Citation: Catfish Rivers. "Other Dimensional Party Invitation: An Experience with 2C-T-2, 1,4-Butanediol, & Salvia divinorum (10x extract) (exp7822)". Erowid.org. Jul 14, 2001. erowid.org/exp/7822
32.5 mg 2ct2 swallowed in a gelcap. 2ml 1,4 butanediol had been consumed several hours prior to the start of this experience. I go outside to lie back on the grass and stare up at the crisp night sky. While it has been thunderstorming all day, the night has cleared up nicely. Nothing but moonlight, stars and lightning bugs in the sky.
2ct2 always seems to take its own sweet time getting in the psychedelic elevator. I am slowly begin my ascent into the ether. An underlying anxiety is present, perhaps due to the speedy feeling this compound has upon my old thumper at the onset. Perma grin is slowly finding its way to my face.
In between chatting on the internet, and watching Dune on t.v. I've lost track of the drug's action. I am having a very good time, feeling creative and funny, but I am almost able to forget that I am not in my sober mind. Visuals have begun to slosh around in a psychedelic stew. Words on the screen find their long lost neon after image twins and cross my eyes so that they can dance. The movement of the visuals seems to be linked to the flow of my blood, or rather to my heartbeat. Things are moving in a pulse wave manner. I feel like I have a built in, sound activate psychedelic screen saver. While the visuals are quite prominent, they still are more eye candy than anything else. Nothing seems to carry any insight, although I wouldn't kick the warm body glow I have outta bed!
I have just puffed a bowl of cannabis outside behind my pool at the edge of my backyard. I am feeling a great wave of pleasure and joy. I dance in a sort of shamanistic frenzy, purposefully so that I can focus my positive energy for the evening. Dancing outside always puts me in a special mood. I glance up at the sky and notice a few scant clouds that have parted in such a way as to form a giant smiley in the sky. I grin enthusiastically back at it, and whisper, 'me too world!' I am happy.
5 ml 1,4 butanediol mixed with fruit juice and ice. 1 bowl smoked cannabis. These are consumed slowly over the next hour. Sat down to an intense session of playing keyboard. Music originates from my hands effortlessly, with a flow that I do not usually find so nonchalantly. I can feel bubbles of bliss rising through my chest as I tickle the plastic ivories of my casio keyboard. My mind is clear and lucid, although I am certainly a heavy +++ at this point. I can make sober decisions, but I know that I am way out of orbit as well.
Visuals are controllable to a point. If I let my eyes relax their focus, the room becomes a mesh of neon yellow and purple webwork. The concrete block walls reveal thousands of nook and cranny gestaults that wink their patterns at me and then fade way. At points, I am seeing what seem to be hyroglyphs of all sorts painted on my basement walls. Then, if I pull my focus back, things tame down a bit.
I am impressed with the empathic component to this compound. Not quite the chemical rush of emotion one finds with MDMA, but rather a cleaning of the perceptual lense. I can look at my interactions with people clearly, without shame fogging everything up, or guilt leaving greasy smears across the viewfinder. I feel optimistic about the future of some old burnt down bridges in my closet and spend time sending off heartfelt emails to forgotten friends.
At this point I have entered the Paid Advertising Zone. I am absorbed in several info-mercials and the people that 'star' in them. They always seem to look almost like a major celebrity, but with a few flaws in the overall design. Another thing that disturbed me was the rapid manner in which their mouths seemed to move. I could not fathom that real people actually move their mouths at such high speeds. It brough me around to the phrase 'motor mouth,' which got me thinking that all of these people I was watching were actually androids being tested by the government. While this whole thought process sounds delusional, it was merely in humor. My mind was still quite it's usual self, just s abit more loopy.
Decided to go out for a swim, the water was ice cold against my skin. I did not last long before I had to dry off. I then skulked off behind the pool again and prepared a bowl with cannabis and a pinch (just enough to lightly dust the top of the bowl) of Salvia 10x. I had been a bit anxious about trying Salvia 10x again, being that my last experience introduced me to a soul-eating alien. But, after a small pep talk and a make shift prayer, I sparked the bowl and held the smoke for around 30 seconds. I could feel an alteration almost immedietly. My heart beat quickened. I finished the bowl in one more giant inhale and held again. This time upon exhaling, the world around me began to manifest 3-d holographic images left and right. I saw a small, glowing, laughing buddha ramble through my uncut lawn. A ghostly hawk swooped out of the darkness and perched upon the edge of my propane tank and eyed me down. I could feel a wonderful synergy taking place in my skull. Somehow, a feeling of Ah Ha! occurred. I felt as if I had peeled away one of the onion skins of relaity that separate us from other dimensions.
Whereas the 2ct2 on its own provided a whole mess of visuals, and some extra comedic mania, the addition of the Salvia 10x brought a cerebral quality normally lacking in 2ct2. It is this lack of the braniac factor that leads me classify this compound as a more recreational substance, rather than a true ethnogen. However, with the salvia power added things took on an entirely novel character. The visuals now seemed to be teeming with insight and subconscious revelation.
The surrounding forest took on a pervading sense that it was a gateway of some sort. That if I were to enter into its tangled murk, I would leave my own world behind. It actually felt like an invitation to cross the thresh hold into another existence. Fear prohibited me from traveling this path, so I offered up the gift of smoke to the spirit of Salvia and thanked it for the inivitation anyway. As I am walking back to my house, I am amazed at the way in which the stars playfully dart back and forth across my field of vision, as if they were pixies or wood faeries teasing me. I feel a minor blessing has been bestowed upon me, depite my choice not to cross worlds.
Back in my basement, oozing into my black leather couch. I am so relaxed, feeling quite possibly as close to sensory deprivation as I can without a little monkey tank to hole up in. My CEVs are dreamy and surreal. I am seeing very clear and realistic visions of people going about mudane things (like setting the table), nothing of real import. But, I am astounded at how absolutely real the visions appear. At times I am drawn into the outskirts of the scene, but never quite fully into it either, but rather tangent to it. Like peering at someone through Madam Zolar's crystal ball. I am tempted to declare that I have access the latent remote viewing powers of the mind, but there is no real proof, other than the fact that the images appear to be undeniably 'real'.
I smoke another bowl of cannabis and drink another 5ml 1,4B/fruit juice mixer. I put some OSHO whirling meditation music on repeat play and decide to drift off into dreams. This is a long time coming. I watch as the sun starts to bleach the navy blue curtains of nightfall out of the sky through my bedroom window. I pop .5 mg clonazepam at around 6 am to alleviate facial tension/jaw tension and am soon fast asleep.
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