DOSE:

3.5 mg

oral

DOC

BODY WEIGHT:

150 lb

My experiences with psychedelics began at 17, with LSA, mushrooms and then eventually LSD-25. By 2009, the genuine LSD-25 had all but vanished from my city, and blotter acid began to shift into the focus of grey-market psychedelic phenethylamines. My first encounter with a Halide substituted amphetamine was 2mg of (R) isomer DOI and later 2c-i. This summer (2011) I've also tried various Molly concotions ranging from genuine (R) isomer MDMA, MDA, bk-MDMA, and a bk-MDMA lidocaine cocktail that almost killed me. I also had a beautiful combination of 2c-e and 5-meo-DipT which was sold as candy acid, and an additional 2c-e experience. I have smoked cannabis on a daily basis for about 3 years. Also been a mid-heavy drinker for the past 2 years. Spent about $1500 in a month on cocaine in 2010, later converting it into crack for smoking, to save material.

This experience report actually begins a few months before the date of the experience. I acquired 10 hits of blotter acid from a source. I do not trust him per se, but he doses what he has, and is the guy to go to when you're looking for syd in my area. I OVERHEARD that what i had in my possession was actually DOB. This was fine with me, i was drinking and just wanted something to get my ex out of my head. I dropped 2, drank a bit, felt nothing. I dropped another 2 at +1:30, still feeling nothing. I dropped a final 2 at 2:30, still feeling only a light headedness. We left for the show we were going to, and i still felt barely a threshold, and was still drinking, as the source recommended to 'Drink like a fish'. So, I did. I lasted out the show, still barely threshold, and we went back to my friends house.

No one knew how many i had taken, as I was alone in tripping. We smoked more cannabis than any human being should ever consume, and it triggered all 6 hits of DOB to come crashing into a terrifying peak. I was completely zonked, and something triggered my fight or flight response, because I left in a hurry. Leaving, on a bicycle, it took me only a matter of moments to get downtown in my city, which was in the middle of it's saturday night bar craze.

Reaching the centre of my city, a man was making eye contact and asked me to approach. As i got close, a police van pulled up, and grabbed him. This man who was presumably going to ask for change, had just been grabbed, and cuffed 2 feet in front of me, and the officer was ignoring me. Not wanting to start a chase, i made sure i could leave the area, asking the officer and explaining what happened. He seemed confused but was occupied with his new prisoner and waved me off. This motif continued into the night, with what i could best describe as 'Sirens EVERYWHERE'. I saw about 4 emergency situations that night.

I had definately taken too much, and I can honestly say that words do not suffice to describe the experience of a DOB overdose. It was raunchy, blasty, fast and grungy. The hallucinations were complete, complex, rotating, and exploding. I was cycling south, last I remember, and went for blocks completely out of my head. Suddenly I look up and am trying to make out the street signs, because i could not recognize where i was at all. It didn't help, because the DOB had covered all the signs in a thick grey camouflage. I decided to lock up my bike and start looking for a cab. Apparently I had wound up somewhere in the northeast of my city, which is the not-so-great area for crime and cops. I found a cab, and after some terrifying conversation, I was on my way. Every moment was a blast, and i was completely disoriented for a further hour after getting home. It took 30 hours to return to baseline, with full blown visuals continuing well into the 14-16 hour mark. The rest of the day was spent in the typical brain-fried way that is unique to DO'x.

2 days later, I drink a bottle of gin, and eat my final 4 hits of the DOB. I go to my friend C's house, as i had spent my early hours of 12-14 speaking to him and his ladyfriend about my experience. They are both experienced with psychedelics and understood what i was talking about, as they had had DOB earlier that summer and not enjoyed it. The Experience was strange, and i had visuals reminiscent of mushrooms, but very vague and beneath the surface. Television was shifting, with shapes constantly changing, as if they were made that way... Anyways, about 2 hours pass and C goes into his fridge. He pulls out, and hands to me, a 1 gram bag of labelled 99.9% purity DOC. While DOB is grey market in Canada where we are, This is specifically listed as scheduled. I am holding in my hands enough psychedelic to dose 1000 individuals with a decent body load and digital visuals. We later learn that the DOC is in fact, (R)-DOC. 100% Pure, Right isomer DOC. I could barely handle the energy, and i was tempted to leave the place and never return. The little bag, Labelled professionally looked so incredibly inocuous, and terrifying. He said it came from Spain.

A month passes, and C finally gets some blotter paper, so he can lay the DOC on it, as he doesn't have a scale to measure it in single doses. I try some and love it. DOC is a beautiful, clean, speedy, euphoric, visual trip. Loaded at .6-.8mg per hit on his first page, i take 2 and i have found my new favourite thing in the world. No, it DOES NOT compare to the natural feeling of LSD-25, but it is a fabulous amphetamine and visual agonist. Everything breathes, Moves... Pictures, murals, everything is alive. A picture of 2 frogs riding a bicycle i have, are cycling, and grinning out above the caption of 'FUCK THE POLICE'. This lasts into the night, and i am able to sleep around the 12th hour.

I repeated this experience many times, always satisfied, although the blotter varied in potency, i was always able to find my dosage and get back to the speedy, visual, and euphoric place i was seeking.

NOW begins my experience with 3-4mg of (R)-DOC.

I got on a bus going to Toronto for Occupy. It was October 15th, and this occupation was beginning that day. I knew of 4 others from my city who were going, and C was one of them. I also met up with a friend who took the trip with me, who lives in Toronto. Going to Toronto i had only 2 grams of cannabis and a bottle of whiskey and my favourite book 'Dandy in the Underworld' in my possession. After spending 2 hours wandering the city trying to find the Occupation, and drinking in various bars, I call my friend whom i knew would be there. Eventually I find my way to St. James park, and am surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of interesting, modern individuals, and hundreds and hundreds of who seemed to be dim-witted and nauseatingly sweet. The kind of people you wouldn't want to talk to, but would not harm or argue against.

About 30 minutes pass and i find my friend, with the help of another girl i know from my hometown, and saw for the first time in a year or more. 15 minutes pass and between the General Assembly being passed around in Occupy fashion (yelling) i hear my name being called out, and find C and his lady friend, who came to find me and check out occupy. They are on M's, and had just dine and dashed. We find a nice spot, and he offers MXE. Never having done K before, i accept, doing about 10mg out of my hand. Not feeling much, i ask him if he has any acid. He gives me a 3x4cm piece of blank white paper and says 'I don't know how heavy it's dosed'. He gave me the mystery square. We'd all talked about it, he used a little tab of paper during his first lay to fully submerge the page, and it absorbed an unknown amount of chemical.

Still in the park, my friend (who was a medic) decides we should go for a coffee... It's been a while since i've seen him, and our relationship has been strange and disjointed, though i do believe we both have feelings for one another, there is an inherent awkwardness between us that we have never done anything but get intoxicated together. A walk later and I'm feeling a bit light headed from the MXE. I decide, in a bit of a drunken haze, to pop 2 hits of the tab into my mouth, and swallowing. I hand 2 hits to my friend, and he takes 1 and a half, says 'I tasted that...' and hands me back the other half tab. What followed was unexpected.

+15 There is definate activity building, and building quickly.

+30 I have begun developing a bodyload, and the sides of my vision are beginning to seep in and out of focus. We are still walking, in Central Toronto which i must say, is one of the greatest settings for psychedelics i've ever encountered.

+45 I tell him I'd like to go to Lake Ontario to throw the keys to my old house in. Something had driven me to be rid of them, and this seemed appropriate, finally. We get there and the lake where we were standing is covered in foam and filth, goose shit and styrofoam. We walk up in search of a better tide, and find one. After a moment of pause, I throw my old house key, and my old bike lock key (which was stolen) into the lake. We walk up the lakeside amidst terrible wind, and with every gust, i can feel the DO'x spirits closing in, and making me continuously more disoriented with my surroundings. Nevermind the fact that I know NOTHING of this city's layout, but my phone is also starting to give me a low battery warning too. I have nowhere to go, nowhere to be safe.

+1:00 Walking further, and away from the lake, we walk through some buildings (He knows where he is, I am following a pace or two behind) disoriented, we suddenly are in the middle of the central subway station, and i am ducking and weaving between people, speeding out of my mind, hallucinating vigorously and unrelentingly. We navigate the crowd and end up in a massive, Beautiful building, which i believe was the central train station. Absolutely overwhelmed, I am loving every moment of it, being so incredibly intoxicated, with little to no consequences, even though my vision was almost completely disturbed. He keeps asking 'Oh, what have you done to me?' in a loving way, laughing. He seems to be enjoying himself, leading me through the massively disorienting sights of downtown Toronto at 8pm on a thursday night.

+1:30 Out of the station and onto the street, we pass the Air Canada Centre, which has spotlights in the sky, and is absolutely jam packed with people trying to get in, and a heavy police presence. A tad spooked, we both decide to take another street, and leave the area. My head is in the sky, the spotlights are moving SO quickly, and for what? Why? What are they looking for? Were they DESIGNED for this? To be confusing? To confuse the kiddie who's never been to the big city before? Everything was being done to harrass, to disorient. It seemed so personal, and in a strange way, Beautiful.

+2:00 My friend gets a call, and we go to meet up with J, a friend from our hometown who was in town for occupy and a show. He has weed and wants to smoke. We find him, and continue walking. Conversations were hard to follow, but hilarious. He notices, and informs us that both of us have MASSIVE pupils. He is also a experienced psychonaut and i explain that it is DOC, and he asks for some. After 5 minutes of searching through pockets that were melting into my body, i pull out the tab, and hand it over. All of it. the remaining 6 hits. I tell him to be careful with it, and i think he understands, as we've tripped before, and i'm usually pretty good at handling stuff. They smoke, I refuse and we continue walking.

+2:30 By now, i am beginning to peak, and my hallucinations are levelling out to a full blown, panoramic swirl. EVERYTHING in my field of view was changing mercilessly, and interweaving itself into itself. This drug comes on in layers, and keeps adding them. Layer after Layer of concept, idea and image compile, and builds continuously on whatever it was just doing. My friend stops to play with some street cats, but i can't see them. I'm hallucinating so intensely that I was incapable of seeing an animal, which was moving and interacting with him. He kept saying 'Oh, the cats, oh, so adorable, Look, Look at the cats...' but i was distracted by someone i thought was standing there staring at us. i believed them to be the cat's owner. Looking up, there was no one there, only some leaves on the wall of the garden we were in. I was horrified - I couldn't even SEE a living creature, and instead was mistaking a cluster of black for a person with feelings and emotions.

+3:00 now fully peaking, and completely loaded, we are walking to his house to 'smoke a bowl' and 'stare at walls' which was an incredibly appealing idea at the time. Walking through the streets we talked, and i gave him my impressions of the city, saying i understood why he had made the move from our smaller town to this city. However, some interactions with traffic, involving J-walking (which i was not in the mood for, since i couldn't see very well) and almost getting hit by a car, i felt the prickle on the back of my neck i attribute to norepinephrine. Things started to get creepier and creepier

+3:15 by now, i'm getting some terrible vibes. The big, Beautiful city began to seem like it was swallowing - from the cats, to the homeless, I felt out of place, like i was down a dark alley, and someone was behind me. Every street got worse and worse, and eventually it turned on my friend. I began to feel as though he had spent all of our time together, nursing me for this moment - earning my trust so that i would lower my guard enough that he could act. I feared for my safety, and said to him more than once 'You're going to kill me, aren't you?' to which he would laugh, or say 'You keep saying that'. A few blocks later, and after a moment where i stopped, and stared at him, saying 'I can't see you, wait... ' and trying to pick him out of the hallucinations which were still panoramic. In my head, i'm a blaze of thought. The concepts were building, and they were building against him. Every block was me getting closer to my death. I had what i believe to be an internal monologue with myself about how I did not deserve to die, that Yes, I had made mistakes in life and know some questionable individuals, but I was a good person and worked for a living. Somewhere in my psyche, the energy that was building against him said 'That doesn't matter.' To which, i defiantely stopped, and demanded, 'Yes, Actually, that DOES matter.' 1 block later, and I turn around, leaving him on a street corner, apparently 2 blocks from his house. He says 'Are you sure? I'd hate for you to get lost...' but i'm already a few paces away, and saying 'NOPE, NOPE... NOPE.' Shaking my head, i turn and walk, No idea where i am, or where i am going.

+3:30 I am physically and mentally shaken. The DO'x spirits are everywhere, 360 degrees of hallucination, this substance shows NO mercy. I am continuously looking for a way out, a comfort, but can find none. I find a convenience store and make the Hofmann-informed decision of buying 1L of milk. Comfort. A taste of home, i grew up on this, delicious, moo-juice. the carton WILL NOT open. I try, for minutes, and abandon it. I had been defeated. I was weak, and was unworthy of this city. I belonged in my small town, away from the hustle of all of these people who were now streaming out of bars and restaurants on the main street. Everyone was busy, or intoxicated, but I was the boy with the litre of milk and the wild eyes. A very attractive man came and sat next to me, i believe sensing the disturbance in my psyche, he asked if i was homeless, I said 'No, i'm just here for Occupy' Apparently, I looked homeless. I believed it... He offered to smoke a spliff with me, but i politely declined saying i had to call my mom, which at the time, I was considering doing, for some strange reason. The vibe from him, although he seemed nice enough was that of a pig - i felt that i'd be taken to some back lot, handed a lit spliff and then arrested in minutes, Of course, judging by his face and dreadlocks, but I'm not THAT stupid. I politely decline again saying i have to place a call because my battery is dying and he says 'that's the story of my life, man, look' and shows me his phone, which was glowing yellow and bright. I wish him a good night and he is on his way, after a pleasent 5 minutes of company, here in front of this convenience store and the milk i couldn't open.

+4:00 i'm still sitting in front of the store, with my milk, unopened, getting calls from the friend i left. He's worried about me, i can tell, because he calls about 4 times in 2 minutes, but i don't answer. It all blurs together as i'm staring blankly at my phone, his name on the screen, it vibrating, the potleaf background, everything is compiling, layer after layer after layer. This city is a city of layers. From the Cats, to the crazy homeless lady twitching, to the tourist japanese boy in the hotel window who sees her talking to herself, everything about it is compounding into one gigantic clusterfuck. A clusterfuck of hallucination. It doesn't help that i get 2 or 3 texts from 1 individual asking me to come to the 'afterparty' at a bar (to which i think, I AM the afterparty.) and another who was trying to set up a cannabis business asking if i would be interested in patronage, to which i responded that i was 'a bit tied up in something else right now'. I remain sitting in front of this store until around

+4:15 when i realize the amount of heat i am drawing to myself, with wild eyes and a carton of milk, staring blankly into space in front of a convenience store on a main street in downtown toronto. I was people watching, as i do usually, but i was making eye contact with more people than ever before, and they clearly were being disturbed by my look, or were content and welcoming. One group of men passes, inebriated possibly, and one sees me and says 'Hey guys look! Now, THIS GUY, THIS GUY is high on drugs.' They laugh and so do i, nodding. I decide it's time to leave. I stand up, suddenly, and walk away, leaving my litre of milk, unopened on the sidewalk.

+4:30-6:00 I walk for what feels like days. completely spaced, my hallucinations are beginning to taper, but EVERYTHING is still flared, and shiny. It looks like the cars built the city. All the Ford Fusions, the SUV's everything was Chrome and polished, Shined to a sheen that was brutally metallic. The buildings, all of the architecture had nuances and art built into every stone... but i am regaining my vision, slowly... I still have a heavy body loading and my speech and interpretive skills are slowed immensely. I walk in one direction from art gallery to the lake side and then back again. an art studio has a 50 foot long, massive pink foil AK-47 pointing out at the street. 'Bang.'

+6:30 Still walking, i returned to the core. Completely lost, don't really care, i am looking for a good place to stop and sit. It's now 3-4am and the police are out patrolling. I don't have change for the bus, and nor would i know where it took me. I stay in the core and walk. I interact with 3 individuals at seperate times. One asks for a lighter, and then asks if i know where to get cocaine, which i ignore. Another, smiles and gives me the most honest 'Hello!' i've ever received, and then finally through some strange stroke of fate, i run into C and his ladyfriend on one of the streets i was wandering down, and we spend the rest of the night/morning together.

+7:00 they had been to see Skrillex, and then were refused check-in at the hotel they had reservations for. They left to walk, thinking of going home, but ran into me instead. We returned to St. James park, after a long journey (and a session of walking circles around a fountain ledge) we spent the night speaking and sitting in the Gazebo which was in full Occupy-style. Improptu modernist graffiti everywhere, slogans and ideas such as 'Debt is an Illusion, Life Goes On' scrawled on signs and posted on every banister, the octagonal floor had been broken up into 8 coloured sections, centralizing on the middle, coloured section which was occupied currently by a guy playing a drum (and doing it well, he didn't suck...) a guy doing some kind of ancient indian 'Dragon Dancing' which focuses on the exchange of energy. I was still hallucinating, and all of his movements were followed with trails, through which i could map out the exchanges of energy with each step he was explaining. I chose my section, and sat in the middle of my colour, so as to proclaim my understanding of the energies which were influencing this strange, strange corner of the world at this time. It was 4am, and i was surrounded by beautiful people. One girl offered an orange to us, and recieved 2 hits of acid in exchange for it. Another was asleep, divided into 2 of the sections of floor. The park was full of tents, and everyone was asleep, except for those of us around the gazebo. I took another dose of MXE, and it laced into the DOC perfectly, to bring about what i consider to be beautifully trademark K visuals on top of the DOC visuals which were less pronounced now. I had come to terms with the city, and it's layers. I had conquered the harrassment of the DO'x spirits. We sat, and awaited the dawn, after a creeper invaded the safe space and began ranting about the Anonymous and the CIA, the DEA and how EVERYONE is a NARC, YOU SEE THAT GUY WITH THE COFFEE MAN HE'S A NARC I JUST CALL EM LIKE I SEE EM, YOU KNOW ANONYMOUS MAN, LISTEN TO ME MAN, I'M ONE OF THE GUYS FROM THE TOP, THEY'RE ALL, MAN, THEY'RE ALL CIA MAN STRAIGHT TO THE TOP, CIA MAN.

+8:00 it's now 6am and we are sitting on a bench, watching the sunrise. C is sleeping in the dirt, in a deep M-hole. I am awake, with no chance of sleep, still tripping, watching the birds ghost in and out of my vision, asking more than once, 'Can you see that?' 'The bird?' 'Yeah.' 'Yeah....' 'Okay, just making sure.' The sun slowly rose, and the black sky became purple, pink, red, and finally light blue, behind the seething, breathing trees and the ghost-birds flying at random. Helicopters came around 7am, and people started waking up in the park. The city came to life. Again, but, in a different way. Instead of being blasted, and unrelenting, it was peaceful, and i finally understood why people chose to live in the middle of such a massive metropolis. The energy is unmistakable, the flow is continuous. Something is always happening, in one way or another, and I fell in love with the welcome embrace that so many of these people had subconciously wired into them because they have to deal with SO many other people every day.

+9-10:00 after some talk with the girl i knew that i ran into the day before, and a long trip to find the bus station, i was in the station, waiting, unsure of when the bus came, as i'd lost my schedule. Luckily somehow i'd been able to keep my $76 ticket. The Spirits were unmerciful, but they were not completely cruel. In a moment of courage i stood up quickly, and found a monitor to figure out when the bus was leaving to my city. It was DEParting, as soon as i stood up. I walked out, got in line, got my seat, and was on my way home, in the nick of time.

Since this experience i have had many smaller doses of DOC and believe it to be a formidable, and very enjoyable psychedelic, used recreationally, or in large doses for complete disorientation. Sasha Shulgin labelled it as an 'Archetypical' Psychedelic and I agree. Everything IS there in spades, there is incredible interlacing and interweaving of experience, to which i was greatly humbled, by a miniscule 3-4mg of a Spanish-made chemical.

If you are going to use this substance, excersize great caution, and DO. NOT. UNDERESTIMATE. THE DO'X SPIRITS. There is great potential for damage, and even death with these substances, given their miniscule dose-effect ratio. You cannot eye out the difference between 1mg which would be a great time, or 10mg which could ruin your life if you get caught intoxicated.

NEVER mix them with any type of Cathinone like Methylone (bk-MDMA) or Mephedrone or MDPV, as the vasoconstriction (especially with DOC) can leave you with (at the very worst) cluster headaches that will return for weeks with any type of accelerated cardio activity.

Cannabis adds a +4 to the experience, and subtle reactivation of certain hallucinations, comparable to LSD-25.

It was said to me that DOC is like, what Acid wishes it could be if it were longer, but I disagree. I'd much rather have the natural, clean ergoline-amphetamine feeling high than this blasty, dirty dimethoxy chloro amphetamine high, but it's better than DOB, in my opinion.

Happy trails.

Exp Year: 2011	ExpID: 94443
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 21
Published: Feb 7, 2012	Views: 14,950
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DOC (357) : Retrospective / Summary (11), Various (28)