Citation: Mehblah. "A Rocky Start to a Beautiful Finish: An Experience with 2C-T-7 (exp83968)". Erowid.org. Jun 8, 2010. erowid.org/exp/83968
||(powder / crystals)
The morning began when my parents left for their six hour drive to another city. I think to myself “hey, I have a weekend to do whatever the hell I want, lets start at 8am on a friday with some 2CT7!”
at around 8:30am I poured 25mg of 2C-T-7 into about 6oz of iced tea I had mixed earlier. I chugged the mixture (after stirring it of course), hit “start” on the stopwatch and began to prepare for what I thought would be one hell of a train ride. I had no idea what I was in for.
Immediately I was noticing the effects of it. I had done this drug twice before (5mg and 10mg trials, both good), both in the best conditions possible. This run-in was ass-backwards, and because it was thrown together in such haste is the reason it went to shit.
The biggest thing I did wrong when I took this was eat my breakfast before hand (I would say about 10 minutes before ingestion of the drug). I became nauseous very quickly and sat in front my toilet swearing at it for what seemed like an eternity (what was actually about 15 minutes). Nothing happened. So I got up, played some GTA IV when the nausea hit me hard. I ran into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of my face (mentally noting I was physically stable) and vomited extremely forcefully. So forceful, actually, that I burst blood vessels in my face, specifically around my eyes—but more to my right eye.
In a stoned fury of panic and disarray I look at myself in the mirror thinking “oh shit. You've done it now. After all these bad trip reports of people dying, and now you've gone ahead and followed in their tracks.” Yet still I refused to call an ambulance and, in retrospect, am extremely happy that I did not. Right after throwing up and looking at my face swelling up like a motherfucker, I ran to my computer to diagnose via the internet (not the smartest or a good way to diagnose at all, but it's better to have some consolation rather than freaking out about something that won't exacerbate). To my half-relief the swelling was because of the vomiting, but I still was not fully content. I decided a trip to the hospital would be necessary—but I can't give them any idea I took this drug purposefully or have them pick me up from my house, what would people think of me?
At this point I set up my image to look as the poor soul who had something put in his drink the night before, and off on the bus I went.
(Note: the mental clarity, although being assaulted with visuals almost to the point of blindness ((yes, they were that intense)) was actually impressive. I was able to keep myself at a relatively calm level to operate on the task at hand. I must admit though, it was extremely easy for my thoughts to wander ((and I would freak out for a second because of the visuals, but I would calm myself right after)), about maybe, nanotechnology. Holy fuck, NANOTECHNOLOGY. FUCKING NANOTECHNOLOGY.)
After a 25 minute bus ride with the effects of the drug only increasing in intensity, I actually forgot why I was on the bus for a second. Then I remembered “Oh shit, I'm going to the hospital! But I think I can actually handle it now...yes, I am going home now.” Which means I got right back on that 25 minute bus ride right home. While thinking about nanotechnology. God damn. Nanotechnology.
I get back home and come inside, yelling in satisfaction of successfully riding in a 50 minute bus ride of hell, I made it back home. Oddly enough, as I've often tried to do with other drugs before (but my will had deteriorated well into the first sentence) I just wanted to write. To just type and type and type. Don't stop typing. Maybe scribe something up about “being the one” who is the one who breaks free from the set. He breaks set. He is the one that people look up to, because he is the one that sets the example.
I really, really, REALLY wanted to expand with this thought, but the visuals were becoming so intense that I could barely focus on my computer screen. I got about one sentence in, and it read: “Humans love triplets, or “tri-”s of anything. Most enjoyed when turned inward.” Which got me to thinking, hey, most of the things in my room are triplet-oriented. I have two computers operating three screens. I have rolls of camera film arranged in a triplet. That got me thinking to a design for lamps, when I looked at my lamps and it has a triplet design! This is the damnedest drug. I have drinking glasses in triplets on either side of the laptop (which is in the middle) and the singular one (the “arrow” pointing the direction of the triplet) pointing inward. And by inward, I mean towards me. I am the in. I'm inward. Hi, nice to meet you.
After having the thrill of thinking (it was a damn thrill, let me tell you), I blasted my music on my TRIPLET setup of home speakers and danced my ass of to remixes of kid cudi, beach boys, and a mashup involving The Who. I don't have much to offer in writing of it, because you can't write dancing and living and experience. You can only dance, live, or, heh, experience it. Or read about nanotechnology. Holy shit, fucking nanotechnology. Blows my mind.
I had been periodically checking up on myself (namely my face) once I got home. I reiterate from earlier, it was a good move to not go to the hospital, for they would have probably put me under some other drug so I wouldn't be a panicking mess in their ER. When I got home the trip intensified extremely, but it was most definitely manageable, so long as I stayed inside. I went into the shower and experienced some Avatar-like things. I thought so abstract about someone (metaphor for perhaps, the government?) always trying to contain a man. Either nature contains man with its vast nothingness (the complete natural universe), so he ventures everywhere and finds nothing, or the man is trapped in a prison cell (the complete modernized world) with nothing beyond the walls but nothingness. And, as if the creators of the cell were to poke fun at the universe for existing, they even put a plant in the cell. Cocky bastards.
Fast forward 6 hours of having a lot of fun, a guy phones me to meet up. I had never really caught a glance at him when I first gave him my number, and he looked like a pretty clean guy. Now when I saw him I saw exactly what I do not want to turn myself into with drugs. He was 17, his girlfriend was 16, yet they both looked like they were in their late 20's. Not good. Stay away from coke and meth.
Got home, laid in bed for a bit, when my mind wanders to a sex partner I once had. It was the damnedest thing, I could visualize our embraces, I could feel the tactile sensation of the embraces, and I could most definitely hear her embraces. Made me text her to experience it again. Aw, no. Number doesn't exist anymore. Damn. Next time.
At this point, about 9 hours into the trip, I finish writing this. After a rocky start and a bus ride through hell, it turned out to be one of the greatest trips I've ever tripped. It wasn't as earthly connected as one might put mushrooms with, but you just absolutely cannot compare one psychedelic with another. This was definitely one hell of a fucking trip.
And god damn. Nanotechnology.
Afternote: This is the criteria I lay forth for anyone (who diagnoses themselves to be like me) to follow when taking 2CT7:
-Have no food in your stomach before hand
-Build your doses slowly and don't jump the mark. (I did 5mg, then 10mg, then 25mg. Bad move, read above ((lol)))
-Have a sitter present
-HAVE A SITTER PRESENT
-Did I mention to have a sitter present?
Happy tripping boys and girls, and please, keep the food out of your stomach beforehand.
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