I woke up feeling a bit odd from a dissociative binge the day before, a roiling combination of PCP, 3-MeO-PCP and 3-MeO-PCE, consolation for a bad day before. This has mostly worn off by the time we dose though. We decide we’re all going to go out on an adventure. I’m finally going to bring other people to my favorite tripping spot – The beautiful park and woods that are connected to the freight tracks. They are all tripping too, all on 4-AcO-DMT. I decide I am going to dose now, before we leave, as the DOx drugs are notorious for their long come up. The tabs are so bitter that I almost throw up, it’s a stinging unpleasantness that reflexively makes me want to purge the poison from my body. I let the tabs sit against my gums and choke the toxin into my bloodstream.

We are on the bus now, en route to our destination. I begin to feel the onset- a light warmth radiating slowly from my core.

At last we have reached our destination. We are hanging around some large fire pits that people built in the woods. My friends have dosed now and are beginning to feel the onset of their respective substances while I’m on the long and steady comeup of mine. I’m stricken with a slight nausea and a visceral discomfort that has me frantically alternating between lying still and pacing around in an attempt to alleviate it. In my skin I feel a weird, sterile, hot dissociation.

Feeling stimmy- I have decided my course for the indefinite future will be pacing, as I am awash with hot energy. There is a much more marked discomfort in my guts- not even nausea but an odd sort of twisting pain. Mentally, I feel a bit of stimulated apprehension for what may prove to be an intense trip. I am plummeting into what is potentially a vigorous and dynamic storm.

That anxiety ends up being unfounded, as the come up proves itself to be continuously gentle and gradual, a slow climb up a shallow incline. It is like slowly lowering myself into a warm pool. No visuals to speak of yet, just this continuing sense of warmth in my body.

We have walked to our new destination- a little swamp some ways down the train tracks. I feel jovial, joking with my friends as they come up on their substances. I feel like I am reaching the top of this incline, peaking over the edge at the long plateau this drug is known for. The body load has mostly left me at this point, leaving only the glory of the trip to behold ahead of me. The clouds have broken and the sun is beaming through. The earlier fears about its intensity seem unfounded- the curtains of discomfort have been breached and it has extended a hand to gently lead me into the rest of the experience, a soft and comfortable place.

I am tripping harder now. We’re sitting on a bank by the pond and laughing and joking and smoking weed. The trip mostly feels cognitive- I am experiencing everything in an accelerated and mindful manner, existing purely in the present. It is at once alien and blissful. The visuals have made themselves apparent now, as subtle alterations and patterns, though they are still somewhat light and indistinct.

A great swell of tranquility has washed over me. My limbs are adrift like handfuls of iridescent dust thrown into a soft breeze. The summer air that settled like a blanket over the little pond has been stirred into tender swirls and currents that enshrine my limbs and hold me aloft. I float along hazily and ascend a tree limb that reaches out over the water bathed in the emerald green light reflecting off the abundant duckweed below. Lying on this limb, I am enveloped in the most immaculate comfort, as if this tree was made to perfectly fit the contours of my body, or vice versa.

My existence is adorned by the golden sunlight rocketing down from the glorious sky, imparting the eggshell clouds with a painterly quality. The fluttering and harmonious songs of birds dance between the blossoming and breathing trees and swathes of insects dance on the surface of the water, catching the rays of the sun and glowing like strings of Christmas lights. I close my eyes and sink into the world breathing and living around me, I become enveloped in its vitality and the respiration of every life form around me.

Radiating patterns swirl from the center of my vision, composed of triangles and glowing, pulsing lanes between them. These patterns are not particularly colorful or vibrant, rather they are neutral and earthy, a reflection of the deep earthiness I feel crawling up the tree branch like ivy and creeping into my core. Nature truly is not blissful or harmonious in any human sense- it is a cacophony of species destroying one another to survive, it is efficiency and brutality and perpetual fear for one’s own life. But there is beauty in that- beauty in how well adapted each organism is for its specific mode of survival, beauty in the way that some species depend on overcoming that, tranquility in knowing that every species is doing exactly as it is supposed to. It’s a feeling of acceptance that cannot be overcome, it’s the stoic and unrelenting harmony of nature. I feel grateful to be able to sink into it, to know how much life comes from so much suffering. The warmth of the sun, the fuel of this great chaotic and concordant engine, tickles my skin, lends its energy to my cells. I can only breathe in and out deeply, despite the earlier speediness I am entirely still, I sigh as a great warm smile stretches across my face- there is no place I would rather be than right here, right now.

We have steadily been running out of water. We brought a foolishly small amount with us. It is an incredibly hot summer day and the relentless beatdown of the sun in addition to our constant sweating has made us realize that we must retreat back to civilization soon. The others with me seem to be enjoying their experiences but they too have grown weary. One of them has become quite pale. We begin the trudge back to familiar territory. The entirety of the experience thus far has been very outrospective, I am not considering myself much, I am not anchored in my own thoughts and emotions. Rather it is flighty consideration of my surroundings, of the context I exist in and all of the moving and interlocking parts that compose my daily experiences. This is a good drug for appreciating the world.

At last, we have returned to a populated area. The visual effects of the trip are still relatively minor, beyond the world appearing like it’s being bathed in some holy golden light. We walk along the jogging trail, passing swathes of strangers. I do not feel uncomfortable around them in the least, even volunteering to take a picture of a family that was struggling to attempt a selfie. We pause next to the river and gaze out over the rippling surface of the water for some time. We are all so peaceful in this moment, subject to the beauty of the sun and the sky and the water, the beauty of so many people out enjoying themselves on such a glorious day, the beauty of the trees in full bloom and the clouds drifting lazily above and the city catching the sun’s light just down the trail. It’s such a wondrous moment and I am grateful that I got to be there with these people who I loved so much. We eventually continue walking, joking and laughing and talking the whole way, people watching and in general just taking in the sights and sounds around us. We miraculously come upon a person selling cold water bottles, truly our savior.

We have reached the center of the city now. I dip my bandana in a fountain to cool off and we collectively decide to walk the rest of the way home. The great sun still graces us with its blossoming presence as we continue our walk and take pleasure in each other’s company, picking mulberries from the trees. The feeling of being in exactly the right place still pervades.

We arrive home at last. One of my friends leaves to go back to his house because he has things to do later in the day. The rest of us lounge around and smoke a blunt. I am lying on my couch- I don’t think I have ever felt this comfortable. I sink into the cushions and they sink into me as the trip returns to a higher gear. My friends go out to get food, leaving me alone to take in the renewed experience. I stare at the ceiling and am greeted by a great, pointy, radiating floral pattern, adorned by overlapping scales at its outer edges, the entire array of forms pulsing with pastel colors.

The entire room appears hazy as these patterns dance and swirl above me, a lazy geometric ballet above my head, swimming in the summer heat. The hot breath of the mysterious forms cascades onto me like a warm rain, or the drool of some esoteric being. I am encapsulated by bliss, I sigh as even the shaking in my limbs feels calm and harmonious. I feel faint and foggy and it’s just fantastic. I am so glad I have such a nice comfortable place to shelter in, with air conditioning and the sort of lived-in mess that fills me with such deep feelings of comfort and belonging.

I intended to go to sleep around now, but to no avail. I have been staying up, suddenly finding myself wishing to passionately pursue all variety of tasks, including making myself food. It’s about 4 am now and I want to do everything, it’s the second wind to end all second winds. The visuals have seemingly been dying down but kick back up whenever I smoke weed. I keep distracting myself well into the morning.

Lying down and trying to sleep seems to kick things up even further, as I am now devoid of distractions. The trip sputters and leaks into my perception, an expression of relentlessly lingering psychedelic energy. Nonetheless, I don’t feel anxious or stressed in the least, rather this feeling is immaculately pleasant, I am overjoyed to be experiencing this still. I’m glad I have no obligations until late in the afternoon the next day. I’m not sure when or how, but I eventually fall asleep.

I woke up the next day feeling groggy and worn out, likely from all the walking with very little food.