Citation: Ronin. "New Respect for a Drug: An Experience with LSD (exp68795)". Erowid.org. Jan 4, 2013. erowid.org/exp/68795
I was back from college in my hometown for Christmas. It started off like a normal day. I woke up around 1 or 2 pm, laid on the couch with some food and vegged-out. Around 4 o’clock that night a good friend of mine, M, called me and said that he was on his way back into town at the moment and asked if I wanted to hang out with an old high school buddy that went to school downtown and have a few brewskis and a bowl or two. Elated to have something to do in this boring town, I agreed and hurried to meet him ignoring my dad in the den as he yelled at me not to stay out to late. I went by the liquor store with a fake ID and picked up a case of beer, cigarettes, and a bottle of rum. We drove downtown to C’s apartment and began to drink with C, B (a high school friend who was squatting in C’s room) and J, C’s roommate who we knew fairly well.
About 6 o’clock, C and J disappeared and came back an hour later with 22 hits of blotter and two more people I had never met before. At first sight they looked incredibly sketchy (I quickly learned that these were some of the coolest and funniest people I will ever meet) but I decided not to say anything until I met them.
I am a strong believer that an acid trip can go however you want it to, it’s all in your head. Because of that, I find spontaneity when taking acid improves the overall trip. Rather than someone planning it for a long time, getting really excited and then not having a great trip which is really, really annoying. And since I had had absolutely no intention to take a dose that night, I felt it was a great time to take some.
We stood in a silent circle around the acid, frozen in silent awe at our awesome score. 22 hits for $160. We divided them evenly between the 8 people, except for B who took four (no one wants to be around B on 4 hits of acid).
C and J didn’t have an TV in their apartment so to pass the time we turned some music on, cut the lights, plugged in a multi-colored disco ball, and played drinking games and smoked weed to pass the time during that Acid Hour until we came up. After an hour and 15 minutes we started to get pissed that it wasn’t working. We certainly felt it, but there were no visuals. Usually, I try to forget about the acid and let it come on by itself. But this unwatched pot was not boiling. I decided to get up and walk around, get the blood flowing. I knew it probably wouldn’t do anything but I didn’t care.
Standing up, I walked throughout the apartment, stopping randomly to stare at something and try to make it move. Mostly blank stretches of walls or a cool looking pattern on the carpet. I rounded the hall corner and walked into C’s bedroom. I glanced around for something trippy to look at but found nothing. And then I saw it. It wasn’t anything special in fact. I had to do a double take because it was so mundane of an object. Stuck to C’s wall was one of the most well-known posters today. It was a black and white portrait of Jim Belushi from Animal House with the signature COLLEGE shirt on. But as I looked at the poster, a very small fuzzy, grayish-blackish dot appeared in the center of his face. I stared at it a little bit longer, wondering what this thing was about to do next.
The spot began to grow so that it covered his entire face. I remained there, 2 feet from the wall, staring at this perfectly normal poster with the most confused look on my face. I stared at if for a few more seconds when M walked in, going to use C’s bathroom. He stopped halfway across the dim room, the only light coming through the hallway door. “What the fuck are you doing in here in the dark?” “Wondering why Jim’s face is gone and been replaced by a black hole.” I replied nonchalantly, still staring the into the darkness over the actor’s face. M burst out laughing, but not a normal laugh, this one was louder and more prolonged than usual. I concluded that M had started tripping too. “You trippin?” “I'm getting there. I saw some stuff move a minute ago but I was going to look in the mirror. But now I really want to see this black hole.” “Ha ha, it’s weird. I know his face is there, but I can't see it at all.” “Well what is there?” “Nothing, that is what is so cool. His face is made of nothing, if nothing was a substance. Imagine a static screen on a TV, but frozen still and melting slightly.” M looked at me an laughed again, “Dude, if I wasn’t on three, that would have been the most absurd thing I have ever heard, but I think I know what you are talking about.”
We stood up and walked into the incredibly bright bathroom. We stood next to each other, staring into what seemed like a carnival mirror that I could bend with my mind. After making the mirror bend so much I felt like throwing up, and gasping for air between laughter, I dragged my self, now fully tripping, coming up strong and fast, from the bathroom and “crawled” into the den flat on my stomach, because I though that if I stood up, booby traps hidden in the wall would pop out and attack me.
The rest of the night consisted of a blur of visuals from the disco ball and Christmas ornaments hung by invisible fishing wire from the ceiling with moments of clarity as we ventured outside the apartment into the half indoor/half outdoor hallways that made up the apartment building. We got lost several times in the labyrinthine hallways that seemed to stretch forever in both directions. Every once in a while, one of us would get left behind, sitting in a corner staring at something that no one else could see, only to round a corner with a resounding scream as they walked directly into the rest of the group. Around 1am, J had an idea to go to the top of the parking deck that was attached to the building and look at the sky scrapers of downtown Birmingham and look at the stars and get some fresh air. We rode the elevator to the sixth floor, and as we stepped out, it was like walking into an arena. The ceiling and walls melted away to reveal nothing but black sky above with hundreds of tiny stars. The always lit lights on the city’s skyscrapers illuminated patterns on their sides. It didn’t take me long to realize that I could control the height of each of the skyscrapers, and make them move up and down in rhythm. From somewhere, “Timezones” by Widespread Panic floated into my head as the skyscrapers started to dance. They shot up and down going from 2 stories to 150 instantaneously, rising and falling to the beat of the music.
I was told later that I stood on the top of that parking deck in 25 degree weather and bad winds, staring out at the city long after the others had left, from 1:00 til around 2:45 when someone came up to get me. I think when on the trip from the roof back to the room was when I began to stop having intense visuals. Really the only visuals I had for the rest of the night were still there, but not nearly as pronounced. But as the visuals began to stop, a whole different wave washed over me. I regained a sense of my self and started the hardest mental trip I have ever had.
The wee hours of the morning from when I came back to the room till around 6:30 am consisted of 7 people, 2 of who I had only met 15 minutes before eating their dose, crammed into a tiny bedroom with no chairs and the lights out. We sat and smoked, and talked about acid and smoked and talked about how life was like a movie, just not about us, and smoked...you get the idea.
At about 5:00 we decided to go back to the roof one more time to watch the sunrise. I honestly have never witnessed a more incredibly, breathtaking beautiful sight as the sun coming up over Red Mountain and shining down on the buildings below us and the skyscrapers in the distance. As the sun rose, shooting streaks of orange, red, and dark purple across the sky, it shone through a huge long fluffy cloud, flushing it with color. Everyone of us, all seven, saw a colored dragon head of the exact same description a the same time form in the clouds and cruise across the sky.
Around 6:30am, J had the great idea to get everyone thinking about food. Now, normally, I’m not hungry when I am on acid, but he made Micky-D’s biscuits sound so good. So at about 7:15, still tripping incredibly hard, myself, J, and J’s friend and his girlfriend tried to prepare our selves mentally for what we were about to do. The biscuits were a 3 block walk, through 10 crosswalks round trip, and an entire downtown industrial section of the city getting up to go to work. We opened the gate and walked out side into the morning sunlight, walked about 8 steps to the first crosswalk, looked at the morning commuters that were whizzing by, starting their day and going through their day to day problems and realized that there was a real world out here and were were tripping way to hard to do this right now. We did it any way. We walked in the freezing cold and with giant pupils the three blocks to the restaurant. Upon arrival, we realized that we couldn’t go in and risk someone seeing us do something crazy. So we sat, diagonally across the street from a police department, cops driving by about once ever 45 seconds, in the freezing cold and tried to suppress our psychedelic delusions as we ate steaming butter biscuits.
We made the trip back to the apartment without incident, but that...
WAS WHEN DISASTER STRUCK!
Sitting in J’s den at about 8:00, my cell phone rings. At first I dismiss my ringtone to the acid, but it rang again and this time my friends asked my if it was mine. I looked at the caller on the front of the phone. “Mom” it read. It took about 20 seconds for me to remember what went wrong. I remembered something vague, a voice, telling me something, OH NO my dad telling me not to stay out late, and I had not come home. Maybe not with you, but I have a very strict set of parents, if they had found out what I was doing, I could kiss my next semester at college good bye. I fell into a bad trip instantly. I couldn’t figure out how I was going to get out of it and I panicked, the acid just magnified it. The walls began to close, I got short of breath, and a huge well of anger rose up. I stormed out of the apartment and screamed and hurled my phone against the ground, shattering it. My friends dragged my inside and calmed me down. Soon, with a great help from the acid, I accepted my fate and decide to not let it get me down for now. But then I began to think of the situation from an objective point of view to try and search for an answer. Lo and behold, I found one. I pieced together a story that would satisfy my parents questions and any snooping with my friends parents they might do and enjoyed the rest of the trip, my parents took the story, and my only punishment was that I was not allowed to go to sleep that day, and spent it doing errands and yard work for my parents.
But looking back on it, this experience made me respect acid, how fun and fickle it is, but also how it lets me look at things from an entire different perspective.
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