Citation: Aoede Musing. "An Experience of Double Proportions: An Experience with 2C-E (exp73462)". Erowid.org. Sep 25, 2008. erowid.org/exp/73462
||(pill / tablet)
It is difficult to describe a drug experience like this one in words. So much of what happened was quite literally indescribable; feelings with no words, pictures and emotions with no real description available in any language. A friend recently used the metaphor of wishing he could download his experiences into my head so I could just understand it all, rather than having to simply (and inadequately) only “know” it in a narrative capacity. This would be the ideal way to describe the night I took 2 CE, but for the sake of preserving the memory, I will attempt to use words, however inadequate to share the encounter with this incredible chemical.
The research D and I did on other’s experiences with this drug was not as thorough as we would have liked. Many more accounts exist of 2 CB trips. They describe the experience as a spiritually focused melding of euphoric E-like feelings and LSD-like visuals and abstract thinking. Inexperienced in LSD trips as I am, I can say that, yes, there was a similar euphoric feeling like MDMA, however, not nearly as positive or light-hearted; more like a forced state of euphoria. And, as the remainder of this narrative will reveal, the spiritual aspects certainly overpowered the euphoric aspects. Perhaps this is the difference between the B and E elements?
About 45 minutes after the first pill, maybe 15-20 minutes after the second pill, I noticed that the couch was “breathing.” The wrinkles in the leather were writhing, growing and shrinking as if alive: inhaling and exhaling. The entire couch was itself imploding and exploding as if being sucked partially into a vortex before being pushed out again to normal shape and size. The artwork above the couch was also beginning to move: different parts of it would spin, swirl, or wriggle. The art is a black and white symmetrical semi-pattern oriented piece and the visuals I was having were also symmetrical, but highlighted the slight imperfections in the symmetry. I was highly aware of the parts of the piece that were slightly different from each other and they took on great significance.
The next clear memory I have is of lying on the couch as Kenny walked in flooding the whole room with the most intense purple light I had ever seen. He is usually purple to me, but I had a heightened sense of his color. D had been getting brighter and his colors had begun to change since I first noticed the couch, but I had not focused on them until that point and I realized that he was also purple but mainly his green core was deeper, brighter and sort of pulsing, which I had never seen happen before. At some point I remember thinking how crowded the room was, and how everyone (that I had noticed) was talking very softly to Kenny, focusing on him and enjoying his light. I told D that there were people in the room and both he and K laughed and said “cool.” I understood somehow that they were “Kenny’s people” and when I explained that to Kenny, I think he asked what they were doing. I told him “They love you.” I don’t know how or why I said that; what they were actually “doing” was murmuring and sort of moving back and forth, but when asked I knew to say “They love you.” Anything else felt like an incomplete statement.
D asked if he had any people, and I had not noticed until that moment the woman over his shoulder. I do not know how I knew She was female because I can’t say that I actually physically saw a body or face. Even Kenny’s people I could not see with my physical eyes; it was more like I just knew they were there almost visible in my physical peripheral vision, but plain as day in my “other sight.” D’s “woman” was much the same except She did not have any colors to speak of—just a location and an emotion; a raw almost primitive, very uncomplicated emotion: She was sad. My heart was instantly heavy and I felt as though I could cry the moment D’s question brought Her into focus for me.
Focusing on Her made Her aware of me suddenly; it actually made all the “people” in the room aware of me more. I noticed that Kenny’s people were a bit more agitated and seemed to draw close around him, while She remained firmly rooted with D but interested in me. I recall touching Her face, wanting to help Her hurting stop, and this action was formed in response to some sort of question. I think it was something like giving Her permission to join me, as I had offered my open help, because upon touching Her “face” I was flooded with Her sadness and repulsed by the sensation of fullness and dissonance that I felt traveling from the pit of my stomach, or even lower; more like my uterus or something slightly behind it, outward in one huge wave. I don’t think She quite took control of me that time; but I am sure She was aware of the new sensations of a physical body that She was sharing with me.
I lost track of time at some point. I recall getting naked and sexual play. I was highly interested in the texture of skin, the patterns of hair growth, the taste and smell of him. I remember lying on D’s bed while he licked my skin all over in places that are often neglected or ignored, like down my side across my ribs, my arms, especially on my shoulder and upper arm: he spent so much time and energy there that I found myself losing track of the rest of my body.
It was this sensation that made me more aware of K’s people again. Walls were not actually an issue with them so even though we were in another room they remained near. One of them, a man—again I haven’t a clue how I knew He was a “he” but I did—He was loving me with his light and somehow enhancing the pleasure D was giving me by this. He seemed to ask me to “come” meaning somewhere else and I did. I didn’t realize that I would actually “be” elsewhere, and thereby deserting D in the middle of our lovemaking, I was just so soft and suggestible that I would have done anything that was asked or told.
He took me somewhere that I can only describe as “green” with water. I had a sense that I had been there before. My lucid sober mind is now trying to convince me it was the pond in the pasture next door to my childhood farm where I spent so many peaceful hours, but I know it was not, because during the actual trip I ran all the places I knew it resembled through my head and that pond upon consideration was discarded. While I was there I was in essence resting. I was awake there but my body was experiencing what felt like sleep.
The next thing I knew, D was smiling at me and talking about how much I came. I could tell in my body that I had had a physical orgasm, but I could not remember it or recall getting there. And I realized that “He” was still with me very connected to both D and me and He was laughing with joy. By focusing on him I realized he had just experienced my orgasm for me and it seemed as though he was laughing because D could not tell the difference between us, and perhaps because He was euphoric with the sensation of sexual pleasure. His laughter I found was coming out of my mouth and I was able to easily maneuver back and forth between his laugh in my throat and my voice telling D what I was laughing about. D was a bit upset that I didn’t remember the orgasm and that he had gone down on a man so to speak, but I was euphoric with “His” pleasure, and perhaps a bit insensitive to D’s confusion.
After some love play with D as the focus, I remember D telling me to get dressed so that we could go out into the living room. I vaguely recall dressing myself, despite his offer to help. I have no memory of Her presence during the time I was in and out with “Him” but at some point I knew Her emotions again and I don’t recall what forced my attention away from Her, but I remember trying to focus on the map, on D and K, on the couches, on anything but the glaring “person” in my personal space, for by this time She did not move with D’s movements, She stayed near me. I was not afraid, just slightly annoyed with Her persistent negative feelings and I forcibly filled my own thoughts with the pleasurable things I was experiencing to keep myself away from Her feelings.
I remember very little about the first few times She came in and I went out. I don’t remember D’s reaction to Her except one incident of him telling me I was channeling someone. My whole being rejected this idea because of the current connotation I hold of that term. It felt inherently wrong and I shook my head at him. I recall a combined rush of positive energy, and a lifting sensation mingled with a feeling of strength and empowerment at some point upon every “return.” This made the return a pleasure and so I welcomed the departures at first, knowing that the return trip would bring another wave of the good stuff.
On one trip, however I found that when I was ready to come back for the good stuff, I could not. I was suddenly terribly aware of the “place” I was in: a dark empty void with stifling “walls” accompanied by an oppressive feeling. I wondered how I had not noticed how scary the place was until that point, but I began searching for a “door” or “window”, so to speak. At least that was how it was manifesting in my mind’s eye. Every place I touched I felt a gentle but persistent pressure of resistance that I liked less and less. I did not begin to panic right away, but I eventually got a bit frantic and the rapid change in heartbeat was so noticeable that focusing on it suddenly opened a “hole” that I was able to slip through. I found myself gasping for air as though I had not been breathing and shaking violently as though I had been in a physical fight. I was vividly aware of the fact that I had somehow “escaped” something, but unsure of what that was or what it meant.
One trip had me searching the black void not for holes but for texture. I think I decided to learn more about my prison in an effort to more easily escape it upon return, for at this point I was getting familiar with the recurring cycle of in and out. On that trip I recall putting my hand (sort of) in a cold ugly place that made me understand intuitively that She was pure Untruth. Meaning Her very existence was not even honest, and everything that She felt and thought was a lie. I could tell She was digging in D’s head for something and that focus on him brought me face to face with Her. It was almost as though my awareness of Her actions startled Her and She instantly began to say things to me that were ugly and terrible. I could not coherently register the actual words, more like pictures of emotions. I knew She intended D pain and harm and that I was a tool She wanted to use in that pursuit. This knowledge made me so instantly angry that I found myself shot-gunned to D like lightning and that brought me back from the dark place and into my body.
I think the above interchange actually took place over a series of several “trips away,” but after one return I realized it was getting harder for me to remain present in my body and harder for me to come back after I was gone. I also recall feeling at one point that maybe She had managed to form words and I tried to assess whether or not my mouth had been speaking. I asked D if She had said anything and he assured me She hadn’t said anything with my mouth but was trying to communicate with him through expression and maybe telepathy?? I told him She was full of terrible things and lies and to not believe anything She said. When he asked me what kinds of things She was saying, I knew instinctively that forming Her picture thoughts into words would give Her another tool, almost like teaching Her how to bend my body to Her will and make the words, so I did not tell him words, I just repeated over and over that they were “awful.” Unfortunately my mind was forming the words anyhow automatically; kind of like trying to “not think of a pink elephant.” That was a terrible mistake because sure enough a few more trips in and out and She was apparently telling D all kinds of lies and ugly untruths designed to hurt him most.
By this time D was getting frantic and worried. I can only imagine how strange and terrifying it is to watch a loved one shift with such rapid completeness. Add to that the hate filled things my mouth was telling him on Her behalf and various physical things my body was doing, and he was losing his handle on the good part of his trip pretty fast. She was trying to hurt D with words, but at some point She realized that hurting my physical body would hurt him far more than any words, so She tried to burn me with a lighter, and perhaps other things, I am not sure.
For most of the night I was oblivious to the darker parts of my trip. I knew I was fighting more and more to stay with D in the current plane, but when I was here, the trip was so much fun. The visuals were amazing, the energy in my body was overwhelming, the great sense of love I felt for D was intoxicating. I was having a great trip, I thought. But D was getting scared and frustrated, and he asked me to please not go away and leave him with Her. I remember smiling and promising not to go but no sooner had I decided I was done visiting that dark place, than She had me there against my will.
That was my first real moment of fear. Not only was it more difficult than ever to come back, She was now taking me whether I wanted to go or not. This was terrifying. She came more and more frequently, and I was pushed out of my own consciousness over and over. Each trip was taxing on my physical body. My leg would sort of jump, and my feet would sort of twist on the bed or floor or couch in an involuntary response to my intense concentration on trying to stay with D. I found I could stay with him longer if I was completely focused on him, but the drug made concentration almost impossible, so while my conscious mind was trying desperately to focus, the chemicals refused to allow me access to that part of my brain for very long.
Eventually panic set in and D and I tried to sleep. I would drift off as myself quite easily. It was probably 5am by that time and we were tired, but as soon as my conscious mind drifted, She was able to take hold and my body no longer acted tired. I was instantly up and prowling like a caged beast. Poor D was unable to get any sleep thanks to this and his fear of leaving me alone with Her, and maybe of his being vulnerable to Her while he slept. I was a mess of emotion each time I managed to come back, but each time She came back the emotions were gone and I was utterly someone else.
I began to find that focusing on D’s purple colors helped me hold on much longer, but as he hit his comedown, his purples faded into his usual greens, and green was not what I needed. I began to ask for Kenny. I knew instinctively that his purples would help me stay present. When he finally came home the next morning, I was still tripping and still fighting Her. D was exhausted and feeling defeated, and I was beginning to think I would have to give Her my body forever. Kenny walked in and his light was instantly brighter when he came towards me. She was instantly weaker and although my body was still fighting the trip with the jumpy leg and twisty feet bit, I was able to focus on his words and colors and hold on for a long time.
I think She only had me for a few seconds at a time in Kenny’s presence. I recall going to the bathroom to pee and glancing at my reflection briefly as I started to leave the room. My eyes seemed to flash with some odd unfamiliar color, and I did a double take. I have brown eyes, but the eyes I caught in the mirror were light, maybe blue, maybe even grey or white. But when I looked again of course they were brown again. I was however mesmerized by the haunted look on my face and the eyes that were staring back at me from my own skull. Yes, they were the right color, but they were wholly unfamiliar. There was hardness in them, an angry vengeful sharp quality that I have never before seen in my own face. I looked at myself for a very long time and found my reflection was smirking at me with a triumphant attitude. I thought “Why in the HELL am I smiling when I am so afraid and weirded out by my own reflection?” The answer was: I was not smiling. I touched my face and the shape of my mouth was not the smile shape on the face in the mirror. This startled me and I burst out of the bathroom and ran into the boys company. They asked me if everything was OK and not wanting to relive the experience, I said yes and pushed it out of my mind. It was surely the drug. That’s all.
I was eventually able to feel a sort of control over Her at some point in my comedown. The drug was an avenue of ease for Her and the less of it in my system, the less control She had. I still saw Her behind my eyes when I looked in the mirror. That continued for days after, and actually every once in a while I see Her to this day, smirking at me, waiting to be let out again.
The days and weeks immediately after the trip I had nothing but blank areas in my memory where She had taken hold, but I have thought of that night frequently ever since, and I have been able to piece together more and more fragments, some from what D told me, some from flashes of recollection that would wash over me when something reminded me of a particular event or moment. I did a great deal of soul searching for a while, trying to decide what “She” was.
I am not sure I believe in possession, but I know I did not enjoy the orgasm I had while “He” was with me personally and I know I saw or at least sensed every one of the people I seemed to see while tripping. It was as though a veil was lifted from my eyes while my body and brain were released from their usual prison of low-level consciousness. So perhaps if you allow it, possession is possible, and maybe that was what I did with the man that had sex with D. For a while I thought that was what I did with Her as well: unwittingly invited Her to enjoy a ride. But deep reflection and coming to grips with some unpleasant truths about myself, coupled with the recent re-reading of the first part of this account has led me to another conclusion:
The other people in the room, both living humans on this plane and the “others” all had colors that were discernable. The man that had sex w D for instance was a rosie melon color. But She was colorless. The fact that I mistook Her for D’s person had to do with Her location in relation to him. All of Kenny’s people were mostly focused on him and even oriented toward him. She was focused on D but from behind him, oriented in such a way that when I focused upon Her and Her own focus shifted to me, it required nothing more than a shift of the eyes.
The fact that I wanted to help Her and that I so instantly identified with Her even in Her deeply bleak and negative state of being, suggests that I felt obliged to do so. And the fact that She is still with me on occasion to this day is the final piece of the puzzle of Her identity. She was not a malicious spirit or poltergeist, She was me, or at least, the reverse side of me. She was the darker, uglier side of my nature, the part of me I have intentionally ignored, malnourished, stamped out, and tried to kill. This is what we do as “good people” when faced with our brutish and primal natures, we are civilized, so we refuse those darker impulses and usually ignore them, hating that part of ourselves.
She was merely a release of 27 years of pent up anger, frustration, hate, fear, self loathing, and a myriad other negative emotions that are disallowed by a human who has a soul with which to love. Her resentment toward D was probably more related to the fact that he fills me with light and love, which is the primary way I keep those ugly aspects of my personality in check.
All things considered, the experience was exhilarating, terrifying, and an excellent lesson in Self. I know something about myself now that I did not formerly understand, and for that, I would do it again. But this time, I will recognize Her if She shows up, and insist that She leave long before She has any opportunity to control me.
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