Citation: DesperateCalls. "Experiencing Loss A Trip with Myself: An Experience with 1P-LSD (exp108063)". Erowid.org. Mar 11, 2016. erowid.org/exp/108063
||(blotter / tab)
Let's get this out of the way: I consider myself a very lucky tripper, since I have never had a bad trip over five years of using psychedelics once every few months. Based on my conversations with others, I feel like I have to note that, because I never shy away from negative thoughts and I'm always willing to go out of my comfort zone. People tell me that negative thoughts and uncomfortable zones create bad trips. For me personally, that hasn't been the case. Keep that in mind as you read through this, since I've been told it's fairly out of the ordinary.
To feed a growing interest in research chemicals, I decided to get a hold of some 1P-LSD from a trustworthy online source. I chose 1P because I heard it was very similar to classic LSD25, both chemically and in terms of effects. I'm not anything remotely resembling a scientist, so I can't speak in terms of chemical makeup, but purely in the way of effects- thoughts, feelings, visuals, the experience itself, I could not personally tell the difference between this chemical and LSD25. Google tells me that 1P is an analogue with very little chemical difference. Frankly, that seems legit going by my experience. If someone had told me this was LSD25, I would've believed them without a second thought. Not that I condone passing something off as something else, I say that only to emphasize that in my experience it's a very similar drug with near identical effects.
Set and Setting
One year before this trip, I experienced a very difficult breakup. I'm not going to be a whiny ball of sadness about that, but it is a factor since I know that I'm still not over it. I could not help it becoming a factor, so it has to be mentioned. One month before this trip, I moved by myself over one thousand miles away from my hometown, leaving behind my family and the few friends I had left. I moved in with three random people who I had never verbally spoken with until I pulled up to the house we were slated to share. I have a room to myself, containing everything familiar and comfortable to me: TV, computer, easel, art shit, a mountain of books, a closet, and a bed. To complete the timetable-trifecta, one day before this trip, I finally finished getting settled into my room to the point where I can refer to it as being “the way I want it”. I had the house to myself for most of the trip, my roommates came home approximately 7 hours after I dropped. I should also mention that I was slightly hungover from a trip to a burlesque show the night before, but that turned out to only matter for the first hour. So here we go, the timestamped section, my trip itself. I'm writing this two days after the trip, so forgive me for any gaps.
The Trip Itself
T+0.00 (11:00AM): I woke up at 9:00AM, but it's not until 11 that I've finally decided I'm not hungover enough to ditch my plan to trip. I've eaten some unhealthy food, pounded a bunch of water, and took two aspirin. My headache is gone and my stomach is getting better by the second. In fact I feel almost perfect except for a slight run-down feeling, a feeling I'd compare to not getting quite enough sleep. I feel a giddy sense of anticipation as I turn my lights off. I have no clue if light damages this chemical, but I'm not taking any chances. I open my closet, and pull down the book that I have it hidden inside. Stephen King's IT. Chuckling to myself, I open to the chapter I have the tabs hidden at: Walking Tours. This makes me think about taking a walk later, and I try to remember where the parks are in this town. That's when I remember I'm about to take a drug that I've never had before, and I get a little nervous. It's been a while since I've tried a new drug, so I almost feel like I'm at the top of the first hill on a roller coaster. I slip the tab under my tongue, 125ug locked and loaded.
T+0.05 (11:05AM): I realize I have to use the bathroom in a way that will not have me back in my bedroom within fifteen seconds, if you catch my drift. Cursing myself for not noticing sooner due to anticipation, I sit down on the toilet and hope that this doesn't kick in too fast.
T+0.20 (11:20AM): While in the bathroom, I noted that the tab had a slight metallic taste to it. In thinking on this now that the trip is over, I'm pretty sure it was because of the amount of ink on the blotter. At the time I thought “oh shit, this better not be an NBOMe”. Given my past experience with them, at this point I'm sure it wasn't, but at the time it gave me a bit of anxiety. I finished up in the bathroom and put on a two-part episode of My Little Pony to pass the time. Don't worry haters, that won't ever come up again past the next timestamp.
T+0.41 (11:41AM): At the conclusion of the first episode, I notice that I'm feeling pretty restless. Some nausea has returned, but I'm not sure whether to attribute it to a slight resurgence of my hangover or the drug. Nevertheless, I feel uncomfortable in my body. I find myself wanting to stretch indefinitely. I consider lying down, but opt to stay sitting and push my way through the second episode of the MLP two-parter. By the time it ends, my restlessness has intensified further. I would almost call it stim-like, but it was more like just a general discomfort with staying still. No visuals have formed at this point, nor is there any change in my headspace, but the best way to describe my feeling is that I wished I could literally blast off like a rocket. I keep stretching because it feels good, but at this point…
T+1.03 (12:03PM): I decide to lay down for a while. I'm confident that I'm pretty deep into the comeup, but I'm also starting to get frustrated at the lack of any visuals or a change in headspace. I lay back and rub my eyes. This also feels good, a lot like stretching, so I keep rubbing them. A blotch of purple color behind my eyelids explodes into a cascade of green glitter, and I'm slightly taken aback by how beautiful it was, so I stop rubbing my eyes to check up on the world around me.
T+1.07 (12:07PM): The ceiling is melting. My off-white static walls have transformed into a running creekbed. Pinks and blues, all highlighted by yellows are cascading all around me, and my curtain is swaying in the wind. Except the window isn't open, so there is no possibility of legitimate wind, and I could've swore the curtain was supposed to have a floral pattern on it, but now it's covered in dancing couples. All right, that sure came right the hell out of nowhere. I have no idea if I still felt nauseous or not, to be honest, that aspect completely left my mind as the world's textures decided to start being entertaining.
T+1.15 (12:15PM): Methodically, I get up off my bed and pick up my wallet, keys, and phone. All the things I take with me when I'm going somewhere, except I accidentally leave behind a pocketwatch I also carry, one that my ex-girlfriend gave me several years ago. We'll get back to that. I walk to the front door and freeze, before saying “wait” out loud to myself, then following up with “what are you doing?” “Going for a walk”, I respond to the air. I giggle for a few seconds to myself, taking comfort in the fact that I can talk to myself since no one else is home. I open the front door, and the screen door behind it is dotted with every color of the rainbow along with every color between them. I briefly consider if going out in public is an intelligent move, before deciding that yes, I am still capable of remaining on a sidewalk and walking in a straight line. I pop open my car, grab my sunglasses, shut and lock it again, and set off walking down the road.
T+1.52 (12:52PM): I distinctly remember that time, since it was when I looked at my phone and opened Google Maps in order to get a bit of direction toward one of the local parks. I'd been walking the streets somewhat aimlessly for the half hour before now, my head touching on a myriad of different subjects. At first I felt uncomfortable, since I didn't know the neighborhood very well. I thought about going back to the house, but ended up thinking deeply about the nature of uncertainty. I came to the conclusion that I'm horrified of the uncertain, but also morbidly curious of it at the same time. Despite my fear of going away from my friends and family, despite my dread at the prospect of being alone, here I was. Living with strangers in a strange city, walking down a strage street all alone. This didn't cause me any panic, as I looked at the various houses on the street and considered the fact that at one point, most of the people who lived in them were probably in a similar situation. This made me feel a sense of connection with the neighborhood, despite its unfamiliarity. I found myself wishing that someone would come outside so I could say hello. In hindsight, I'm glad no one did, because I'm not sure if I could've hid the fact that I was tripping. At this point textures were so enhanced that I was expecting the different types of ground around me to have strange attributes. I imagined that gravel would behave like Scrooge McDuck's money pit, so I avoided walking on it. I knew that it was only the drug, that all the surfaces were indeed solid, but nevertheless... grass looked like the hairy back of some great beast, while other stones looked generally unstable and dirt reminded me of quicksand. I stayed on the sidewalk, which my mind considered safe. At this point absolutely nothing was the “correct” color, everything was basically made of microscopic rainbow strings. I've experienced this effect on psychedelics before, it always gets me thinking about string theory, atoms, and the near incomprehensible way that the universe is put together. The “right” color would of course be dominant, it's not like I was unaware that dirt was brown, but it asserted itself in the same way that a large image can be formed by hundreds of smaller ones. In addition to the color, all texture was still melting and cascading as if it were liquid. I imagined diving on the ground and riding its wake like an interstellar slip-n-slide, but I avoided doing that because y'know, I was still aware that I was just on a drug and in public. Anyway, I whispered a thank you to Google for showing me where to go, and set off toward the park.
T+2.00 (1:00PM): I've never actually been to this park, I've only spotted it while walking past and made a mental note to swing by it one day. As far as I knew, there was a creek in the center of it surrounded by large rocks with a tree overlooking it. I was stunned to find out that the creek was artificial. It was made of cement with decorative stones inlaid, though that didn't stop it from flowing to my eyes. I thought briefly about how whoever had built this park probably planned on installing some kind of actual running water there, but likely didn't have the money to do so. That made me sad, and I wished I could find them and help them pay for it. Then I giggled about how ridiculous that train of thought was, considering I had no idea if such a person even existed or if the park was just commissioned by the town or something. I laid down across two of the large rocks and gazed up, with most of my field of view dominated by the sky, though a pine tree poked in from the left. For the next hour I watched planes fly by, mentally populating them. I imagined each passenger, their relationships to the other passengers, where they were going and for what reason. These were real planes, not hallucinations, I live near an airport. They left heavy tracers across the sky, accentuated by their actual white trail. Sometimes I would look at the tree, its needles being half brown and half green. Each branch looked like an arm reaching toward the sky, begging for the nourishment of the sun. I thought deeply about how people do the same thing, in their own way, each of us begging the cosmos for answers. I thought about the passage of time, the seasons, and how Spring tends to be neglected due to the anticipation for it to transition to Summer. I took a minute to be thankful for Spring, and I was happy to see the tree coming back to life in front of me. It was at that point that I realized I didn't have my pocketwatch with me. I've carried it alongside my other essentials every single day for almost four years now, ever since my ex gave it to me, and that reality hit me in the brain like a ton of bricks. My eyes watered a bit, and I set off back toward the house. It did not occur to me that I might have lost it, which was lucky. I'm pretty sure I would've cried if I'd thought that, but for some reason I was certain I'd just left it at the house. I spent most of the walk back thinking about how much I missed my ex and wishing I had a way to contact her. This was the lowest point of the trip, by a huge margin. Not having my pocketwatch really messed with me, which is funny when I think back on it now. It's odd, the things that can kick a trip in different directions.
T+3.15 (2:15PM): I get back home and go immediately to my desk. I take my wallet, keys, and phone out of my pockets, then shove the pocketwatch into one of them. I instantly feel more comfortable with it, and decide to play a video game in order to actually talk to some people. I fire up Team Fortress 2, and jump into the Co-Op mode, Mann vs. Machine. If you're totally unfamiliar with that game, you might as well skip this timestamp, because I'm not going to explain its intricacies, but I don't want to leave it out either because I was laughing the entire time I played. So hard that by the time my team actually completed the match, my face was in a bit of pain. As anyone familiar with it knows, Mann vs. Machine requires each member of the team to perform a specific function to defeat waves of robots that attack you. My team was constantly on the very edge of losing, which I found absolutely hilarious. Time dilation was a large factor for me at this point, one minute felt like at least an hour. Therefore, each segment of the game would feel like it was an adventure, covered in ups and downs. I had a very fun time talking to my team and encouraging them to persevere, despite their amazing lack of skill at the game. Had I been sober, I probably would've quit on them within the first five minutes. I considered adding them to my friends list at the end of the game, but knew I would regret it when I came down. It was funny while it lasted.
T+4.30 (3:30PM): The game took longer than I expected, but that was alright given how much I laughed. Once it was over I pulled out a sketchbook and started drawing. I traced my shadow, then for some reason got extremely frustrated at that and threw it away. At that point I broke out my easel and resolved to just draw whatever came out of my head. I ended up drawing an ice-blue strawberry, split by a yellow void down the middle on a backdrop reminiscent of my ex-girlfriend's red and purple hair. The following is difficult to explain, and this activity wound up being very personal to me, so I won't be able to get very detailed. I put my palm to my face when I realized that my head decided to spit a likeness of my ex's hair onto this paper, but it didn't bother me enough to stop. To be honest I found it very comforting to get that feeling out in some way after my earlier scare with the pocketwatch. My drawing had an abstract sexual quality to it, I'm willing to admit to myself even when I tripped that the void in the center of the strawberry was basically a vagina. Sound took on an odd quality while I drew. My surroundings were dead silent apart from the scratch of colored pencil on paper, which seemed to adapt to the subject matter and become very… wet sounding. I can't think of another way to describe it, but the scratching of my pencils sounded more like a squish/slurp than anything else. It felt like I was releasing a bit of built-up sexual tension, to be honest, but I want to be clear that I did not feel aroused. This was a very strange and personal experience. I find it difficult to think back on. It wasn't negative nor positive, and I'm not sure that I've ever felt whatever emotion my mind was channeling as I drew before. My visuals lightened up as I drew. I now see strange runes in every texture, the kind of thing you would see in the medieval fantasy genre. The cascading/melting/moving aspect is mostly gone. Color is still enhanced and “incorrect”, ie rainbows everywhere, although it's become fairly static. My thoughts were centered mostly around coming to grips with the changes in my life, and the reasons why I made them. When I finished the drawing, I felt a distinct relief, as if I'd gotten rid of a significant burden. This part of the trip was very personal, and I find it difficult to pinpoint exactly what I was going through even in my own reflection. I believe it may have been a step toward getting over my ex, but it's too soon to definitively make that call. Only time will tell.
T+6.15 (5:15PM): I realize that I'm hungry, and chinese food sounds incredible. I also realize that I've been biting my lip for the past hour, and it's bleeding slightly in one place. This makes the walk to the chinese place pretty horrible in retrospect, but at the time it didn't bother me as much as it probably should have. Before now, I hadn't realized quite how hungry I was, but I'm positively starving. I think about also getting ice cream from the local supermarket in the same plaza, but just end up laughing to myself over what a logistical nightmare that is. Do I get the chinese food first and bring it into the supermarket? That's odd, I don't really want to do that. Do I get the ice cream first and risk it melting? No, that'd be horrible. In the end I decide not to get ice cream at all. This entire time, my lips feel like water balloons, and I'm constantly licking at the spot that started bleeding earlier, which doesn't allow it to close all the way. I get nervous that I'll look like a crazy person who just got in a fight, so I head straight to the bathroom when I get to the chinese place, only to find that I look completely normal. My lip isn't even bleeding noticeably, just enough for me to be able to taste it. I order my food, mess around on the internet on my phone, and walk back home. This is also when my headspace must've started normalizing to some degree, since I don't remember thinking much on the walk home. I was uncomfortable with cars coming up behind me on the main road, but I don't think I know the area well enough to successfully take a back route. Using my phone as a map doesn't occur to me, I was too pre-occupied with how strange my lips feel. I imagine again that they're giant water balloons full of blood, and consider sketching that when I get back home.
T+6.40 (5:40PM): I forget to sketch as I think about how frankly shitty the walk to the chinese place was. I attribute this negativity 100% to the taste of blood on my lip, I wish that wouldn't have happened. I watch an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation while I eat. It's an episode where Data rescues a kid from an exploding ship, and the kid starts acting like him as a result. I think a whole lot about the idea of humans turning into robots during it, but mostly I just pay attention to the episode. I do manage to take a few notes on that subject and consider writing about it at some point, but that wouldn't be today.
T+7.20 (6:20PM): My roomates come home. I'll call them Alex, Chris, and Bill. Those aren't their real names of course. Alex retreats to his room, Chris and Bill sit in the living room. I turn on one of those electric plasma lamps (the kind you put your hand on to make electricity rush to it), and play with it while I try to decide if I'm still tripping too hard to show my face or not. Eventually Chris knocks on my door and says they're going to drink together, and my desire to spend some time with people after being alone all day trumps my will to avoid alcohol and preserve what little there is left of my trip.
T+7.35 (6:35PM): I ride with them to the liquor store. We crack jokes, talk about music, and I don't really feel a need to tell them that I'm tripping. I still feel giddy and every once in a while my thought process kicks off in a random direction, but apart from that the trip is over. Visuals are completely gone except for color being slightly enhanced on a basic level. Blue is more blue than usual, red is more red, stuff like that. The rainbow strings of the universe are no longer something I can see.
T+8.10 (7:10PM): We watch an episode of Regular Show together before we start drinking, and talk about cartoons from our childhoods. My trip is over, so I don't mind drinking with them at all. Visuals are back to normal and my mind is no longer going anywhere out of the ordinary. So we drink, play Mario Kart, and generally have a good time hanging out.
T+12.00 (1:00AM): We go to bed. I feel very content as my head hits the pillow. I avoided getting drunk beyond a pleasant buzz, so that I wouldn't lose any memories whatsoever surrounding my trip. I fall asleep almost instantly.
T+24.00 (The Next Day): I feel a very nice afterglow, the same type that regular LSD25 would give me. I feel content with my life, and I'm learning a lot about myself on reflection. I left out some of the more personal moments that occurred while I was walking and drawing, frankly because they're too personal to include. Sorry about that! Suffice to say that they were moments where I thought deeply about my life and the people in it, along with the one who is no longer in it, my ex. It may not sound like it by my report, but this trip was awesome. As I said at the start, I'm an odd one in that I enjoy exploring negative thoughts and emotions alongside the positive ones when I trip. My lips feeling like water balloons, the inescapable taste of blood while I walked to get food, the awkward fretting over my pocketwatch… all of that rings just as enjoyable in hindsight to me as lying in the park watching the planes, drawing, and playing Team Fortress. As I mentioned, as far as I can tell, 1P-LSD is functionally identical to regular old acid. It gave me the full psychedelic experience, from the introspective headspace to the colorful visuals.
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