Citation: Indelibleface. "Existence In a Giant Semi-Noncorporeal Pillow: An Experience with GBL (exp66865)". Erowid.org. Feb 28, 2008. erowid.org/exp/66865
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'Existence In A Giant, Semi-Noncorporeal Pillow'
'WTF you actually have some free GBL just laying around randomly?! You rule.'
It was just another rave night in early '07. It was simply one of those nights where I basically have just shit run out things to do. Me and my friend Z suddenly realized that it was indeed Friday, and there was, more than likely, a party going on that night somewhere in Los Angeles. We've learned in the past that Friday parties tend to be on the dull side, but after much internet searching, and a few phone calls, we found a good one to go to in Long Beach, CA, about an hour away from our current location at the time. With only an hour until the party started, we felt it best to make haste. We hopped in the car with some cash on hand and left.
I'd been raving for several years by that point. A lot of the original magic and novelty had left me -- that initial magical [fake] revelation that you're part of some powerful youth movement, something bigger than you. I had realized long before that night that raves were merely fantastic parties, not the resurrection of the hippies, clearly not something that will change the world. And, even so, I still had that beautiful feeling inside -- that 'rolling before you're rolling' excitement that always came over me before a rave. The anticipation and utter certainty that you will have maximum fun over the course of the evening. That, for some reason, has never left me, and it certainly was hitting me that night.
When we finally found the party, it turned out to be at a decently large bar in Long Beach fairly close to the ocean. Trance music was blaring out of the speakers, and I saw the familiar faces of the Los Angeles rave scene scattered about. I was home, albeit at a smallish venue, but it still was home nonetheless. Raves, however much I hate to admit it (considering my twisted, jaded self) felt as comfortable as being at home. I get the same feeling that I do when I visit San Francisco. It's not literally my home, but I just feel safe there. Protected there. Loved there. That's how raves are to me, even now after having been a part of the scene for years and having seen both the positive and shady aspects of it all.
Me and Z found a source for some pills, and we both indulged. While rolling, I'll admit that the size of the venue was a little claustrophobic, and not particularly conducive to the ecstasy experience, but it was fun conversing and hanging out with friends (with the bar atmosphere, it all felt a bit like home rolling, or at the very least rolling at a social gathering, like a coffee shop, which now, come to think of it, was actually a pretty unique and fun situation -- okay, I admit, it was a great time!) We each had one pill all night, and had just a quality evening, not as crazy as I expected, but easily worth our time. When the party ended (prematurely, of course) me and Z asked around to see if there was some kind of after party going on, since, although we were no longer rolling by that point, we weren't ready to crash and had some residual energy left over. A couple people responded and we were given directions and an address. We hopped into the car and left.
Upon arrival, there were at least twenty there crammed into a particularly spacious three bedroom apartment. Me and Z took a rest on the couch while someone started music. Most of these folk weren't your typical raver types. I've been to many cracked out after parties full of really messed-up people -- you know what I'm referring to, the wayward youths hellbent on imbibing as many drugs as their frail young bodies will take, all the while covered in incredibly silly colored beads (an image completely belying their chemical habits) and cutesy pink Hello Kitty pajamas covered in dirt. This thankfully was not one of those parties! These all seemed like college types -- the majority of the attendees were actually USC math students, and went to the same math club, or something. So it completely weirded me out when someone loudly asked, 'Who wants to try some GBL?'
Now, there's a drug I've always wanted to try but couldn't, because of its current reality status as virtually nonexistent, especially in Southern California. I stepped up to the offer, exclaiming that I was, indeed, a drug nerd, a Bluelighter, and had a definite need to try the drug in the interest of science. It was contained in a shady looking white container labeled 'Video Head Cleaner' or 'Xerox Machine Part Cleaner' or something silly like that. The cap, when opened, doubled as a measuring pipette (this was so illegal, in so many ways, I loved it!) I was told that 1ml would be good dose to start with, 2ml would probably make me pass out, and 3ml would probably kill me. Hooray! So the girl measured out 1ml for me. I asked if I should mix it with something, and she told me that it wasn't worth it, and I might as well just get it squeezed into my mouth. I decided to at least chase it with something, considering the reputation it has as a notoriously terrible tasting substance. I grabbed a can of Cherry Coke and had the GBL fired into my mouth.
Now, when I was told it would taste bad, I imagined all the bad things I've tasted in the past. I've tasted Bacardi 151, and that tasted pretty bad. I've tasted rotten meat, and that was pretty terrible. I've melted pills of ecstasy on my tongue, and that was awful. I've tasted straight mCPP, and that tasted like chemical warfare on my tongue.
Absolutely none of these things could have prepared me for the inferno that was sprayed into my mouth that night. It tasted what I imagine gasoline to taste like. Actually, that's being conservative -- it tasted what I imagine molten lava to taste like. Or, maybe gasoline poured on molten lava. Basically, it felt like there was no actual definitive taste for GBL -- the taste was apparently so bizarre and otherworldly, that my taste buds completely went up in flames and short circuited. This was clearly not a taste meant for my human, mortal tongue. In other words, it burnt like a fucking lump of coal in my mouth.
I let out a 'blegh' and proceeded to chase with my can of soda, which did absolute jack shit for the taste, which had already permanently scorched itself into my palate. Even after finishing the whole can of soda, it was still there, lingering. I went into the other room and sat down, trying to somehow get rid of the taste by drinking milk, water, anything I could find.
After about fifteen minutes of sitting down, I felt a strange high come over me. It was definitely different than anything I've had before. It vaguely resembled being drunk, but without nausea or the dirty 'drunk' feeling that I tend to get. It was almost like a good, euphoric benzo (which would make sense, considering the GABA action), but dare I say more euphoric and happy-inducing. I loved walking around the apartment completely G-ed out. It felt like the entire world was a giant, semi-noncorporeal pillow that slowed down my movements and made everything feel comfortable, like I was sitting in a big stuffed bean bag, except while standing and moving around. Combined with the residual stimulation of the ecstasy, it felt very wonderful, almost as if I had come up again.
After a little while longer, about an hour or so, it started to fade away (the damn taste was still there!) so I felt it necessary to have another 0.5ml. And, ew, there was that taste again. But, soon after, bam! I was wonderfully high and floaty again. It made an excellent end cap to the evening. It was wonderfully relaxing, and it smoothed out the E comedown very nicely. We all had a grand time just completely sprawled out on the floor with blankets, bean bags, and pillows, listening to music and chatting. After another couple hours, it all wore off and we were just merely tired (but still relaxed), and me and Z decided to head home. Sleep was, oddly enough, difficult, even though I felt sleepy.
For the entire next day, my tongue ached like I had eaten scalding hot food... :|
Oh well, it was worth it!
I would love to try GBL again, especially while peaking with MDMA. I hear the combination is incredibly euphoric. I probably will have a shit time trying to actually find this substance again, but if I do I will definitely be open to the experience. The taste is definitely a turn off, but in the end, it's not nearly as bad as I described it (although I'll probably be eating those words when I try it again, probably in an attempt to cover up the god awful taste).
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