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My Life: The Musical
2C-E, MDMA (Ecstasy) & Alcohol
by Samsa
Citation:   Samsa. "My Life: The Musical: An Experience with 2C-E, MDMA (Ecstasy) & Alcohol (exp77404)". Erowid.org. Jan 16, 2010. erowid.org/exp/77404

 
DOSE:
25 mg oral 2C-E (capsule)
  1 tablet oral MDMA (pill / tablet)
    oral Alcohol - Beer/Wine (liquid)

BODY WEIGHT: 140 lb


I had always been interested in mescaline. Beyond it containing a very interesting chemical makeup, it was taken by some of my favorite visionary minds including Huxley, Crowley and Morrison. Naturally I jumped at the first excuse to sample a direct analouge to mescaline, 2C-E, also known as Eclipse.

I ordered the research chemical from my supplier by express mail. Two weeks later I received a thin envelope marked express on it. The return address was clearly foreign and faux. Inside, between three blank pieces of white paper, was a dime bag full of a fine powder and a sticker on it that read: 2,5-dimethoxy-4-ethylphenethylamine. Not for human consumption. I laughed at the illusion of a legitimate business that operated on such a sketchy level. Weighing the capsules of powder was a little tricky since an active dose is so low. I ended up making 10 doses at 25mg, or as close as I could accurately get to that dose. Realizing this was well above the recommended dose, I wanted myself and my friends, who with I intended to indulge, to get the most out of this psychedelic.

I made some calls to rally the troops for our adventure today, which had been planned for the last few weeks, however, if there is one thing my friends are known for, besides debauchery, it is the innate ability to fail at sticking to a schedule. My original plan to trip at a friend’s vacant house fell through when he decided at the last minute he had other priorities to attend to, and he was sick on top of that, and there were probably an abundance of other excuses he tried to push on me as well before I immediately lost interest. Never the less, I always have a plan B. In the end, a majority of people who wanted to trip couldn’t, and it was only going to be me and my fellow general Annabel to do the deed. Our mutual companion Alex was going to babysit the two of us and declined on the festivities for the day, being particularly hungover from some ecstasy the night before. The three of us traveled to Mark’s house, who was going to be our driver for the day.

As we set out for the beach, the destination of my plan B, Annabel and I downed our caps of Eclipse. The stereo in Mark’s car wouldn’t hook up to an MP3 player, and music being a vital part of the experience, I put on my headphones and cycles through my personal selection of tunes on my PSP. My MP3 player having been stolen by a co-worker last year, I was left with a mere 4GB of music on my PSP’s memory stick to choose from, however I seamlessly switched to games when songs weren’t engaging enough.

Half way there and Alex, whom I am in the backseat with, taps me on the shoulder. I pull off my headphones and he presses a few questions about 2C-E on me. Content with my answers, he asked me for a dose. Of course, I obliged. What I immediately realize is that Alex is no longer a candidate for our babysitter, and instead we have just placed out lives in the hands of Mark. Mark, I had never really been sure what was on his agenda. Again, I am reminded of our inevitable failure at sticking to a schedule.

By the time we near the beach it has been over twice the time I was told Eclipse takes to come on. At this point and I am getting a bit nervous. Did I get ripped off? Did I dose it wrong? I am considering taking another dose by the time we park, but as I get out of the car and start to move around I notice my slightly impaired motor functions. The world seems slightly askew. A buzzing confusion, the likes of which I have never felt in my entire extensive “Chemical Research” career, persists. The effects are incomprehensive and vague. I realize I am not the only one feeling a bit off when I hear Annabel ask, “So, is this going to do anything other then make me feel slightly dissociated?”

We set up camp at the beach. Alex and I go check out the water, which is numbingly cold. For awhile we try to get used to it. I noticed translucent spectral colors in the water that shouldn’t be there but decide to keep this to myself. In the end the ocean’s temperatures bested me and I returned to our camp. Putting on my headphones and sunglasses, I laid down on a towel in the warm sun. My first thought was to listen to an album I was supposed to write a review for in the coming days, which I was looking forward to doing under the effects of Eclipse. A few seconds in and I had to change it. This was no time to be analytical, I thought, I just want to enjoy myself. I put on some relaxing Led Zeppelin and drifted away. Swirling closed eyed visuals ensued. The songs seemed a bit more drawn out then I realized they were, which I just chocked up to acute side effect from Eclipse being time dilation. In any case, the music was most enjoyable. Very, very enjoyable. A little too enjoyable! I threw off my headphones and sat up at once.

“Music is too intense!” I proclaimed.

Annabel sat up beside me. “Yeah, you’re music is a little overpowering.”

So the four of us sat for a little while, in silence and unspoken conversations that never happened. Eventually I got the idea of building a sandcastle in my head but decided not to make an attempt when I realized I didn’t know the first thing about architecture using sand. Alex decided to get up and best me by building a sand volcano. Gazing at the beach was relaxing as I sat in contemplation of everything and nothing in particular. My thoughts raced at a mile a minute, looping and unraveling and intertwining, but not in the way they do on acid. 2C-E is a Phenethylamide, and as such it is a psychedelic stimulant, which was clearly evident to me at this point. What I didn’t expect from Eclipse was all of the euphoria that came with it. There were times I couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off of my face. It wasn’t a bodyload euphoria that I get with opiates though, heavens no, it was more of a simple content feeling. An unnatural contentness from an unnatural substance.

“Is it just me, or is reality too real?” I heard myself ask.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Headphones, back on. The visuals came back, only they were a bit more theatrical this time. I was immediately reminded of the scene in Beavis and Butthead Do America where Beavis munches on a cactus and remarks that, “It’s like a music video!” Eventually nausea starts to kick in, or something to that effect. A strange sensation in my gut I’m not accustomed to grows until I can stand it no longer. I decide hunger is the root of the problem, unable to remember the last time I ate, and set out for the Ruby’s at the pier on the horizon.

It’s only a short walk from our camp before I realize that this is a bad idea, myself now being in full trip. I explain my dilemma to my companions and the decision was made, by the parties on drugs, to drive to somewhere to eat. We gathered our stuff and reluctantly left the beach. As we began to drive I was alerted to what I thought was the real urgency of our situation. We were now tripping in public and unable to control ourselves. Or at least I was, Annabel and Alex seemed to be getting along just fine. In any case, the new goal was to get directly home, or at least someplace safe.

The ride back home was a sequence of elation, confusion and overall intense emotions with no purpose or direction. At one point I completely forgot where we were and what we were doing. I sifted through my collection of music, unable to find something appropriate to fit the mood. I found myself concentrating really hard on whatever song came on the radio, getting stuck in a specific thought pattern for each individual one. I was at a loss when the song ended, unable to remember my pre-song thought pattern. One thing I do remember was that commercial radio annoyed me to an immense degree. With my conviction in our babysitter waning, I broke down and asked him a question I’ve been pondering for months.

“Mark, what exactly is your agenda?”

“Well,” Came his selective response. “It’s atheist in nature, and… Hey, is that a Limousine over there! I wonder who is in there.”

Surely enough, there was a limousine directly to the right of us. I, too, couldn’t help myself from wondering who was inside that limo. All flashy and tinted, they must think they’re better then us! Suddenly Mark’s agenda didn’t concern me so much.

Phase two of plan B included meeting up with our other friend, Cabildo, and going to a show in LA where we would bask in the sound system set-up they had there. We eventually met him at Archibald’s, where I finally got my food. As it turns out, I didn’t have much of an appetite after all. Social chaos and a persistent uncertainty were in full swing. At least for me. Somehow we found ourselves at Alpha fountain, awaiting the arrival of the Secretary, who would drive us from town into LA. Either she was taking her sweet time in getting there, or time dilation was once again in full effect. Both of these possibilities seemed equally likely.

We sat at a table by the fountain while I debriefed Cabildo regarding the effects of Eclipse. I may have been either too conspicuous or too loud discussing the all too incriminating subject but I observed people at the surrounding tables beginning to stare while Cabildo inquired as to my level of coherency. I realized it was noticeably low. We adjourned back to the car to continue waiting. Through Alex’s continual reference to Resident Evil’s robed merchant The Stranger I couldn’t help but feel a little bit like him myself standing there with my backpack full of contraband and contraptions.

“Whadaya buyin’?” I would ask people.

“Whadaya sellin’?” They would respond in a mimicking fashion.

This running gag continued for quite awhile. I soon realized I may get into real trouble if mistaken for an actual drug dealer, as if walking around with a backpack at night wasn’t suspicious enough. Growing anxious from simply standing around, I suggested the idea of going on a mission to retrieve some smokes. The closest cigarette vendor was a tiny gas station across the street. The cross walk was a slightly inconvenient stroll away so I decided a direct route through the very busy road would be the best course of action. Naturally, all agreed that this was a bad idea.

“You would be that guy on drugs who ran into traffic and got killed, thus establishing a ban on 2C-E.” Cabildo suggested. “Nevertheless, let’s do it.”

An overwhelming increase in confidence overtook me as I watched cross traffic pass between me and my destination on the other side. “Timing this shouldn’t be that hard.” I thought. “And if these drivers don’t want to hit a kid, they would move out of the way!” Sound logic, I convinced myself. As one set of cars passed and before another came Cabildo and I darted through traffic and safely onto the neighboring sidewalk. I once again felt the adrenaline rush that only comes with nearly escaping death. Purchasing my cigarettes, we went back the same way we came. There was no traffic this time, allowing us to walk at our own leisure across the street. Upon getting back to the car, I was unable to locate my lighter, rendering my newly acquire cigarettes useless.

The Secretary had since then arrived and we now went to greet her at the fountain. We tagged out Mark and transferred our stuff into the Secretary’s car. A short stop at Annabel’s house to change from beach clothes to playa clothes and we were on the road to LA. Alex meanwhile made a wardrobe change in the car, making all of us packed in the back seat very uncomfortable. I decided to go dressed as I was, finding it difficult to not look good regardless of whether I was at the beach or in a club. By now the effects of Eclipse weren’t so noticeable. There was no question that I was still experiencing an afterglow, but the world made a lot more sense then it did several hours ago. Cabildo and the Secretary had dropped a pill of ecstasy each during the drive. I was still feeling a little eccentric, so in an effort to sober myself up a bit and to again reach a plus one state of mind, I also popped one ecstasy from my own supply. Annabel followed suit, while Alex decided he would rather ride out his Eclipse trip to the very end.

The music during this drive was again very overwhelming. With a working car stereo, we were all listening to the same thing and therefore all on the same page. Cabildo, riding shotgun, put on some bassline trance that I was unfamiliar with. Once again the music ensnared my pattern of thought. Closing my eyes brought back the same visuals from the beach, although not nearly as vivid. The electronic music was so intricate it almost seemed like it had its own modus operandi. I was under the impression it may have kick started my ecstasy because at one point the music took on a very sexual nature. This occurred as strange to me, since generally under the effects of drugs, and psychedelics especially, sexual appetite was suppressed. Nevertheless, I enjoyed my secret intimate romp with the next few songs until we parked and this abruptly ended when all of us had to immediately leave the car so Alex could change out of his swimsuit.

As we parked and before we set out to find this building on foot I was still yearning to take part in some nitrous I had brought along. I was incapable during the drive, not being able to muster the mechanical skills to rig up a cartridge in the cramped back seat. I somehow fashioned the idea in my head that it would be a good idea to do it wherever it was we were going, however, realizing I was not in a sober mind set, I crosschecked this with my inebriated companions.

“Should I bring… bag full of drugs?” I asked, motioning to my backpack in the car.

Puzzled looks were exchanged all around. It was finally Annabel who spoke up. “What? No. It’s not socially acceptable to bring a bag full of drugs. In fact I can’t think of any situation where bringing a bag full of drugs is an okay thing to do.”

I have always enjoyed late night walks through downtown LA, especially when sobriety is nowhere to be found. There was a clash of well dressed club goers and the shambled homeless on the same street we found ourselves on. A general sense of buzzing dissociation set in, likely as a combined result of the Eclipse afterglow and ecstasy. I had thought it was merely my perception of the world that was altered and not my interactions with it. I later found out that this was proved wrong when two kids passed us on the street and one was overheard remarking to the other, “Watch out, man, UFOs.” in reference to our group. I found this hilarious.

We walked passed the venue a few times before we realized where it was. If its designers aim was to conceal this place, they did a pretty good job. We entered through a series of glass doors and doormen and into the lobby. For a moment it was like we had entered a time machine to the gaudiest part of the 30’s. The buildings grand elegance and ramshackle architecture produced a synergy I’ve never before laid eyes on. The place was bafflingly larger on the inside then it looked from the exterior. Several halls diverted in each direction, each heavily guarded by no less then two doormen. Crumbling columns were scattered across the lobby and stretched from the milky marble floor to the raised ceiling. A stylish spiral staircase sat in the far corner that looked like it would collapse on the next person who dared use it. My senses were overloaded.

What was more were the characters lurking around here; and make no mistake, they were indeed characters and they were indeed lurking. The doormen all fit into the gargantuan black bouncer cliché so well I could have sworn they were all born from the same petri dish. There was a middle aged woman talking one of them who was clad in enough fur I expected her to at any moment shout “Well I never!” 1988 Madona was there, if I’m not mistaken, selling her ass. A Hispanic Marbolo Man was leaning against the far corner wall, looking as shady as ever. As we made our way to the stairs we passed a much blacker, much kitschier version of SNL’s ladies man.

The spiral stairwell went both up and underground. While Cabildo and the Secretary went upstairs to find our destination, Alex Annabel and I went down hastily after eyeing the restroom sign with a downward pointing arrow. The men’s restroom was two or three stories underground and directly next door to, curiously enough, a laudrymat. Inside was a dilapidated excuse for a restroom. The stall doors were torn from there hinges, the mirror had long since been smashed, graffiti, and only one of the eight urinals worked. Basically your classic LA bathroom. I proceeded to a stall where I took the longest piss of my life. Relief, at last. I realized this was the first time I had peed since I initially took the Eclipse this afternoon and shared this fact to my friends who were waiting outside.

“Did you just dodge a major bladder infection?” Someone joked.

“Wow, I guess I did!”

The three of us proceeded all the way up the stairs to the very top floor where our other companions were waiting for us at the entrance to the venue. Again my effort to remain inconspicuous was challenged when the very first question I get asked by one of the doormen is “Have you had anything to drink tonight, sir?” I truthfully answer no, and doorman A turns to doorman B and remarks, “He says he hasn’t been drinking.” in a mocking tone. Their suspicions are absolved when I produce some cash.

Inside I find a nice column to perch against by the bar while I survey the area. Sophists, one and all. Free food is being served that I will not be taking advantage of. A man paints furiously in the corner and I am told there is a silent auction for his paintings. I suggest placing a bid under the identity of the dumpster out back in the name of humanity, an idea no one is thrilled with. Security buzzes past me a few times, looking very much out of place amongst the precocious twats that inhabit this place. I get one good “What the fuck ya’ll lookin’ at?” out, directed at no one in particular. Delusions of grandeur aside, I realize my friends and I are the coolest people here.

There is worn furniture strewn across the room. A booth in the middle of the room opened up, allowing my group to be the center of attention. The music here was rubbish. Some familiar songs twanged on and out, but the overall sound quality was poor and their setup was most unimpressive. Sitting there, I suddenly found myself in a very surreal situation. Watching everyone else attending this show meandering about and pretending to be interested in each other and their very awkward socializing was madness to me. I remember thinking, has a million years of evolution really led up to this? If so, I am most unimpressed.

“You know, we joked about it before coming here,” I heard Annabel say, “but this is the exact place where you would bring a bag full of drugs.”

Everyone was in agreement that a bag full of drugs would have been perfectly catered to this situation. Notably, though, everyone in agreement was on drugs. I eventually got it into my head that it would be a good idea to mingle. This only confirmed my assumptions that everyone else here was full of hot air. I had a few beers from the bar, a strange brand I had never before heard of, nonetheless enjoyed. Actually ordering a beer from the bartender proved difficult, but I’m pretty sure she was just a stupid person. Through all of this I realized that communication was jagged and ultimately difficult.

The night grew late just as everyone grew sober and therefore bored. Somehow the topic of the Hollywood sign came up and I suggested we go find it, having never seen it up close before. After a lot of driving with no real sense of direction we gave up and went home. I was pretty much at baseline and thoroughly exhausted while I sat in my bed flipping through the idiot box and casually texting at two in the morning. Sleep was not very far off from when I got home. Because of the social chaos we were in throughout my trip I feel I didn’t get to properly enjoy it as I originally intended, but there is no doubt that fun was had by all.

I learned a few things that day. I learned that being unobservant is awful and wholly not worthwhile. I found out that my inner self is a huge asshole. I learned that being deaf must really, really suck. Alright, so I didn’t actually learn anything I didn’t know already. In any case, I now consider this chemical researched and then some.

Exp Year: 2008ExpID: 77404
Gender: Male 
Age at time of experience: Not Given 
Published: Jan 16, 2010Views: 5,478
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2C-E (137) : First Times (2), General (1), Various (28)

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