I had always been curious about psychedelic drugs. When I was younger I never thought I would actually try anything like LSD, but there was always a curiosity, brought about by images in the media portraying the crazy visual hallucinations people can have when under the influence of certain substances. I have been an avid pot-smoker for about four years, and about six months ago, I tried mushrooms for the first time (a half-eighth). I will never forget this first experience I had, as I walked through this magical forest where everything was beautiful, and where I felt completely one with everything around me. Since then, I have done mushrooms two more times: once at Bonnaroo (unremarkable compared to my first trip, but still a good experience) and again at an STS9 concert at Red Rocks Amphitheater. Here, I experienced my first true hallucinations. The rocks were making faces at me, laughing down at me, and the sky had turned into an incredible kaleidoscopic pattern. This was the only time I have ever really experienced ego death. Although somewhat frightening at times, I could feel the music through my whole body, and it was one of the most intense experiences of my life...but amazing!

Anyway, onto the real story (I could write pages about my shroom trips but they were insignificant compared to my trip on LSD). Just a warning, this might get kind of long, but hopefully it’s helpful. I know I read dozens of these experiences before I tried acid, and I feel like they prepared me well. About a month ago, my friend B and I were planning on going to a dubstep concert, and we were trying to score some mushrooms for it. We searched and searched, but nobody could hook us up. However, one of our friends said she could get us some acid. After my most recent mushroom experience, I felt as though I could handle just about anything, and I had been curious about acid for a really long time, so we decided to go for it. B had tried it before but didn’t trip that hard because it was weak acid, but our friend assured us that this was good shit.

As the night of the show approached, I was very excited, but admittedly, a bit nervous. I mean who wouldn’t be? Even though I had butterflies in my stomach, I felt like I was physically and mentally ready for whatever the acid trip would throw at me. I had the mindset that if I could look at any aspect of the trip positively, there was no way I would have a bad trip. Besides, my most recent shroom trip had been so intense, and so incredible, that I couldn’t imagine encountering any visions or feelings on acid that I couldn’t look at positively. Most people would have freaked the fuck out if two giant cliffs were making faces at them and laughing down on them, but I had taken it in stride, and even found it hilarious.

The day of the show: I sat through class all day not hearing a word my professors muttered, anxiously awaiting the Ginza show, and my first LSD experience. After class, my friend B called me up and informed me that he had a family emergency, and had to go home for the weekend, so he couldn’t go to the show. I was really bummed, I had been looking forward to tripping with him, and I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to do it. It’s a good thing my friend, N, said she would drive us to the show, otherwise I would have had nobody to go with. I asked her if she wanted a hit of acid, but she declined, saying she wouldn’t be able to drive us home if she was tripping. Good point. I really wanted to do the acid because I had been looking forward to it all week, but I was apprehensive about tripping alone. I was nervous, but I was more than confident that I would have a good trip. I had done a lot of research about acid, and I knew that it would agree with me, but everything I read cautioned me about tripping alone. We drove down, smoked a few bowls, and then decided to go to the show. I had the acid in my pocket, and I decided to chill for a little. I would get to the concert, and feel it out: if I was digging the vibes of the show, I would drop the acid.

The moment I walked in the door, I immediately decided I wanted to trip there. The main room was uncrowded, and had a lounge area with comfy couches. There were black lights, and a crazy lightshow going on, and interesting paintings and stuff to look at on the walls. There was also another room next to the main one with all kinds of statues and paintings, and just cool shit to look at. Not only that, but there was another stage outside with a different band playing. Oh yeah, did I mention there was also a game room with pinball and air hockey, and all kinds of other fun stuff? After exploring the place for a bit, I decided it was a great place to trip out, and it was time to drop the acid.

10:00pm. I was a bit nervous, so I decided to only take one of the two hits I had, and take the other if I wasn’t tripping that hard in like an hour. My heart was racing as I put the little piece of paper in my mouth, but once I did, it all subsided. It didn’t taste like anything, but it felt strange, almost tingly and cold on my tongue. The journey begins here. I sat talking with my friend for a little while, looking around at everything in the room, I remember thinking, “in about two hours, this place is going to look very different.” I had no idea how right I was. After about 45 minutes had passed, I was feeling really good. I had a nice body high, and the music sounded great. I couldn’t tell if it was the acid, or if the lightshow was just really trippy, but I didn’t care, I was having a good time. At this point I was still having normal conversations with my friend, N, and other people in the bar, but I couldn’t help but notice that everyone’s faces looked very three-dimensional, and almost plastic-like. We went outside to check out the other band, and they were awesome too. It was really hot inside, so we chilled outside listening to the other band for a while. I was really high at this point, but I wasn’t having any hallucinations, and I was still concretely in this world, so I decided to take the other hit.

11:30pm. I casually popped the other piece of blotter in my mouth. N and I decided to go inside and play some air hockey. I sucked at it because I was captivated by the vivid trails left behind by the neon colored puck. I lost but I didn’t give a shit, I was too enamored with all the cool paintings on the wall. All the paintings now seemed more lifelike and three-dimensional. I could see the smallest details in everything: things that I would never usually notice. Looking at an empty spot of wall, I could now see the patterns made by the cinderblocks under the paint in more dimension than you could imagine. It was like I had HD vision. I realized I had left to go to the bathroom a really long time ago, and I had just gotten distracted by all the cool stuff, so I went back outside and joined N. The band outside was a huge contrast to the dubstep inside. They were playing old-style hippy jam band type of music, and had all kinds of horns and saxophones: this is the best sounding music I have ever heard in my entire life. I had a perpetual smile and couldn’t stop dancing to the music. I was in total and utter amazement at how good the music sounded. It was almost as if my brain were having a constant orgasm for the entire concert. My smile felt bigger than my face, and I could feel the music through my entire body...even more so than when I was on shrooms at red rocks.

I looked at the ground and it was covered with an incredible pattern. It was not kaleidoscopic, but stationary, almost like a pattern on a fancy wallpaper. I looked up at the tree above me, and the leaves were dangling above my head, almost like they were trying to reach out and tickle me. I found this hilarious, and I kept pointing these things out to N, only to realize she couldn’t see them. She was experiencing an entirely different show than me. I wished so badly that I had someone to share this experience with, because any time I would try to tell N something, she would just laugh at me like I was crazy. It was difficult to have conversation now. I kept thinking of a million things at once, and when I started to say it, I would just forget where I was going: my brain had already moved on to a different subject. My arms felt really weird, almost like tight and stiff, but I didn’t really care because I was having such an amazing time.

We went back inside, and the lightshow was more intense than ever. The whole room was purple, and I felt like I was in space or something. The dubstep music was literally fucking my mind: It sounded like alien music and it was just so odd but so moving, I just could not get over how amazing it sounded. No, not sounded. I wasn’t hearing music anymore, I was feeling it: absorbing it with my whole body. It was a three-hour mind orgasm, there’s no better way to describe it. I remember at one point, N asked me what time I wanted to leave. I replied, “Time? I don’t care about time. Time isn’t real, it’s an entity made up by man, and all it does is cause problems.” I then realized she was probably bored by now. I was having the time of my life, and she was probably tired of it and ready to leave. I wanted so badly for her to be in the same state of mind as me, and I realized I would never be able to explain to her how I felt at that moment. I am trying my best to explain it now, but words truly do not do justice to the LSD experience. I guess the best word to sum up the whole experience is, “whoooooooaaaaaaaaaahh.”

Anyway, the concert came to an end and it was time to go home. We exited the building and everything seemed so bright, even though it was 2 in the morning. It looked entirely different than on the way in, and I had no idea where we had parked. I felt really bad that I’d just had such an incredible experience, and N had just been like sitting there bored. I kept apologizing and asking her if she had a good time. She said yes, but I couldn’t help but think she was just trying to make me feel better. She reassured me that she had fun too, and she put on some music. Again, I start head bobbing with a huge grin: music is my favorite thing in the world at this moment. It was hot in the car so I rolled down the window on the highway, and stuck my head out of it. It was the single most refreshing moment of my life. The cold wind blew all of the troubles out of my mind and I was left content.

She dropped me off at my apartment building and I went inside. The stone tile floor looked so trippy, the rock grains flowing around. As I went up the stairs the echoes of my footsteps sounded like I was underwater. I walked into my cluttered apartment and thought, “fuck...what am I supposed to do now?” I was still tripping hard and both my roommates were asleep, and I was just all alone in my frustratingly messy apartment. Everything looked warped, like in a fun house mirror. First thing’s first, I decided to put on some music, and I went outside on my porch, where I liked the atmosphere a lot better (it faces the woods).

I grabbed my bong and packed up the bowl. It was the last of my weed. I had about a half bowl and that was it. I looked at my empty weed bag: devastated. I kept thinking I saw another piece in there but whenever I reached in to get it, it would disappear. I was really sad that I was out of weed, but whatever, I’ll just smoke it. I took a bong hit, and as I held it in, all the leaves on the trees next to my porch just curled up into a crazy pattern, a lot like the leaves dangling above me at the concert. With each bong hit the visuals got crazier and crazier, and I found it hilarious!

I had the idea to go get my acoustic bass, and I started playing. Improvisation never came to me so easily, and the strings felt like butter on my fingers: I was incredibly entertained. There is a Bob Marley poster and a Jimi Hendrix poster on my wall, and their facial expressions seemed to keep changing. Could it be? Here are two of my idols, the two greatest musicians in history, right here on my wall, grinning in approval of my music.

I wasn’t hungry, but I decided I wanted to have a flavor in my mouth. I squirted a drop of honey in my mouth, and it was the sweetest, most delicious thing I had ever tasted.

It was then that I remembered that when I was on shrooms at Bonnaroo, my friend and I spent like 2 hours drawing with magic markers, and it felt so cool! I didn’t have markers, but I grabbed a pen and some paper and started going to town. I like doing art anyway, but the satisfaction of drawing while on acid was just incredible. I had no idea what I was going to draw, and I thought it would turn out to be total crap, but I didn’t care. I would make a mark and watch the ink bleed onto the paper and take shape. I would expand the mark and it would turn into something else, then something else, just growing and growing. It was like the drawing was unfolding before me, revealing itself to me bit by bit. I didn’t have to think about it, and I was not creating the drawing, it was more like I was just unveiling the art from the blank page. My hand was moving but I wasn’t controlling it: it was just revealing the drawing to me little by little, but I wished more than anything in the world that I had some colors. My mind was racing. So many different feelings and emotions poured out onto the page. It was like five minutes worth of thought process packed into five seconds...end on end for ten hours, and it could all be summed up by, “wooooaaahhhhh.”

I kept having these incredible realizations after realizations about the world and the universe, and myself. It was like every great realization lead to another one, but at the end of every realization loop was the incredible realization that nothing I had just thought of made sense, and I was just on acid. About halfway through my drawing I realized that it was going to turn out really cool. I was creating art without even being conscious of what I was doing. That was when my mind revealed to me the most incredible realization of them all: It doesn’t matter what I do, and it doesn’t matter how I get there, but in the end everything works out. I had just been aimlessly scribbling on a piece of paper for what seemed like hours and it was turning into an incredible piece of art. I realized I could put whatever the fuck I wanted on the page and it would be art, no matter what it was. Anything at all, I could do it and it would be awesome. In the midst of all this, I wrote on the back of the page:

It can be whatever I want it to be,

Whatever I want it to be can be art.

I get lost in the_____________????????

Music never sounds so clear as if

Daylight broke too soon.

There are question marks and scribbles all over the back of the page and then:

…and that’s how to describe ACID

The first two lines have to do with my realization that it doesn’t matter what I do, it will turn out good either way. I get lost in the...well everything really. I didn’t even know what to put because there were a million things going through my head. Music had never sounded so clear to me, and I kept picturing the sun bursting above the dark horizon...daylight breaking too soon. At the bottom of the page I wrote, “I WISH I HAD SOME COLORS!” I wished I had some colors that night even more than I wish I could upload my drawing along with this story. I am truly more proud of this drawing than any other piece of art I have ever done.

Everything was so significant that night: like every little detail of everything! I even wrote at the bottom of the back of my drawing, “Everything is so significent. Magnificent? Significent.” And yes it was spelled wrong. I looked at it after I wrote it and thought that it didn’t look right. “Is that really a word? Sig-ni-fi-sent. Like magnificent? Well everything’s magnificent right now too, but what the hell is that word?” I couldn’t think of the correct pronunciation of the word. “Oh well, maybe it’s not a word, maybe I just made it up in my head. Language is obsolete, and words are just useless, they don’t mean as much as they are intended to mean.” I was seriously convinced that significant was not a real word, and that my mind had fabricated it just like my distorted visions and crazy thoughts, and the abstract piece of art that had revealed itself to me.

I was finished drawing, I was bored with playing bass, and it was cold as fuck outside. I was still tripping hard but I had no idea what to do. I had done all I could do with this trip and now I just want to be done, but there was no way I could fall asleep yet. I looked at my watch. 4:20am, and I don’t have any more fucking weed. Well shit, what do I do now? I was officially bored with tripping and I just wanted it to be over so I could go to sleep. I remembered how awesome honey tasted, so I squirted some more in my mouth. It was waayyyyyyyy too sweet, it almost hurt my mouth it was such an overpowering taste. I decided to take a shower: that will kill some time.

I walked into my bathroom and when I looked in the mirror, it was not me in the reflection. I mean obviously it was me but it didn’t look like me. I looked like a fucking lunatic: like an insane psychopath. “How is this decision going to affect my life? What is happening to the world?” I felt like my entire idea of reality was just falling apart. I put on some music and hopped in the shower. The warm water comforted me, and I started to feel better. I realized, “what the hell, I’m still tripping so I might as well enjoy it.” I was smiling, moving to the music again, thinking positive thoughts. I became amazed by the patterns made by the wet and dry parts of my shower curtain, and water droplets looked distorted and split up into a symmetrical arrangement. I sat in the bottom of my shower for what seemed like hours, just thinking about the crazy night I just had. My whole idea of reality was just shattered; I realized there was so much more to the world than what I had previously thought. Was I going insane? No, no, I’m just on acid.

I got out of the shower and dried off, and put on some comfortable clothes. I made myself a cup of tea and sat out on my porch, as I watched the sun start to come up. I felt great! So comfortable and refreshed after my shower, and soothed by my hot tea. For the first time in my life, I was completely and totally at peace. I had made it through my acid trip and had an incredible time: it was a night I would never forget. I gained so much insight from this experience, and I felt like I had grown as a person. I went to sleep around 6:30am, exhausted, but incredibly happy and peaceful.

I woke up at 8:00am and I had an incredible amount of energy, considering I had been up all night tripping balls. I walked out of my room and looked around my messy, cluttered apartment. I felt really good: I wasn’t tripping anymore, but I was definitely off baseline. I couldn’t hang out in my messy apartment; I had to go somewhere else. I put in some headphones and just started walking. Nowhere in particular, I was just walking; thinking. Everything looked so vibrant and beautiful! I walked around the woods for about two hours just thinking about all the insight I had gained from my trip, and how I could relate it to everyday life, and just admiring the beauty this world has to offer. I realized everything in the world has this inner psychedelic beauty that has always been there, but I just didn’t notice it until after I tripped on acid. Even now, about a month later, I still sometimes look at something and realize how trippy and beautiful it is. I wouldn’t call it a flashback, but some things like this just remind me of my acid trip.

I feel like after this experience I am more open to abstract thinking, and I have realized that sometimes you can’t plan things out, you just have to go with the flow, and whatever you do it will probably turn out for the best. I would not recommend LSD to just anybody, because I can definitely see how some people may think they are going crazy or have a bad trip, but if you can look at just about anything in a positive way, and you don’t let things bother you, you should definitely try it. With the right mindset and setting I really learned a lot about myself and the world from LSD. It is not something I would want to do all the time, but I really want to trip again in a few months. From my experience the most important thing to remember is that the point of LSD, or mushrooms for that matter, is not just to get fucked up. These drugs are not like alcohol or MDMA, where I just get fucked up and party, and have a good time. Psychedelics really expanded my mind and made me look at the world in a whole new light. I had an incredibly awesome time tripping on acid, but I also learned a lot, and I feel like I am a more mature and insightful person after this great experience.