DOSE:

340 mg

oral

DXM

BODY WEIGHT:

60 kg

I took the stuff because I had nothing better to do. I took it so that my stash would be empty, because I think it's a bad idea to keep drugs around. I took it because I had been awake for 30 hours, and I wanted to stay awake even longer. I took it for no good reason, and I took all of it.

I went to buy sandwiches. As I came up I thought to myself, 'wow, the world looks even more beautiful when it's chopped up into little pieces.'

I ate my sandwich in the park. I smelled it, felt it, heard it, and saw it, but I did not taste it. It felt like a very philosophical sandwich. Not food, but a bunch of cut-up plants and animals that I was bizarrely shoving into my plant-and-animal-shoving-orifice.

I went home and decided to take a shower. It felt like a very philosophical shower. Every step drawn out, carefully considered, having some metaphorical significance to the rest of my life. I felt very accomplished when I drunkenly stumbled out, having successfully completed the ritual of hygiene.

Upon stepping out of the shower, I felt that something important was going on in my stomach. I could hear the cut-up plants and animals getting restless. They were rebellious. They were staging their own little French Revolution. I vomited, and it felt very philosophical.

I contemplated the various philosophical ramifications of stumbling towards my room. After pondering the dilemma for a long instant, I did so.

I fell onto the bed, a pathetic shell of a human being. A naked little fleshy monster, helpless and stupid.

I was run over by a freight train of metaphor. Every individual, event, and object in my life was mashed together into a twisted, evil, philosophical battering ram, and it slammed into me full force. There was no logic, no storyline, no purpose to my thoughts: they were just a disjointed series of snapshots of despair.

The same thing happened in a million different ways. The faces and names changed, but the character of the experience was the same. This twisted dream sequence was punctuated by a recurring event: me sitting up and looking at the clock.

The clock moved sadistically slowly. After what felt like an eternity, I would sit up, look at it, and see that it had only been a minute. Maybe two. Then I would be slammed back down onto the bed by nausea and hopelessness, and the cycle would begin again. It felt like I was caught in a movie, and someone kept rewinding it.

Words cannot describe the evil I felt in the room during this time. It was probably only around 20 minutes, but it felt like it could have been any length of time that you would care to name. All I wanted to do was to go to sleep.

Mercifully, I finally went to sleep. I remember nothing of this sleep, but I suspect it was very disturbed. I woke up after a few hours and the evil was gone, though the world was (and still is) chopped up into pieces.

I crave sobriety. Lucidity. Normality. Mundanity. And I think that I will have plenty of all of that in the weeks to come.

Exp Year: 2009	ExpID: 77527
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Mar 2, 2026	Views: Not Supported
[ View PDF (to print) ] [ View LaTeX (for geeks) ] [ Swap Dark/Light ]
DXM (22), Sleep Deprivation (140) : Difficult Experiences (5), Bad Trips (6), Various (28)