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The Groping of the Octopus
Citation:   D X Meth-Head. "The Groping of the Octopus: An Experience with DPT (exp116610)". Jan 23, 2023.

30 mg insufflated DPT
T+0: Acrid, abrasive burning. The alkaloid desolation burns my throat so harshly that I spit blood that same evening.

T+5-10 minutes: A calm stonedness and sedation, alien presences gather around me, ready to begin palpating through my anus and brain, preparing to molest my mind. Energy convects into my pineal chakra, vibrating in a sinuous, geometric hum. The carpet begins to look schizophrenic.

T+17 minutes: I realise I have insufflated a hyper-dimensional alien ectoplasm that is meandering into the labyrinth of my nostrils, now dissolving through my mucous membranes, into the bloodstream, palpating its way through the gyri of my encephalon, and finally scratching the marrow of my Mind...It feels as though my throat is ravaged by salty ulcers.

The invisible nothingness behind my eyes was the looming tentacle of an octopus. My CNS was hijacked from the inside-out. DPT, the tryptamine treat, has invaded me from my very core, my emotional fibre, pillaged itself into the question mark of my mind. I am stoned by the grace of Cthulhu. The extremities of my body are numb, the octopus has secreted a numbing mucous into my bloodstream. I pray it does not invade my heart rate has certainly increased, but not uncomfortably so.

Maybe my Soul had been invaded by my central nervous system. My body was no longer mine; who was the invader? My body invading the Soul, or the Soul invading the body?

I am unsure of my bodily whereabouts. The ominous presence that I am inhabited by a foreign entity is unsettling and strange...but I relish in the weird and surrender to the mighty octopus.

T+30 minutes: Lush ecstasy takes hold, and I writhe in a contortion of Scientific bliss, crying with laughter. I think about the psychopharmacology of the Self, the biochemistry of emotion, the chemistry of consciousness. It makes total sense why people would believe that DPT is the eucharist, the flesh of the Lord - I would love to take this at a higher dose in an empty cathedral, to undergo ecstatic theosis.

The mystery of the 'I' is pounding my internal monologue, that we all exist in a Strange Loop, everything is self-referential, that the world is an infinite series of mirrors. We exist in the screaming abyss of the infinite reflection of a spherical mirror! I scream in hysterical laughter. I stared at the abyss, and the abyss laughed. The gene stream is octopine/octopusine (?), stretching its serpentine genetic legs through Time, whose mucosal secretions, its genomic expression, is the very substance of History...

I feel hysterical. I cannot stop writhing in epileptic contortions, psychedelic juices soak into the fibrils of my loins. DPT is the Ancient of Days, held within its very indolic roots is the spirit of the Lord. There is a feeling of having unearthed something ancient, timeless, that has been hibernating until the very moment DPT touched my nervous system. The octopus that had slept in the crevices of Man's cerebrum for millenia finally opened its Eye. The octopus was behind my eyes this whole time, for my whole Life - an eternal parasite...Lovecraft tried to tap into the same feeling with the Cthulhu mythos. I am sorry Michaelangelo, but Lovecraft was right. God is not a white Man, He is an octopus who sits at the very edge of the Universe's vibration, regulating the Reach of the Universe in a tentacular hug...

T+40 minutes: Enough octopus. I start to talk to my good friend who was been trip-sitting me this whole time whilst I screamed away about octopi. I feel emotionally unconstrained, unfiltered. I see the emotional core of his face. He reminds me of both an otter and a bear. A warm-honey emotional inside, who holds hands and hugs friends and family in joyous love; and an ursine outer shell, who stands up for what he believes in with full force of passion. I feel a deep Love. He is a good Man.

He then proceeds to tell the funniest joke I have ever heard in my entire Life. The laughter sprouts from the very marrow of my bones,


T+ 1-1.5 hour: The sharpness of thought of the initial phase has now slipped away, visuals recede, although the intrinsic geometry to perception is certainly more clear than in a sober state of mind. I feel refreshed and accomplished (I have now tried every symmetrically dialkylated base tryptamine, bar the various dibutyls). I am stoned, relaxed, sleepy, as though I had just completed vigorous exercise. We end the day watching videos about mathematical history, and walk home.

I do not get to sleep until 6 hours after ingestion.

DPT: its alien splendour, its groping tentacles, Godly essence. To all clandestine chemists out there: MAKE MORE DPT! Explore the alien consciousness of DPT, go diving whilst under its influence and communicate with the octopi, they will totally get your drift. A philosophical/Scientific-idea-generating molecule of Biblical proportions. I could re-write the Book of Genesis at a higher dose, or write a new apocryphal text from scratch. This would emblazen religious fanaticism within me at a higher dose. I am not religious in the conventional sense, but I am fanatic and pious in my daily Life. The influence of DPT upon my mind was one of transcendental radiance, the feeling of something that is outside of my perceptory boundaries, the Other, something whose language I can never comprehend for the human sensory apparatus is too limited (see Ted Chiang's sci-fi novels for octopus language musings).

To this day (2 days later), I cannot remove the image that the nothingness behind my eyes is the groping tentacle of the Octopus. I am now significantly more interested in evolutionary biology than I was prior to the experience. The tentacles of the gene stream palpate my Soul every day...

(Regarding the word octopine: I am not referring to the arginine/alanine derivative. I mean 'of, or relating to, the octopus').

Exp Year: 2022ExpID: 116610
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: 20
Published: Jan 23, 2023Views: 300
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