Citation: Chronique. "Intensely Stoned: An Experience with PCP & Cannabis (exp72367)". Erowid.org. Nov 1, 2008. erowid.org/exp/72367
[Erowid Note: The substance described appears to be a plant material soaked in PCP and/or possibly formaldehyde (see /chemicals/pcp/pcp_info6.shtml for more information on this trend). The plant material may be an inactive herb or may be cannabis.]
Hello all. First of all, I'd like to mention I'm a 6'5 really skinny dude. I consider myself to be mildly experienced with drugs, having been a daily user of weed, a frequent user of coke, occasionally heroin, acid twice, and a variety of pills ranging from Klonopins and Xanax to Somas, Oxys, Percs, and all that other good stuff. I've used pcp once before, however, I didn't really smoke it right and felt very mild effects.
Well, my PCP experience all changed one day when my friend B, and I were extremely broke, sitting in his room with nothing to do. We had a single blunt and a single dime bag of chronic that we were going to smoke when his older sister called him. As he spoke to her on the phone he looked over at me and asked if I wanted to trade our last bag of weed for a jar of wet. I was reluctant at first but then remembered that our friend S was coming over shortly with more chronic, and I figured there aren't many opportunities to try a new drug when your flat broke, so I said yes.
20 minutes later, his sister came through and took our weed in exchange for a tiny little glass jar filled with black leafy material inside. B opened the jar, tipped it upside down, and started tapping it against his computer desk to knock the wet onto the desk. He let me smell the jar which smelled like a very harsh chemical, similar to gasoline on the nose. Not something I'd normally smoke if I found it on the ground. I carefully watched as B took the sticky black material and laid it down in a line on the blunt wrap just as one would do with chronic. He then rolled it up just as one would do with chronic, and the end result was an unusually skinny blunt of wet. B sparked it up and I watched as he smoked it, just like an original blunt, he then handed it to me.
I took the first hit, and it tasted kind of like sharpie marker. I'm not too sure how to describe the taste. It was very chemical and, I would actually say if death had a taste, that would be it, and many people seem to agree with me on that. I took 4 hits and felt nothing. Took 4 more hits and I started to feel slightly light headed. Took 4 more hits and I started hearing a noise, kind of like a small toy propeller going off in my head. My vision also began to get distorted. After 4 more hits, I began to feel extremely 'fucked up', I was having difficulty turning my head, and my arms seemed to be harder to move. Everything started to slow down, especially how quickly I was capable of moving my limbs. When the blunt got passed back to me at this point, I was completely distorted, and could barely move. I had a very hard time grabbing the now tiny blunt roach. I took 2 more hits and I was done, I handed it back to B who took 2 more hits and put it out.
B put on some music to listen to and then proceeded to stare at his computer. I was looking at the window which was morphing a little bit. I wanted to get up to look outside to see if S arrived, but I was stuck and couldn't get out of my seat. I realized me and B were just sitting in his room in absolute silence, so I said 'Yo, B', and stopped talking. He responded with 'What's good?', then we went back to sitting in silence while the effects continued to elevate. I then decided I wanted a cigarette, but I wasn't sure if reaching into my pocket and grabbing the pack was worth it. I tried but couldn't reach my arm all the way to my pocket, so I gave up, as I was stuck. I then decided to focus on the music B was playing, which I was completely unaware of before I consciously decided to pay attention. It didn't sound like anything special, in fact, the more I focused on the music, the quieter it got. I could barely hear the music over the spinning propeller in my head. I then moved my head to look out the window, which morphed the slightest bit, but not much.
It started getting dark outside and I focused on the inside of the room for a few minutes, then went into my own semi conscious waki world. I started wondering if I was gonna die. I started thinking about death. It would kinda suck if I died, especially for B, and I really didn't feel like dying, but I didn't really care at the same time. I started thinking that I want this all to be over. I couldn't move and I was just sitting in my chair staring either straight ahead or at the floor. The constant question about the effects of my death were flowing through my head. After about 2 hours of sitting and experiencing nothingness, B got up from his computer chair and lye down on his bed. I stared at the empty computer chair, which I knew was a lot more comfortable than the one I was sitting in, and started thinking about moving to it. I then wobbled like a duck (I could hardly walk) to the chair and sat down in it.
I then sat down looking at the computer desk, when I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. I told B I needed to throw up and waddled to his bathroom, it was the hardest walk I'd ever experienced. Walking was like being extremely drunk, except your legs were partially paralyzed. I made it to the toilet and proceeded to throw up red. Not sure what I ate but it wasn't blood. When I was done throwing up, I thought people were yelling at B outside the bathroom, so I flushed the toilet and just stayed in the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. I just had a really blank stare and no expression on my face, so I decided to lay down on the bathroom floor. I must have been lying on the floor for about 5 minutes when I decided to get up and go back to B's room. I seemed to be able to walk a little better now, but not much. I managed to sit down in the computer chair and stare at the desk again. I just thought about how I wanted this feeling to be over. Then B's sister walked into the room and my whole perception of the drug changed.
I heard B and his sister talking, when I heard the words 'Yeah, he's really fucked up'. I then spun slowly around in my chair and stared at B's sister. She just looked back at me and laughed. I couldn't think of anything to say and I didn't know where else to look, so I just stared at his sister without emotion, thats when I realized I don't give a fuck. I decided that the feeling of not caring about a single thing was a great one, and I spun around in my chair again and stared at the computer screen. I didn't know what to do, I didn't wanna move, and I had no thought and I loved it.
Eventually, S came through with chronic and I started to come down to where I was able to move a little better. The 3 of us smoked a blunt, when I left with S. At this point, I just felt like I was extremely high and drunk at the same time, and I was very careful not to trip or stumble when walking past B's mom. In S's car, the effects of the wet had rapidly worn off, and I was just high by the time we were done making runs and when I arrived home.
Overall, I really enjoyed my experience with wet. While its not very insightful of life changing like acid, it's a fun drug to get fucked up on and forget my worries. Wet is among one of my favorite drugs.
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