DOSE:

600 ug

buccal

25B-NBOMe

(blotter / tab)

BODY WEIGHT:

135 lb

600 mcg 25B-nBOME.

I brushed my teeth before I stuck the faint green piece of paper in between my lower gum and lip. I figured brushing them would help with the buccal absorption and the mint would mask some of the bitter taste of the 25B-nBOMe.

I had laid the blotters about a month ago but this was my first time trying them, after reading trip reports online I settled on 600 mcg, a piece of paper a little larger than 1cm x 1 cm. This size of paper fit comfortably in my mouth and I was still able to talk while helping my housemate, R, clean out our inherited mess of half drank beer bottles, soggy clothing, lint, and an assortment of other random shit (including a papier-mâché body).

We sorted through the rubbage, throwing some music equipment and other interesting artifacts in one pile, leaving bags and trash in other piles and finally hauling it to the back alley. After 20 minutes of doing this my lower lip was thoroughly numb and I could feel slight tinges of tension throughout my body. While not entirely pleasant this was not enough to stop me from continuing to help out. Soon after I went to the bathroom and noticed the tiles and windows slightly breathing and swaying. I thought it odd how mentally affected I was feeling at what I perceived to be a low dose considering the periods of time where I used significantly larger doses of psychedelics near weekly for months. They simply do not treat my body as kindly as they used to, I don’t know if it is simply age or a psychosomatic response to some slight anxiety I have about tripping now. Either way I still felt nauseous, the taste of the drug clinging to my mouth despite having spit it out some while ago.

After a slight while longer cleaning I told R I was unable to go on, the dark dirty atmosphere of the basement combined with my growing inability to adequately control fine movements was making the task at hand more and more unpleasant. We took one last load back to the alley and then I retired upstairs to my room. I had planned on going biking but the weather forecast suggested rain. I instead grabbed my iPod and lay down on my balcony, feeling the cool wind of the upcoming storm rush through the slats below me and onto my bare back. This combined with the near 10 degree drop in temperature helped sooth the unpleasantness of the previously mentioned body high transforming it into a more manageable and pleasurable lull of energy like one gets from slow stretches.

With my glasses off I looked at the clouds and through the trees and the fuzzy borders between them twinkled with an assortment of colors, yellows and reds and the expected blues and greens. They looked almost like an assortment of kaleidoscopes on a green forest background and I was captivated by them before the wind started really picking up and the skies began letting loose a multitude of raindrops, a few at time at first and then many many more. I debated simply taking off my clothes, leaving my belongings inside, and getting soaked but I decided that after, at most, 5 minutes of that I would be sick and tired of it and then would have to dry myself off.

I instead climbed into my lofted bed and continued listening to the sonic landscape of Loscil’s “Sketches from New Brighton.” As I closed my eyes and cuddled up in a soft blanket my mind raced through mental images and half images and things that couldn’t be described as images but still were imagery. At times these fleeting glimpses pulsed brighter with the music but mostly they were quiet.

My body repositioned itself from time to time as parts of it came into my awareness again, sometimes due to stiffness from an odd position, others from the light passage of air from my fan. As I lay there I wished there was someone to hold me, that I could be a little spoon and be held as I mentally floated through the sonic landscape that I was engrossed in. My girlfriend, M, was sailing in the Caribbean for two months and I really wasn’t able to communicate with her much. I also wondered if she would even be fine with me tripping, just holding me, while she was mostly sober. She doesn’t partake in many drugs and, while there had been times that we had hung out while I happened to be tripping it was mostly incidental. I figured it would probably be odd if one day I just took drugs and chilled with her.

After that my thoughts floated towards human sexuality and the existence of a person as a face. I am always confused by genitals when I’m tripping. They indicate, to me, a finite aspect of life and a need to procreate, which while tripping is hard to comprehend. When I’m lying down in my room and I think three hours pass while I listen to two songs it’s hard for me to think of myself as non-eternal. Additionally the outward aspect of male genitalia plus the general unpleasantness of their shape compared to the smooth lines of the rest of the body make them downright fucking ugly to me while tripping. And the thought that you put this piece of flesh of yours inside someone else, that you kiss them with your mouth. Well it’s just gross while tripping. It’s gross while your sober too but you just focus on all the nice aspects that your mind has trouble acknowledging while intoxicated of this variety.

On faces: People think of a person as their face. When I imagine my dad I think of my dad’s face. When I think of where I exist I think of my face because visual perception occurs from the eyes located on the face. It’s weird, you never consider your body, yet bodies look significantly nicer than faces. After pondering this and other odd musings for a while I opened my eyes and stretched. I attempted to motivate myself to move but sank back into my bed for another song before walking downstairs. While I had felt multiple hours elapse in reality only 45 minutes passed.

I was unsteady on my feet and unsure of what I was doing as I came into our living room. One of my housemates was watching psych and I mumbled a word to him before draining a glass of water. The slight sense of nausea returned while drinking, it felt very bizarre to have anything in my mouth. I returned back upstairs and talked to another housemate about dinner plans. We had both been invited over to a friend’s for dinner but I had been unable to motivate myself to get to the phone and call the invitee. J did this for me, told our host that I was being ‘funny’ and we’d be over later. After slowly managing to rouse myself from my seat in my room I showered (always a pleasant affair while tripping) and then J drove over to a liquor store to get some beer for the evening.

I looked at the fridge full of beer and was struck and stuck by the options. I didn’t want to get something everyone had heard of but also wanted it to be well liked. This decision was much harder than it should have been but I finally picked out something random and headed over to the cash register. I handed over my fake ID without even being asked, assuming that the outstretched hand was a question in itself, despite the previous visits to this particular store going over without them even asking my age. I paid without incident and J drove us back home.

When we arrived at the dinner party I realized I was incredibly hungry, atypical for me while tripping, and relatively cognizant, enough so that nobody knew I was under the influence. I had a beer, wolfishly ate my meal, and kept relatively quite, save for a few outbursts of laughter. As the night progressed I continued drinking, albeit slowly, and noticed that the slight stimulation and focus from the remnants of my trip offset the sluggish nature of the alcohol.

When the night drew to a close J and I headed back to our house and I passed out around 1 AM, a rarity after tripping for me, waking up refreshed and completely fine the next day. I would definitely repeat this drug. While I initially thought I was going to be a bit further out than I would like it ended up being a great middle ground between something incredibly shallow like 2C-C and something deeper and more emotional like 2C-T-2 or 2C-E. The body load was pleasant and the visuals gentle and inviting. I have done both 25I and 25C before but can’t draw any great parallels between them as I have tried each only once. Certainly a good time and I would recommend this to a newbie.

Exp Year: 2013	ExpID: 100671
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 20
Published: Apr 13, 2016	Views: 2,590
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25B-NBOMe (564) : General (1), Small Group (2-9) (17)