Citation: Krullor. "Lack of Concept: An Experience with LSD (exp72025)". Erowid.org. Oct 21, 2012. erowid.org/exp/72025
||(pill / tablet)
I have never been an advocate of using powerful hallucinogenic drugs, at least I have never actively suggested it to people. I have, on the other hand, a deep seated belief that if you feel drawn towards doing it and you feel good about it, go for it.
This report follows my second experience and is recounted almost minute for minute taken from dictaphone recordings I made of the night. The recordings spanned a massive seven hours of total record time, most of which filled with speech and description, some of which...well lets just say some of it makes little to no sense at all or is just noise.
RECORDING 1 - 21:28
'It is approximately.....some time at night....half nine, about half nine, and I have just placed two tabs of tasteless printed paper under my tongue, we are all in agreement that this is LSD. No effects yet as I am sure you understand. I am with my two good friends from work who have opted to observe and not partake (they shall be referred to as richmond and charles for the purposes of this report) and the environment is a very comfortable new house with which I am very impressed...*cheers from richmond and carl are heard, though their voices are inaudible*. I shall be documenting the experience in full.
RECORDINGS 2-4 21:55-22:35
21:55'Mild shuddering has become apparent though its not discomforting or anything, its just a little difficult to relax in this chair. I am pretty thirsty, I wonder if thats because I am thirsty or if its the drugs?'
22:15'I am rather comfortable now, feel very very warm...Charles, is it hot in here or is that me? *charles replies that it is just me*, i suppose it is just me, I'm not hot anyway, just warm'
22:35'I haven't said anything for like, ages. I thought it was wise to tell you, even though you probably know, that Charles's room is rather big, I can see every corner from where I am sitting, even ones behind my head. If I try hard enough I can drag them around...*charles and richmond laugh*, they think its funny...blagging a**eholes right there man'
At this point in the evening I was experiencing a great warmth coming from the centre of my body, combined with a deep stillness. If I sat too long my feelings and emotions seemed to mesh with whatever I was touching. I describe this in recording 5.
RECORDING 5 23:10
'It's just totally...I can't communicate I don't know how to communicate. GODDAMN! I wish I could just, communicate! What is it with language man?! I've totally become entwined with this box, you can't have it back, my fingers have sunk into it its like, its like, my soul and the boxes soul have become a supersoul'
RECORDING 6 23:50
'I don't even know what they're both talking about...*you can barely hear richmond trying to explain his question, he is asking me who I think should be president. For lack of a better answer I say Hunter S Thompson, unable to fathom that he is dead*. At this point the lack of concept has taken full hold, I can no longer form ideas in my head or understand simple statements without great effort. The room has descended into a colourful dream world not unlike the artwork of yellow submarine. Walls glazed with oranges and purples, objects shuddering on their spots and morphing into sea creatures and goblins, many of which seem to lack any real form but make perfect sense to me. It may be worth noting that several objects in the room distorted into what I now consider to be meaningless shapes, but at the time they conveyed great meaning to me, and were recognised for their ideals and not their image.
RECORDING 7 00:04
'They put on this song, this blagging song, it's giving me instructions...*the song is giving instructions on surviving a zombie invasion, I became convinced that the house was surrounded by zombies. I saw them out of the window, black hulking masses crawling around buildings. I was not alarmed, merely interested and focussed on the instructions I was being given* I HAVE to follow them...they're all over..I dont know if I should go outside...I can't even have an idea! you know you're messed up when you can no longer form an idea'
RECORDING 8 00:47
'Theres just no point, I cant even form a sentence, I cant speak to this blagging machine....Charles you have a f**kin stripey assed living room man'. I had become obsessed with the walls of the living room, they were striped with colours I had never seen before, colours I doubt I could describe or recreate now. For the purposes of this report it is worth mentioning his walls are painted grey with no stripes.
The recordings beyond this point become rather abstract and are not worth transcribing. I experienced strange visuals involving guitar strings and shuddering of objects. Richmond would close his eyes and shake his head violently from side to side at the end of each sentence, charles become a jesus-like deity in which a white halo appeared behind his head as he spoke. I ascribe this halo to the fact that he has long hair and a beard. I placed my face on their front door to check for zombies, when I experienced the most immersive and overwhelming visual I could have possible imagined.
The door split open around my head and I fell through. Suddenly I found myself flying in an orange and purple mist, surrounded by dizzyingly high black towers. I looked down to the ground some thirty feet away and observed thousands of tiny glowing orbs that were whizzing frantically between the buildings, their movements affected by noises I could hear from charles's living room. Richmonds voice strongly affected the ambient light.
I was shocked, to such a degree I forced myself out of the door and back into their living room.
It was time to ascend to my room for the night, which was a converted loft room with a confusing velux window which opened upward. The flight of stairs panicked me, I felt a sudden urge to have all lights on but charles would not allow it. We ascended in the dark, the stairs conspired against me as my vision was now entirely black. Around me, only wood and carpet, deeply menacing emotions emerged from every surface I touched as they curled and contorted as if to engulf my physical form and eventually control my mind. I got over this fear and managed to reason past the nightmare of this short flight of stairs, we continued to climb until the light of the bathroom freed me.
The final three or four hours of my trip were spent listening to Jefferson Airplane. The music took on a whole new level inside my head, new meanings were discovered and fantastic visuals emerged from every note. Sound and music were being translated into language which only I could understand, and whenever I opened my eyes, the tune would distort the room around me to match its movement.
A perfect experience.
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