Citation: SFMartha. "Seeking Normality: An Experience with LSD, Cannabis & Alcohol (exp86291)". Erowid.org. Jan 5, 2014. erowid.org/exp/86291
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I hardly dabble in anything other than the daily smoking of weed and weekend drinking. So when my friend E tells me he knows someone with quite a bit of LSD to sell, I get immediately excited but wary at another go-round of purchasing and tripping. Having wasted two days on bunk acid in the past, I was ready for a clear picture of what acid was even like. I was never impressed by my two previous trips with only mild effects from the blotters and gel tabs I tried. Comparable to my separate glowing experiences on mushrooms, weed, ecstasy and peyote, acid was not memorable. Regardless of my reluctance to try out Lucy again, I decide to purchase 15 hits of it from E's friend. Apparently marketed at 125 micrograms a blotter, this stuff looked far more legitimate than the blue blobs and discolored papers I ingested in the past. A design of the Hindu goddess Lakshmi was repeated on the delicate perforated paper, with an overlay of psychedelic colors. I was indeed impressed and very excited to have a proper meeting in the next few days with the Lady.
I originally planned to trip on my own on 2 hits. I was impatient to wait for my usual tripping partner, D, to find a day in her schedule to trip. Being my roommate, best friend, and partner in crime for many years, D is always with me and quite rarely are we apart around friends. This summer in the Midwest was proving to be a psychological challenge for myself with family issues and general college/future of my life stress. I felt that a trip by myself might be a good idea to help solve some issues and think deeper on things I never could ponder in a sober mind of guilt and anxiety. This idea soon was improved on by the surprising request of my friend S to join me on my trip. S was also a weed connoisseur and occasional experimenter with mushrooms although never with acid. He explained to me his claimed sensitivity to psychedelics, such as his intense trips on mushrooms. Because of this, S wished to only get a feel for the acid, requesting half of a blotter hit when the time came. I agreed that a trip with him would be great for the next day, with a forecast of beautiful weather. S is very much a brother to me and I felt almost as comfortable with him as D by this point in our friendship. I liked the idea of tripping with a logical, grounded person that had the ability to take care of me if the trip was to go badly. I have always appreciated the complement of S's methods of thinking through situations and being calm in situations where my eccentric, flighty mind freaks out. I was ready to trip.
S arrived at my apartment at around 12:15 on a fine Saturday. Because of the somewhat secrecy needed of taking the acid because my drug-hating other roommate being in the apartment, we went to my room to talk over some of the things first. S had spent the night reading up on LSD and what to expect. I extensively had read online on a few separate occasions to get an idea as well and was ready for this trip to take on characteristics of Lucy, not weak trips. I had only eaten an orange and drank some cold tea that morning, in order to avoid the nausea I commonly get when dealing with any sort of psychedelic. We only dwelled in my room for about 2 minutes before I got out the tweezers to handle the paper. It was decided that S would take half, and I would take 1.5. The rough measurements on what E's dealer told me would equal that S was ingesting 65 micrograms and I was ingesting 190 micrograms. I had no point of reference to know what was standard for me so it seemed like a calm amount. I was really anxious that S wouldn't feel anything from his scrap of paper. We both sat in my freshly cleaned room and put the paper under our tongues. The placebo effect immediately rushed over my body and I felt an air of excitement for the irreversible adventures ahead. S agreed that a body buzz was felt within five minutes, but I assured myself it was only me getting my hopes up.
Claims of measured microgram dosages for LSD are usually unsupported. Quantitative measurements for LSD are very difficult to do and cannot be done casually. Without further detailed information about how the measurements were derived, it is reasonable to assume that most statements of microgram dosages of LSD on blotter or in microdots are either misinformed or overstated.]
I started to quickly gather my belongings for the day knowing we should soon depart from the apartment to avoid tripping around my roommate. I packed what I felt were essentials in my small satchel: phone, water, chap stick, gum, $20, iPod, bug spray and drug journal from years ago. S brought along a notebook and small video camera to document our journey on film. At 12:45, we set off for a stretch of forest I have frequented on other drug journeys and smoking sessions. It was a 15 minute walk to the magical forest, taking place along a busy stretch of road flowing out from my college campus. Although it was already humid and hot so early on in the day, I didn't mind it. S and I caught up on trivial things in our lives and began musing what the trip would bring. My mind was slightly pre-occupied with thoughts of D at her job and wishing she was enjoying the day with us.
At around 1:00 we made it to the entrance of the forest, behind a student dormitory. I am hardly what you would call an outdoorsy person but I do soberly love nature and appreciate it just as much as those that can go camping and love it. The magical forest was quite buggy on our initial entrance, so we both sprayed ourselves in a thick layer of repellent. I started to giggle at S and the gnats that kept flying into his long eyelashes. The path at the entrance had two choices, so I chose the one that would show S the awesome tree in the river I like to sit on when I smoke. I wasn't sure how long the forest would captivate S's interest in our acid haze to come since S is far more technologically amused and has really improved my life in the same way via exploring the internet and such. I was sure that we would get bored of the forest and venture home within 2 hours.
We walked deep into the forest, following the Green Birch River as the trail swerved next to it. We got to the tree and sat for a bit, talking and enjoying nature. I always seem to notice how the roots look like dinosaur bones halfway uncovered by the base of the tree. I got out my journal and started to doodle and jot down my thoughts. On that page I had written 'oh yes, the bark is smooth, dragonflies, if I wanted to I could snap out of it but something is so beautiful in my mind right now'. I doodled some geese and the tree, wondering why S didn't want to sit with me. I was definitely getting hit by the acid, feeling waves of delirious nausea and confusion. I knew how to control the urge to panic and tell S that it was all about to get crazy. It certainly was but for his first time I wanted him to identify when he felt his dose come on. I still had the ability to text and write.
Things chilled out for a second in my mind when we switched to talking about smoking green. It was the beginning of the trend of 'normalcy' as I will dub it. Talking about something so commonly referenced and done between S and I was very ordinary and normal, therefore I felt comforted. We decided to walk further and put on more bug spray. It felt like a beautiful little happy adventure for us with nothing to do the whole day or night. We approached a cross-section of trails with a setup of hopscotch using logs. It made me smile that something from a suburban playground could manifest itself in the wild if in demand. We looked across the forest canopy to see a black and brown squirrel chattering and fighting each other. It suddenly appeared to be the textbook case of race and ethnicity and how it translated from animals to humans. I felt the urge to explain to S my theory on how different colors of squirrels indicate different breeds, therefore they know to be scared and defensive of different genetic makeup than their own. However, since humans all contain the same genetic makeup, we should not be intimidated by others' different outer appearance. I thought of my Indian Race & Ethnicity class professor in the woods in her traditional dressings watching the squirrels interact.
The colors all around us by this time were beautiful. A forest of greenery and sunshine with hundreds of plants and animals seemed like a mind treat. Feelings of being in a dream and being stoned ruled my sensations. The vivid colors of dragonflies amused me as S began coming up, I think. Between 1:30 and 2:30ish we wandered and S had a great idea involving using the iPhone App that allows you to find hidden treasure called geocaching. S and I looked up for treasure in the area and were giddy to see that one was marked as very close to us in the woods. I began to explain my only time burying something as part of a self-treasure hunt in the future, which turned into an elaborate lie to avoid telling S it was a McDonald's toy in a jewelry box. It just seemed like such a trivial piece of childhood memory that I felt embarrassed to share with him, having never really thought of that memory since I was 8.
Well our hunt began for the geo. I was beyond excited to find something while on acid. Making do without GPS, we wandered up a new trail, trying to keep in mind where we came from to avoid acidy panics later. We decided to rest in the middle of a trail on a log, still admiring the vibrant canopy and little forest noises. S brought up a random memory from a party the previous weekend we both were at, involving me seeing an ex-boyfriend. As I started musing on how strange it was to see him, I started to think S was him trying to trick me into talking about himself. I was frazzled that I had weirdly associated that in my mind, and told S what happened. We both decided to keep on moving but standing up from the log opened up the full-on trip. I stared into S's face and saw how the flaps of skin hung on his jaw and cheek bones. The idea that his face was just nerves and flesh constructed so normally onto bones was silly to me. We are all just bones with animation.
As I was staring intently at his face, he beckoned for me to come along. That's when the tracers began to appear. I was ecstatic! Tracers were something I always read in trip stories yet never managed to achieve. His hand would move and I could see a smearing in the air of the hand colors. It was amazing and I was glad S could see the beginning of it too. We played around watching each other move and observing the crazy visuals of tracers. The whole scene was a euphoric melting pot of happiness to me and I began realizing the ludicrousness of the situation. We wandered deeper into the forest and I began giggling my asshole off. Nothing could stop the laughter; in fact everything seemed to appreciate the maniacal chuckle I was emitting. The bushes, trees, and stumps we passed were all in agreement I was right for laughing. I noticed S wasn't saying much so I assumed I was freaking him out with how strong my trip was getting. Thinking about how concerned I was in a time of utter mind control made me giggle harder. I didn't recognize my own laugh which in turn creeped me out which then caused me to laugh more over how insecure I was being around S.
S started to think out loud about the future of reality. We wondered if someday virtual reality could make us feel like we were us in that moment. We stood and stared at each other, realizing none of our feet atoms were touching Mother Nature's ground, or that when we touched arms they were not really touching since it was all force of collision. By this time we had given up on the geo and embraced the idea of a full day's trip ahead of us.
At 3:00 I texted my other dear friend SU to let him know I was an oxen deep in an acid trip. SU has been the knight to my drug crusades, introducing me to the world of mind-expanding drugs. I owe him a lot for the knowledge and safety he always brings to the drug table. The texting was difficult to say the least. S and I started walking different trails from the main 4-point cross road. We almost made it to the beginning, despite landmarks making little sense. Some animal-like symbols were spray painted on wooden markers and I accepted it as some form of woodsmen code. I somewhat knew what trails would take us where so I led S to a torn-down teepee frequented by weed smokers on campus. We sat at the site, looking around and cooling off. Putting the plastic of the water bottle up to my mouth felt strange and S agreed and began giggling over it. My mom called at some point, which I refused to answer. S was awful at directions, given his unfamiliarity with the forest and his new state of mind. I decided I knew the way home pretty surely; therefore we would go further into the forest, following Big River still. As we walked I felt a surge of pure light coming from within. I felt so clean and understood by my surroundings, including S. It was like something more beautiful than my desired soul was leading us, and I was ready to embrace it strongly.
The path began to widen and become more finely packed. We discussed how amazingly strong the Lucy was. S seemed to be really enjoying himself, which pleased me. I was terrified of S having an awful trip and being a damper on mine. We seemed to be tuned into each other well, only using minimal words to communicate and being open with each other about everything we thought of the trip. A tree marked a side of the pathway with 'LSD' carved into it, making me feel a little less special for choosing to do acid in the forest far after someone else obviously. S put down his water bottle since it was too much for him to carry and I grinned at the idea of him being a Russian version of Hansel and Gretel. We walked into a clearing with a bridge for a busy road overtop of us. It was so strange to just waltz out of a forest on acid into a tunnel under the bridge covered in shiny graffiti, then into a new strange world. The graffiti itself provided ridiculous visuals, reflecting its shiny coating into the river the flowed next to it.
The other side of the tunnel was unfamiliar at first to me. It appeared to be a beautiful park, complete with kids playing basketball and benches to rest on. S and I kept grinning and looking at each other with wide eyes, confused and pleased at where Mother Nature had dropped us. It was a new chapter in our trip where human interaction with people not on acid might become necessary. I was very cautious to not look at anyone other than S. We kept to ourselves on a slanted grassy hill, talking in small fragments and laying down in the shade. The levels of volume we were talking at were so hard to understand. I kept thinking we were drawing attention for talking so quietly but feared to talk any louder just in case I blurted out a trippy moment within earshot of an old person. It was maybe around 3:45 by this time.
I was beginning to feel so perplexed by the smallest things. I felt covered in sticky residue, didn't care about the bugs in my hair, and was overwhelmed again by peace and giggles. My mind shifted to a complex topic dealing with memories and dreams. I tried to examine how my own mind was working, whether I was conjuring up old playbacks of memories to invoke my thoughts or if pictures were used or even words. I was unsure if S was comprehending my ramblings and unsure of his state altogether. I realized then how different our relationship felt in those moments, that we were talking totally different than our usual hanging out chats. Our humor was totally different on acid together and I started feeling a really strong connection to S for being there on the grassy hill with me. I had never just laid bare in the grass and stared at someone for so long while talking, it was relaxing and great. We both seemed to be open to freely saying whatever was on our mind as we stared at the trippy clouds. I became extremely sad at how I never seemed to notice this natural kaleidoscope of beauty in nature before. I felt selfish for never looking so intently at nature as I do myself. I then got an overwhelming unpleasant feeling of being caged by clothing. Like every point in our journey, as soon as we became restless of the surroundings we followed Big River farther. We both noted that we couldn't feel our thirst or hunger, even after so long without food or water.
Only a few yards from our green mini-hill, we decided to take a break in the sun of a strip of land next to the sidewalk. It felt so out of place to be squatting in the middle of a grassy area where people could walk by. I soon recognized my surroundings as a part of campus I rarely ventured to. I was again shocked that we managed to walk from my apartment to this point on campus and more so that the trail led there. While sitting again, I realized we had been in our new chapter from 4:00-4:45. The kids playing basketball made us laugh at the idea of trying to play in our state. I started to look at my hands closely and imagine all of the things my hands have been through. Bracelets I made when I was 10 were made with the same hands I use now to break up weed. It was a really weird concept that left me wanting to look at S's hands and touch both of ours. I was hyper-aware of how special my body was to my brain, being the only one my brain ever can have. We soon got up from our spot to look into the river and see little mini-lobster crayfish. We both realized just how important it is to do something out of the ordinary with someone else to make it appear intentional and normal, like something as simple as sitting in the grass together.
I'm guessing at around 5:00 we decided music might be a fun idea. My iPod was dead upon inspection, killing my vision of leading each other around whiling listening to music, relying only on body language and pointing to communicate. S seemed to appreciate this idea instantly which reinforced my feelings of connection to him and nature. We wandered down a staircase to the underpass of another bridge although S was reluctant to go. Underneath it I screamed as a bird flew out from hiding, causing a major overload of echoing sounds. We came out on the other side of the road, next to a campus building I used to work in. It appeared so different and distant to me, and memories of my old boss began to flood my happy brain. I halted those thoughts to avoid anything bad happening and continued walking the path next to Big River with S. We needed water and I knew the perfect place to find such a thing. We walked toward a big lecture hall I was quite familiar with while passing a tree that looked like it was melting in the heat. The bark looked like the inside of a popcorn bag and I felt really bad for how hot it must be. Inside the lecture hall, we were overwhelmed by the air conditioning, yet automatically saddened by the lack of nature we had been submerged in for so many hours. We had deep realizations of how pathetic it was to have huge buildings stuck in the middle of a serene wilderness of sorts and that it was our reality of how much we disrespected nature and forced our living onto it. While inside, I decided to try to use the bathroom. It was just a weird situation to me but calmed by the normalcy of such a routine. Although the acid was in full force, I could still remember the basic routine of using the bathroom, washing my hands, and drying them. I knew it was normal so feeling in the moment awkward and unsure of my actions revealed to me just how much I was fucked by the acid. Looking in the mirror was also intense in a strange way, staring at my plain and contorted face. The flesh hanging on my cheekbones was startling and I couldn't understand how my eyes looked so different. They were huge saucers on my face, drawing me in for a closer examination, so wide like they didn't want to miss a single thing happening. They looked innocent and evil all at once and I decided to rejoin S before he got bored.
Standing around in W Hall, I could sense movements in the hallway that indicated people were present. I decided to tour S around the hall including a very large lecture room that could seat 600. We sat in the chairs in the back, looking out at the large classroom and giggling again at the ridiculousness of the situation and concept. I tried to remember the class I had taken in that room before but could hardly remember word-for-word anything the professor said. I had listened to him for countless hours and never once locked in my memory a distinct thing he always said or anything like that. I began trying to explain to S this thought I was having about the weirdness of my memory and asked him about the phone call he earlier had with his grandma. S speaks Russian with his family including his grandma who had called him when he got to my apartment. I love talking about language and how crazy of a concept it is, especially when it ties into memory. I questioned if S had stored the memory as pictures or if he remembered the exact Russian words for what she talked to him about, or if it was in English. It was a concept I could not figure out, especially for my own experiences of using only English.
Deep in conversation, we were startled by people coming in from outside the hall; we quickly got up and left the classroom, chattering nonsense phrases that I felt made us look suspicious. Talking became really frustrating and exhausting for me since I just barely could put into words what I felt from Lucy. I realized that the words I chose to say were reflecting to S what kind of person I was and from then on I told myself I would stop using such dirty language. We ventured up some stairs to a study nook on the second floor. When asked about classes I had taken in W Hall, I could hardly remember the past 2 years of my college education. I then realized how new everything was that day to S, from the forest to the buildings, since he was not a student on this campus. I admired him for being adventurous and trusting me to show him neat places. It was a great feeling to realize S had given me his full trust, and that both of us were okay and content with spending a full day with only each other, like a nomadic family of sorts.
After venturing back outside into our homeland, we found a map of campus. It was maybe 5:30 by now and I remembered another beautiful place to show S. We had to cross a bridge to get there with the noisy rapids interrupting my thoughts. I pondered with S what it would be like to be deaf or blind on acid. We tried plugging our ears and closing our eyes. That's when the gorgeous undiscovered world of patterned closed-eye visuals hit me. We walked across and to the place I wanted him to see, being a nice little opening where the river hits a small dam and creates rough rapids. Ducks were just content being around us as we looked into the river. By this time, D was off of work and texted me to come join us. D was with me the first few times we tried 'acid' and generally really loved it. I was reluctant at first to let in an outsider to our twisted logical acidic world but reassured myself that of all people D would be able to put my mind at ease. We waited for her arrival until 6:30. As she approached, I was confused at the beautiful apparition that she was in the sunshine, yet sensed that she was up to no good. I was intent on staring at her until I could figure out what it was that was so off in my best friend. She instantly told me what a creep I was being and that my eyes were scaring her. I became really nervous and giggly and really tense with the whole situation of her being present. Her hair was now blond and her body was really morphed and new to me. I swear I could see the evil in her eyes as she tried to barely understand our predicament. She walked too fast for our leisurely stroll, which explained how it took us 6 hours to walk from our apartment to the dam on campus, which usually might take an hour at the most. I kept trying to look at D and realize who she was to me and how much I loved her, yet something in my mind kept telling me she had bad intentions and was trying to steal S away from me. As soon as I got up the courage to voice these opinions, they seemed silly and I laughed about it. D asked if I could get her some weed for the night, to which it suddenly clicked that she was only with us for her own personal amusement and to use me for weed. I tried to hide how weirded out I was by her and the place in time we were. We sat on the edge of the grass with our feet in the water, trying to tell D about our day thus far. We were still far enough into our trip that it was beyond difficult to make rational sense. Later D told me that she felt like she was tripping balls in that moment with us because of the way we were talking and acting. As S and I sat there, we began only pointing to show each other cool things the water was doing. Dots of water led to magnificent ripples, which led to swirls of water until it smashed into the dam. S and I began to feel hot and sweaty, a good sign that the acid might be losing its power in our bodies.
At 7:00, D offered to drive us someplace else since she had her car parked not far away. The car ride was much needed as a change of pace and general resting for S and I. D drove us to a field outside of our town that had cows freely grazing in it. I realized the normalcy of us driving like that, since D always drives places while I ride in the passenger. But the normalcy of it was overshadowed with the intense feeling of D being a complete stranger. I could sense something was weird about either her aura or mine; obviously looking back it was my drug-induced mind feeling that. We parked a little ways up the road and walked to the cows, who happily greeted us thinking we came bearing food. Looking into their eyes, I wondered if the cows could even process emotions like us. The filth caked on the cows was a strange sight to see, since I immediately pondered what it would be like if humans and I defecated freely, didn't wear clothes, and only got excited if we were being fed. No one can really remember what it was like to be a baby and not be embarrassed to poop freely. We decided to leave the cows after much talking and feeding of them.
Our troupe headed back to S's place, stopping at a convenience store for drinks and snacks. I wasn’t necessarily hungry or thirsty, I just wanted to feel the sensations in my mouth and see if I could deal with being back in public. The trip inside seemed obvious, like everyone in the store could tell 2/3 of our party was tripping hard. The frozen drink I got was beautiful in its own way, since it was composed of delicate little ice pieces that I could definitely feel individually melting on my dry tongue. I didn't like my interaction with the cash register girl and was shocked that society has not switched over to totally automating everything. I thought of how novel it would be to walk into a convenience store and just ring yourself up and leave. We managed to buy everything we needed and left, getting safely back to our car vessel. The thrill of lying down in the back seat kept me entertained until arriving at S's humble abode.
Walking inside S's apartment, my mind started playing tricks again. I smelled the cows, even though we were nowhere near them again. It was very clean and cold in S's apartment and a nice familiar place I had been before. To regain more normalcies, the three of us decided to smoke a little green. Although lighting a bowl and passing it was very much a routine to us, it seemed very difficult to keep it going while we chatted. I didn't think I could feel any effects of the weed on my trip and attempted to clarify with D how stoned she was feeling. By this point I was again comfortable with her and tried to freely talk about the day's events. My biggest fear in divulging any information with her was the chance of sounding stereotypical. By this I mean sounding like just any other report she had read on acid trips, not original. Even though I know most acid trips contain the same characteristics, I felt generally quite elite about my experience and pushed away any attitude she had that her trips were anything like this one. I couldn't help but feel annoyed with her for trying to compare her past bunk trips to mine. I wanted her as well as people in the future to know that what I was experiencing seemed to only be expressed using words I had read before such as 'glowing experience' and 'tracers'. I was growing sick with trying to convey any ounce of originality in my thoughts. At 8:30 I stepped outside onto his porch to try and think some things through and get away from the videos being watched on YouTube by D and S. I started to reflect on what I truly wanted to do with my life. I thought back to how much the past is gone for good now and that we as humans need constant proof that it really happened through documents and videos. My college education is only proved through documents. Then thinking to the future, which only comes in small installments of the present day, meaning I had no real concept of personal growth. I began to get really pissed at myself for not doing anything worthy of saying at my funeral. I pushed those thoughts aside to settle in on the positive thoughts of present goals. I tried to think of what my point of being was at this moment in life and came up with the overwhelmingly happy thought of just finishing school and staying alive. That was a shining moment where I felt clear-headed and ready to rejoin my friends.
Back inside the apartment, we came to the solution that D and I would go our separate way and leave S to his computer programming. D and I drove over to our other friends' apartment for more smoking and chilling. The stimuli were a little overwhelming and being around I and J was not very pleasant. I had a hard time telling what my mind would actually like to do, so I decided to stick it out and smoke more with them until D wanted to leave. I was under the impression weed would have little effect on me since the acid was still in control, so I continuously hit a massive bong for a few rounds with the rest of the group. That's when things began spiraling ridiculously out of control. I would begin to speak and end the sentence, but split seconds later have no idea what I had just said. My sentences were more of a world salad with little sense being made from it. D was getting concerned by what I was babbling, like 'I have to stop pushing out because the mist comes out the sides.' I had no recollection of saying some of the things she said I said, only random fits of hysterical maniacal laughter where I would bury my face in I and J's couch. I do recall a ridiculous conversation with D where we used analogies about belts and shirts to explain relationships with various friends. I was so intent on being committed to the conversation that I hardly realized we were about ready to go to a party with J and I. D started picking up random people and dropping them off at the party, while we waited on alcohol to be picked up. I was babbling nonsense again in the passenger seat, trying to not make a fool out of myself in front of anyone in her backseat. A black cat crossed in front of our car at some point in the drive, to which I swore it off and promised D her penny (side up) would cancel that out.
We finally rolled up to the party at around midnight. I was so disoriented and confused at how the situation would go, being on acid, really high, and about to consume alcohol. I had been outside most of the day in the woods, was sweaty and not properly dressed for such a party. I felt ugly and really uncomfortable. Soon after getting there I begged D to take me home because things were turning strange again. As I talked to her outside with a group of acquaintances, I glanced across the street and saw her standing by the stop sign with her back to us. I kept looking back and forth between the two Ds and got extremely confused and upset as to why my mind was doing this. To make matters worse, people around me who knew I was on acid kept trying to help me 'trip harder' by getting in my face and making strange noises. I wanted to cry or just pass out. By the time we left at 1:00am I felt extremely embarrassed by my presence in a party like that. Although I was extremely incoherent, I still managed to give D directions home with ease. Upon arriving home, I showered and ate some food. After collapsing in my bed, I could feel the extreme tenseness of my calves and tried to massage the pain away. I grabbed pens and jabbed them into the tight muscles to try and alleviate the pain to no avail. I gave up and hoped sleep would consume me as it so easily does on mushrooms and even ecstasy. The last memory of the night was a crazy closed eye visual of pride rock from The Lion King and oranges in the sky. I woke up the next day sore, wiser, and with a better understanding of too many things. The feeling I could not shake was the lack of desire to do drugs for awhile.
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