also, I was having a hard time controlling laughter. I felt crazy because I knew that no one in the class knew I was tripping at the time. It really was a great feeling though; it was like I had a huge super secret all to myself. I believe this secret is what led to my feeling of extreme giddiness. Anyway, I trip very hard the entire class; time seems to drag on for a while as I attempt to concentrate, but fail in doing so. Class lets out at 11:50 a.m.
Upon leaving I feel quite elated knowing that I have a whole day (for usually when I trip, as long as I get up once, I feel the drug until I fall asleep; either a gift or a curse, I assume the former) to trip on acid. I ponder what to do, and maybe due to the literature based topics I just listened to for the past 50 minutes, I decide to go home and write poetry; something I hadnít done for many months and had been meaning to get back to doing on a regular basis. The walk home, which is roughly .75 miles, seems half as long as normal for I am lost in my own thoughts, cool visuals, and overall sounds of College Park, Maryland.
So I get home, whip out my notebook and pen and begin to write my, as of now, favorite poem which I believe holds the most truth:
Our Lives Depend On
circles in the sky with lined paths of
billion-year-old light; doth display
constancies, here, on this sphere, lay a knife
used to cut, the fruit of knowledge and learning
with seeping clear juices to drop into eyes
After these lines, which my mind seemed to vomit onto the paper, I began to laugh out loud. Tears came to my eyes and I was completely overcome with joy and again I reminded myself that I had an entire day to trip and have fun; after my next class at 2 p.m. of course. Time flies between classes and the poem; I do not particularly remember, but I estimate that I ingested about 5-7 bong hits during this time.
My next class is with one of my good friends; he had no idea I was on acid, but I showed him the poem I had written earlier; he couldnít read my handwriting. Class started and, maybe because I was in the front row this time, I started to feel like I was going to be called on and put on the spot in front of everybody. I couldnít shake the feeling, especially since I had not read the required material for the day. This developed into a sort of paranoia, which I believe I was only able to pull myself out of because I am very experienced with psychedelics. At times I felt like running out of the classroom; I was truly scared. Anyway, I was better able to comprehend what was going on during the duration of class, but I could not write the notes as well in my notebook; I would later use them to study and I found them to be comparatively, to the other class days, sub-par. Class ends at 3:15 p.m. and not a moment too soon for I was tired and just wanted to chill for the remainder of my trip. Which I did, and ended up having a tremendous afternoon and evening.
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