Hello everyone! First time poster and aspiring psychonaut here, eager to share my most recent trip with all you people that I don't know. I am an 18 year old male in Alabama who smokes a LOT of weed, and has at least sampled a multitude of other substances. As you might imagine, psychedelics aren't particularly prevalent down here in the Old South, so I'm always quick to gobble them up when they happen to roll through town. It was a typical Friday afternoon, and myself and my friends had just been let out on parole for a few days from the awful prison known as high school. I met up with a friend and we went to his contact's apartment to pick up what he assured me was some fire-ass bud. He'd usually had me wait in the car while he went inside, but for some reason I accompanied him upstairs this time. And a good thing I did, for little did I suspect that my Uncle Cid would be there! I'd never met this dealer before, but he seemed like a pretty cool guy. The weed was all that was promised and more, dense and crystally, albeit a bit pricey. After purchasing an eighth, I matched a few bowls with the guy out of his 500 dollar bong. Very successful trip, I thought, never dreaming that the dealer's roommate was about to ask: "You guys wanna buy some acid? My friend upstairs is selling it." My heart froze in my chest. It had been so long -- six months to be exact, during the summer when I saw the Dark Knight in IMAX . LSD to me had been such an amazing experience at the time, a quantum leap from the lazy, quasi-psychedelic plant that I enjoyed so much. The summer in question was one "of love," at least by Alabama's standards, because I was able to obtain acid tabs at relatively reasonable prices(8$ a hit) on several occasions. Well, all good things must come to an end-- both the summer and the sudden wave of acid in town. I had chased Lucy's shade for months after school had started again, but to no avail; she was gone... ... but not forever, it would seem! "Why yes," I said calmly, "I would certainly like to purchase some lsd." I didn't even flinch at the price: 15$/hit! The friend I'd come to the apartment with also purchased a tab, though he intended to flip it, saying he didn't feel like wasting his time on that "hippie shit." Well I certainly did, so I quickly finished my business transaction and left this magical tower with bud on the 2nd floor and acid on the 5th. I jumped through all the hoops I had to for a successful night of tripping, i.e. telling my parents to fuck off for the night and heading over to my friend's place. When I arrived, I was surprised to find several of my other friends already there, all amateur drug users. Well, this is gonna be an interesting night to say the least, I thought. I packed some bong bowls for my pals, and suckled on my acid tab (which had Bugs Bunny on it, if I recall correctly). The owner of the apartment I was at also ate his, having bought it from the friend I picked up the weed with (we'll call him Bugs). Upon finishing the toking, I realized that this weed wasn't just great, it was FANTASTIC. I was completely stoned, full body high and everything. This affected the trip rather strangely; the feeling of lethargy brought on by weed was carried by the acid as I began to trip, so for the next few hours I was the laziest person in the world. Interesting things began to happen as the onset of the trip began. Bugs' apartment was usually a popular hang out spot, but that night it was positively bustling. Before long we had over 10 people in the tiny, one-bedroom apartment, and every one of them was after my weed! It wasn't that they were trying to use me or steal it, but when one is in the presence of such a legendary herb, it is hard to think about anything else. Ordinarily, I would have been more than happy to continue the toking, but tonight I was in the grip of a far more powerful substance. I could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on me. One black dealer that I bought from sometimes asked me if I wanted to split a blunt with him. I was tripping hard enough at this point just to smile at him and hide behind the couch. Fortunately, I was saved from these unenlightened masses by Bugs, as he implored me to follow him into his bedroom. Normally, I might have taken this as some sort of homosexual advance on me, but tonight was far from normal. We were acid brothers, so I readily entered the secret tripping room. And boy was I glad I did -- motherfucker had a black light! We sat in the purple room and listened to music literally for hours. I remember looking into his closet and thinking that one of his shirts was frighteningly red, to appear so even in the presence of the almighty black light. Certain close friends entered this room and sought our sage counsel over the next few hours. A blunt was smoked. Plastic was played with. At one point I feared that I was at the onset of a bad trip. You see,When I'm on psychedelics, there's a certain place in mind that I never want to go, a kind of private purgatory. In this place, it's not that things don't make sense; something like that wouldn't frighten me, I'm no stanger to absurdism. No, the scary part is that things only sort of make sense. It's as though everyone around me is acting to fulfill a certain pattern and I simply can't figure out what that pattern is. Well that's the feeling I began to have, flanked by two friends in the wicked glow of the black light. "I think I'm starting to trip out," I said apprehensively. One of my friends laughed, and I did too, suddenly realizing why it was funny. No more bad feelings entered into this trip. After hours in the trippy room, Bugs decided that it was time to see what had become of the outside world (his living room) and we ventured forth. The world we found was very different from the one we had left. Only three people remained, and were hard at work producing rap music. This actually frightened me for a second, as it seemed like some sort of crazy hallucination that would be brought on by LSD. I quickly calmed myself when I realized that I knew these people, and they had been doing this shit here for weeks. I sat and appreciated their work for another hour, until they left. There were now three people in the apartment besides myself, all of them close friends. I decided it was time to tap into that weed again. I know I've said this before, but this weed was SUPERB. Just breaking it up was really cool; THC crystals fell from it in a delicious white power, so fine I was tempted to snort a line of it. "This weeds is fucking BIBLICAL!" I exclaimed. Coming down from the peak of my trip, it seemed the perfect adjective to describe it. Well it got us all stoned as fuck, so we took a trip up to BK. Normally I don't like eating when I'm tripping, but the weed made that food a gift from the gods (thought I still couldn't finish it all). We got back to the apartment and chilled for another hour. I was officially on the outs of the trip. Bugs and I decided to walk to the gas station down the road from his place, and we embarked. I believe it was around 1 in the morning at this point. No sooner had we arrived, when we were accosted by a RAVING CRACKHEAD. He made strange noises at us and asked us for money. I couldn't help laughing at this strange creature, but I gave him a dollar anyway. Bugs said he would give the man the change from whatever he bought inside, but the thing scampered off into the darkness and was not seen again. I thought that the world would be a lot better place is drugs were legalized. Why would you ever do something like crack, if LSD was readily availible? Try telling that to those fat cats in Washington. Feh. Not much really happened after this. I went home and listened to a few good albums, such as Paul's Boutique, and Electric Music for the Mind and Body. Good stuff. OH yeah, I also watched an episode of the Sopranos, and Tony had this dream sequence that was pretty trippy. That was cool. I hope this report wasn't too long and rambling. I'm not a very practiced writer, by any means.
I'm sure it's not too different from anywhere else, I guess I just don't know where to look. I'm lucky I'm in a college town and not some rural village.
that place in your mind where things only sort of make sense, i was on mush with a friend and he went there. he felt like he was stuck transitioning between ignorance and knowledge, and he couldn't quite get through to knowledge. what helped him was to stop trying to get through, and accept that, maybe tonight is not the night you get that knowledge. and sure enough, as soon as he relaxed, it all fell into place and he got it. it is the struggle that is the demon, not the demon. imo awesome report and grats on getting it
Everything in your trip report was great until you had to dis on the 2 people who actually love you and brought you into the world and feed, clothe, do your dirty underwear and house you, little ungrateful snot.
Yeah were all just a bunch of wife beater rednecks. Everyone here acts like that. Stereotypes are just a bunch of bull shit. What college do you speak of? I'm near UAH and I know how hard it is to acquire acid. The only acid I have ever had came from Wahnee (the music festival, if that is how you spell it) in Florida.
Sorry for the double post, but I just realized what UAH was. That's odd IreMan, down here it's common conjecture that Huntsville is the lsd capital of the south. Me and my friend almost took a road trip up there (a 4 hour drive) to get some cheap hits.
Many people try drugs BECAUSE they're filled with angst towards their parents, god knows I was one of them. Nothing wrong with feeling like a teenager. (you know, while you're a teenager )
well i don't live in huntsville. i live in a small town 20 minutes away from madison. but i never heard that Hville was the acid capital of the south. i guess it really does depend on who you know. i need to check that out.
I was too once but I never crossed that line I guess. Telling them to f off. maybe i'd say, " LEAVE ME ALONE!!"
Well, it was actually a metaphor for calling them and telling them that I would be going to a movie or something. Quit bitching at me.
