DOSE: T+ 0:00	2 tablets	oral	MDMA	(pill / tablet)
T+ 1:45	2 tablets	oral	MDMA	(pill / tablet)
T+ 3:00	1 tablet	oral	MDMA	(pill / tablet)
T+ 5:00	2 tablets	oral	MDMA	(pill / tablet)

BODY WEIGHT:

126 lb

Having previously ingested up-to 4 pills of known oomph before, I considered myself ready to ascend to the higher realms of MDMA consumption. This brash cockiness was alas my downfall as the potency of my roll was indeed far too high in retrospect.
The pills, which I ate with my friend Dave, were renowned for being potent and highly hallucinogenic (possibly even leading me to believe the it was MDA) from personal experience and the word of others.

In trips gone by we had noticed that these particular pills were much more euphoric and gave an orgasmic feeling throughout the trip from all over the body. Especially when moving the legs.

The week prior I had been scouring over the internet to ascertain as much information I could concerning the effects and mal-effects of the drug and so was in a highly anticipative mood. On the day of the trip Dave and I had wandered over to a “friends” house to sell him some of the contraband. To our delight we arrived to see him rolling and megalomaniacal. As Dave pulled out his sack of 50 pills “the friend” snatched at them and proceed to rob him and punch him in the face, acquiring around 30 pills. The door was then slammed in our faces and we were never to see the pills again – revenge was sought but it’s irrelevant.

As we walked to the bus stop - defeated - we vowed not to let this get to us and that we would merely take 1 pill as to alleviate the trauma endured. This pretty much outlines our mindset, which was of course very shitty.

We got into my house – where we normally rolled – and waited till everybody else in the house was sound asleep, distant from our ecstasy adventures. We set about and ate 1. The acrid taste was sickening, but I got it down me. We then talked for about five minutes and decided that as we had around 20 left we might as well take 2. So we repeated the arduous act of swallowing washing up powder and sat back and waited for the results.

At T:00:30 I noticed the first effects – excitement and anxiety entwined in a very childlike and magical sensation, I noticed my pupils had already dilated and I put this down to my fast metabolism and the strength of the pills. Dave by then had felt no effect.

Fast-forward to T:01:00 and we by now were both now peaking the come-up (the best part about it). Everything became racy and stupendous, from inanimate objects such as keyboards to even our own voices, which became high pitched and fast. We decided to record such marvel and set-up a tape recorder (greatly recommended). As usual we turned off the lights, lay in our respective beds, me lying on my stomach, and Dave on his side. Then our bullshit session started, whereby we amalgamated the first thing that came into our head with what we saw and constructed sentences out of them. Thus creating essence of creativity, which to us anyway, is the goal of our entheogenic quests.

We carried that on for around fifteen minutes, taking advantage of the ludicrous thought patterns we had incurred and decided that after all, tonight was going to be marvellous.

As usual we discarded the task of notation and embraced the idea of going outside for a brisk walk in my fields at near 1.a.m. on a cold English morn. As we reached the backdoor we stood side-by-side looking at each other, observing our alert eyes and jittery disposition. So we dropped two more.

T:01:45 This time they went down like good old PG Tips, and my obsessive infatuation with exceeding the boundaries of psychoactives became quenched, or at least at this point equalled.

Outside was warm, beautiful and my back garden (which I have lived in since I was born) brought back a multitude of nostalgia. For brief moments I cared to regress to my childhood and was caught gleefully skipping the lengths of the grass. In reality the weather was atrocious and it was bitter February night, but owing to my drug intake, this was irrelevant.

We hiked over to the fields and gazed to the moon, which was full and also was to my surprise was on fire. There was a very distinct blue flame rising above from it, and it flickered with the wind. Even when I blinked and rubbed my eyes like they do in cartoons the flame remained, and did so for the next few days. Call it my guide or call it a reaction in the brain the flame still became a figure of stability for me, which I could turn to later on in times of adversity to remind of the good I was feeling.

We then reached a long track that divided to fields. To picture it, imagine a “soccer” or football field, the halfway line being the track, each half being a field. We proceeded to stand around 10 feet away from the track and stared at each other in the light of the lit moon to hallucinate. The visuals came instantaneously for both of us as the figure of Dave’s body raced backwards and forwards, as if he were being catapulted toward me but not hitting me then immediately reverting to his original position. Like “next frame” kind of.

Another hallucinations was him just standing there, then suddenly (again next frame) both of his arms would be unnaturally at right angles with his torso, as if adopting a crucifixion pose. Quite surprisingly these very powerful, full-blown hallucinations were off a mere two tabs, the other two had not yet had an effect.

We carried on walking down the track till we came to a bridge, we were talking to each other and I turned my head to look at him and he stopped still (visually) but carried on speaking. I stopped, looking at the frozen image of him, as his voice grew weaker, then again next frame I saw that he had moved some 2 metres in front of me. It was like a computer glitch had transcended into my vision. The last two tabs were kicking in. I felt the racy, speedy effect of the come up again and begged that we turned back.

We had walked quite a while for about 30 minutes so in a more ecstatic state of mind it was only going to take us 30 seconds to get back. In fits of renewed energy from the latest does and just sheer excitement I offered Dave a race back to my garden. We began to run and my clouded up chest (owing to chronic MJ inhalation) was gone and I was able to run like a demon. We ran about 500m, which was in fact all we had actually walked and as we stopped we found that we weren’t out of breath. Despite breaking the world land speed record.

Back in the garden we went into my conservatory, which is situated at the back of the garden. We stuck on some music that would satisfy our mood – Supercat – Too Greedy. There was some water there from earlier that day, and being the obsessive bastards we are we ate another 1 at T:03:00, declaring it to DEFINTELY be the last.

This is where the memories start to get real sketchy. The other two had not yet peaked, and we ingested yet another disco-biscuit, (or lectroom as it is known around these parts). I can remember looking at the circulator fan – made of five spindles - and seeing the normally rigid pieces of wood oscillate with the music, and effervesce all sorts of multi-coloured bubbles.

About 1hour must have passed we just sat there not saying much, when I looked out into the now dark abyss of my back garden and saw what was in reality a towel on a washing line, and saw a man hanging. The vision construed fear in me and I began to have a psychedelic crisis, with all the trademarks. The empathic nature of the drug meant that when I relayed the information of corpse only metres away from our position to Dave, he completely agreed. We stayed there for a long while tripping our tits off, enjoying the physical body sensations, but growing weary of the hallucinations. However, as I looked up and saw the moon aflame I remembered the good times, and that I was only on MDMA (which I had forgotten) and valiantly strode back into the house.

For some unknown reason as we sat at the dinner table rolling, frying or whatever I proposed that we take 2 more, as the effects were likely to wear off soon (so I thought). We did, (T:05:00).

This is where I cannot remember a THING. I can remember VERY VAGUELY us both sitting on a bed talking complete nonsense, immersed in UTTER CONFUSION.

That’s all I can remember of the night. We woke up around 11.a.m having gone to sleep at God knows when to the proposition of a good ‘ol English fry up (except black pudding). This is usually my favourite dish, on this occasion it tasted like shit.
I had a ball of phlegm lodged in my Adams apple (no pun intended) that I was too feeble to cough out. I felt really dirty and weak, and looked it too. I stunk of sweat like I had been wearing the same clothes for days, and every time I got up I felt my stomach turn.

As part of therapy Dave and I retraced our steps from the night before and reminisced of our mad visuals. But it was painful to move quickly. The day was long, and was very typical burnout hangover, except greatly magnified. Mentally I was dull, and could not muster up any sort of creative output. My speech was fucked, and voice strained. I felt like a complete smack head. The day passed and I went to bed and dreamt lucidly with no apparent meaning (I usually try to interpret my own dreams with a bit of Freudian literature).

The next day (the day after the day after the experience) I was completely refreshed and my deep negative feelings had completely changed to profound positive feelings, mainly as I found a way to describe what had happened and had metaprogrammed the event. By the way of a poem.

Today’s sorrow is never tomorrow,
As the light will rise at dawn.
And the sickness placed upon us,
Will not be there for more.
Just an inkling of an idea,
A bright spark to say the least.
Gives me the freedom,
Me the power,
To kill the seventh beast.

Exp Year: 2003	ExpID: 32958
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Apr 28, 2007	Views: 6,966
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