Citation: Timshel. "Surprisingly Powerful with Entity Contact: An Experience with 4-HO-DPT (exp113590)". Erowid.org. Sep 19, 2019. erowid.org/exp/113590
This was my first experience with this drug. I took this amount because I had heard that 4-HO-DPT was less potent by mass than other 4-substituted tryptamines, and read a trip report on this dose that led me to believe it would be around the intensity of perhaps 35-45 mg of 4-AcO-DMT. I was wrong. It was the second strongest trip of my life as of writing. At the time of this trip, I was coming out of an intense identity and existential crisis that had manifested in the frequent use of large doses of 4-subbed tryptamines. So I was psychologically OK, but definitely not in a normal state of mind.
I remember taking it. I remember perhaps 25 minutes later watching patterns stand up in relief against my wall, and after that I do not remember anything in this reality. The rest of this trip report describes a series of events I remember, but I have no idea what order they happened in, so donít take this as a chronological retelling.
I was viewing myself in the third person, at eye level, perhaps fifteen feet away.
I was viewing myself in the third person, at eye level, perhaps fifteen feet away.
There was no front or back to the building I was in, and the background was a sunny, slightly cloudy sky or flat panels of color, depending on the time. The building around me was populated with objects that would exist in a normal human building, but the building was shaped into chaotic geometric shapes that defied gravity and all laws of physics. As holes opened up in the shifting rooms around me, I stepped into other rooms, or my body did, moving from place to place while simultaneously staying completely still. The building around me changed in form. In particular, I remember: a drab office, a Persian throne room, a desert oasis, my own home, an apartment building under construction, a skyway with glass walls, and some sort of room made of gold and sapphires. But there were many more than that, those are just what I can recall.
I viewed a canvas divided into two colors. These colors were at odds and poked, prodded each other. Both fluctuated through and beyond the rainbow, but in general the first one stayed primarily white and red and the second was usually black. I assign this order because I was identifying the first one as myself. My entire being was a blob of color, and it was me. I pushed back against the other color, knowing it was pointless, that neither would win, but it was all we existed for to interact with each other. The other color was in a sense an enemy, but in an equally real sense was a colleague, who I conflicted with cordially, without any personal judgement. And when I say conflicted, I donít mean we just nudged at each other. It began that way, but we came to embody all conflicts and contradictions as they exist in our world. I remember taking the form of warring generals, commanding armies made up of ourselves, in flat mono-color design like an old videogame, and as we advanced and our front waves died, our soldiers progressed through the ages and technology advanced in seconds, such that a soldier that began a battle with a rag and a sling would suddenly find themselves with now an axe, now a spear, now a sword, now a bayonnetted gun, now an M16. I remember viewing the two of us as physical forces: gravity, electromagnetism, and the nuclear forces, fighting each other, pulling reality in opposite directions, seemingly in conflict, but underneath that conflict was in fact harmony, as our opposing influences resulted in the way all things are. Contradictions within the essence of things resolved themselves into everything. Basically, I became one half of the great duality that is the engine of all change and development in the universe. Toward the end, I realized that this was fundamentally similar to Taoism, and my adversary and I formed into the Yin/Yang. First (and to this day only) Taoist imagery I have seen while tripping.
At some point, I came to perceive that all of time had been, and would be, a progression through three different states of being. What we normally perceive as linear, continuous time was in fact a discrete, periodic function. Meaning that it had finite possible values (three of them), and these repeated, in the same order, forever. It was geometric time. Triangular time. I understood this geometric time in a very concrete, visual way that was predominantly orange, but I otherwise cannot describe.
There exist a collection of places and scenarios that I have seen and/or been multiple times across multiple trips. On this trip I saw many of them. I will try to describe as many as I can remember, in as much detail as possible. But I will most likely only recall a third or so of them.
These different places and scenarios were arranged in a geometric way, which to explain I will go on a tangent that will become relevant. Most people think of the arrangement of the Death Star in one of two ways. Either it is like a series of concentric spheres, or it is a sphere split into stacked, circular floors - the layer cake model. It is this layer cake model that is the image I am going for. Picture that, but each level is a different one of these places I will describe. And, of course, the sphere does not stay a sphere, but transitions at breakneck pace through a series of psychedelic geometry. I saw this object every time I switched between these visions.
Iím in a dark place, with a dark purple stone pillar in front of me, extending infinitely up and down. This pillar is covered in geometric patterns, and I rush up it, towards something, maybe? Extremely fast, so fast that I canít ever see the pattern on the pillar, but know itís there.
I am in the back of a white van, parked in a parking lot at a beach, closely resembling Linda Mar beach in California. The back of the van is open, and I am staring out of it at the ocean, which is turbulent, with 5-6 foot waves. The sky is overcast.
I sit in a two-story building which consists entirely of empty rooms with hardwood floor and white paint on the walls and ceiling. I know this despite the fact that I stay inside a single room, because my perspective is third-person omniscient. I simultaneously stare out the floor-to-ceiling window on the second floor, and watch myself from everywhere else, both inside the building and out. The building is white on the outside and shaped in a very angular cuboid way. The second floor is smaller than the first, giving the building a stair shape. This building is situated in the middle of a vineyard. And by the middle, I mean literally the middle. The vines grow right up to the walls of the building. There is no evidence that there should be a building here. There is no road to it, not even a door. It is entirely wall and window.
I am halfway down a matte white stairway. In front of me, and a bit to the left, stands a very tall being of some type, so tall that I only ever see it up to the elbows, never looking at the face. Its proportions are off, like it has been stretched from a normal human into a being 50 feet tall. But not in an alien, creepy way. The right wall borders the staircase and is the same matte white as it. At the bottom of the staircase there is an arch on the right wall leading into another room. There is no left wall or ceiling, only a white mist that creates the distinct sense of a barrier, but without any rigid line of impassibility. There is no back wall; the room extends indefinitely. The being here with me walks through the arch and I follow it into the next room. I find myself with the arch I just came through on my left, the same wall extending towards infinity, and the same mist as before on my right. In front of me there is a floating geometric shape that fluctuates rapidly in terms of both form and color, but generally leaves the impression of a red teardrop diamond, perhaps ten to twelve feet in height and half that in width. I get the sense that the being created this object as a sort of abstract art piece, and that it wished to show it to me, even though it knew that I could never truly understand what it signified. I have come to refer to this place as ďthe art room.Ē The entity in this room is the only entity I have encountered more than once - I replayed this exact same scenario about a month later in a trip on 50mg of 4-HO-DPT, 28mg of 4-AcO-DMT, and 10mg of 4-HO-MET.
I replayed this exact same scenario about a month later in a trip on 50mg of 4-HO-DPT, 28mg of 4-AcO-DMT, and 10mg of 4-HO-MET.
This is interesting to me; I have encountered the exact same entity twice, only when this one drug was involved.
A field of rolling, shallow hills, covered in long, soft, emerald green grass and surrounded by blossoming cherry trees. The air is slightly sweet. Life is very peaceful.
I am on one of those rides that consists of 20 chairs horizontally in a row, attached to an apparatus that moves in a large circle, keeping the chairs the right way up. It is the day after my parents told us they were getting divorced, and my dad had taken us to the county fair. I could see him from my chair, with a cryptic, slightly melancholy look on his face. This is a real memory that I often come back to.
A concrete structure that I perceive as being in the process of decaying. It is very dreary, and the sky above is overcast. The ground outside the building has no grass whatsoever, no life. Only stone and dark, dead dirt. The whole place has a post-apocalyptic vibe to it.
I am in a vast, empty, white space. There is nothing but me and - maybe - the music I am listening to here. It seems like time does not pass.
That is all I can remember. This is one of the most psychologically interesting experiences I have ever had, and, writing this 1.5 years later, I am still in awe of it. It seems many people get little to no effect from this drug, but this is clearly not the case for me. There's something interesting here.
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