Powder snorted- it is chalky with an odor of naphtha and burning rubber. There is an instant searing pain. My eyes water, it stings like an acrid petroleum spear up my nose. Thankfully it’s a small quantity of powder but damn is it unpleasant.

Rapid onset, feeling a bit faint and dizzy, fingertips numb, it’s a warm and sweaty numbness washing over me reminiscent of nitrite inhalants (poppers). A marked cognitive dissociation has already set in, creeping up on me unannounced. The passage of time suddenly strikes me as an alien and novel concept, its passage tracked through the music I’m listening to. It strikes me as odd that parts of the song will be sensed by me and then disappear forever, even though this is my default state of experiencing anything.

My head is empty yet very heavy. It is full of warm, wet syrup, smothering my attachments to this world, leaving me feeling distant.

I am so dizzy all of a sudden. A powerful spinning dizziness seems to be a remarkable early symptom of ingesting this drug, moreso than any other dissociative I’ve tried. It is a sense of suddenly being very drunk or trying to walk on a violently rocking boat. The drip begins to travel down the back of my throat, acrid and gross and burning most of the way down.

I get up to get some water and my movement is extremely uncoordinated. I have a very hard time standing up straight or walking in a straight line, having to hold onto objects as I walk past. It is interesting to be so heavily incapacitated just 10 minutes into the experience. This doesn’t feel like the loss of coordination and equilibrium that comes with the full-body anesthesia of other dissociatives- rather this just feels like my limbs are not behaving how I want them to. I am still certainly aware of my body and the space it occupies.

I still feel warm, relatively, but a sudden chill runs up my spine, through my bones, not like a biting wind on a frigid winter night but like a cold stone that’s been sitting in a dreary rain. I feel queasy, wavy, nauseous, blissful, and a bit itchy and warm at my joints. My breathing feels slower and shallower. I have limited experience with opioids but this is fairly reminiscent of them.

The experience intensifies by the second, and as time ticks down I feel that initial warmth drain away bit by bit. There is stimulation and mania running through my mind, I am thinking so much about nothing in particular, my thoughts don’t feel especially profound or useful, it’s just a machine running faster than it is supposed to. Physically I feel absolutely still, almost corpselike- as mentioned before, I am not rendered immobile by a full anesthesia. It is certainly not a hole, but a different sort of sedation, there is simply zero desire to move. Everything feels jilted out of place and all I can do is watch. There is a certain joviality and euphoria to it as it continues to build and build and as I continue to sink and sink, it is like riding a speeding boat and catching the cold spray and whipping wind with my face. Exhilarating. I really don’t know what to do with this body, it feels excessive, heavy and unnecessary. So warm yet so cold at the same time. I flick my lighter on and after letting it run for a bit, press the hot metal on my skin, curious about how numb my body is becoming. My reflexive response to the stimulus is certainly reduced. Go figure.

Perhaps the other most noteworthy physical feature is how soft the numbness is-my fingertips feel spongy, or like they are sheathed in undulating clouds, squishing into my body with each keystroke.

Though there has been a constant acceleration, there is now a sudden and greater rush, like some great intangible weight smothering my face. The building rush of some dissociatives can sometimes feel like sticking my head in a stream of cold rushing water. This however, is like a lazy outflow from thermal spring, warm and gentle but with an undeniable force behind it. This builds and builds though, from a trickle to a flash flood, gobsmacking me upside the head. I am steady and still and unwavering in the face of its power, it feels like the only thing I can do. The rush of say, 3-MeO-PCP, has a biting edge, a sparkling energy. This has a similar degree of crackling flame behind it, but it is slower, softer, smoother.

There are pulsing waves of flashing visuals, subtle but apparent, like refreshment bands running the length of an old TV screen. There are spots and blotches in regular hexagonal tessellated patterns slowly and quietly blooming where I can hardly notice them. With my eyes closed I am greeted by nothing but a blue darkness.

There are clouds streaming out of my skull, towers and pillars, soft and gooey and ever expanding, I feel like I am fading more and more by the second. Such energy courses through my nerves, but it is cold and still , not a manic electrical storm, but a wad of ball lightning.

Ultimately I would still say this is quite similar to 3-MeO-PCP- similar in terms of overall lucidity and mental stimulation, but with a heavy streaming dissociation running through my extremities, and less of a pointed rush.

I go outside to check a light sheet I have set up- this is a trap used in entomology where a bright light (in this case a UV light) is shone at a white cloth to reflect it at night, attracting large numbers of nocturnal insects. I love insects so much. It doesn’t feel like I’ve stepped outside, just into a larger inside. Everything feels so distant, yet at the same time unreasonably flat and close. Exerting myself makes it feel hard to breathe, the sky is heavy and my limbs are heavy, the night is gentle and distant. I trip over my feet just walking a short distance outside. The world is spinning around me and I cannot really figure out how to place my feet. I feel shorter than I really am. I am a bit nauseous. It is hard to focus or examine the insects, which I can normally readily spot ID. They are blurry and indistinct unless I really close one eye and focus on them, and the subtle strobing of my entire field of vision only makes it more disorienting. Some stand out- some large moths, a giant water bug, a great wolf spider stalking the grass. I go back inside after a short while.

It is still getting stronger by the second, visuals flash with deeper and deeper contrast, my body feels melty, not entirely melty but melty for something so lucid and functional. Every movement is stuck in syrup, but just a little bit. It’s hard to move, my limbs just feel heavy and I feel no desire to do anything exciting with them. When I close my eyes the visuals are faint and stationary, no specific forms or images stand out beyond broad bands of dull colors. I am developing a double vision that is making it increasingly difficult to read. I find I can read better with one eye closed.

The experience kicks up in squalls, sudden raging swirling gales, blowing in swells of dissociative fog, blurring and smudging everything they drag their nebulous forms across. I keep drifting off, my eyelids keep sinking shut, my default directive seems to be to just sit here and drool on myself. My mind is awake and active, buzzing away and trying its best to process the disjointed and subdued information it is receiving- my body wants no part of such energy however. I am lazy and sitting in a warm swirling cloud, my head is a big mass of cotton candy spinning from a blue-grey abyss, it is no longer a rush but a constant pressure, building and building by the minute, though it is resolutely comfortable and pleasant.

I feel so disoriented, cold metal bars spring from my skull and encase my body before turning to liquid and drifting away with the relentless wind. I am wrapped in plastic, I am spinning and sinking. What am I even to do? I have just been sitting still listening to music, it is hard to engage in other tasks. I feel quite nauseous which is uncharacteristic for dissociatives for me. This is static and draining and powerful. My breathing still feels shallow- I would exercise caution with pushing this one towards any higher doses.

The experience seems to have capped off- the steady pressure and gentle but definite acceleration have all slowed- the spinning and whipping clouds and dense masses of wind have had the life breathed out of them, they now are carried along only by their momentum. My motor control is still messy, it is still hard to walk properly. I go out and look at my bug light again- all sorts of beetles and an interesting wasp have taken up residence. I smoke a few hits of cannabis while I’m out. The stars glisten in the sky above, great masses of them clustered together into a great sparkling dance, the darkness of space twisting and undulating. It’s a beautifully clear yet humid night. This doesn’t feel particularly manic or energetic- I wish I could just flop down on the grass and gaze into the sky but it’s all wet.

My brain is jelly, I am probing into depths I shouldn’t be, my brain feels like melted ice cream, when I nod out and close my eyes I am still greeted by the same dull fields and pulses of color. I am reading stuff on the internet but I am not really taking it in, there is no urge or desire to dive into it or read more. The information just bounces off my glassy eyes. My teeth feel heavy and wet and soft.

I decide to turn out my lights and listen to music on my bed with a blindfold on. This is usually an exhilarating activity to do while on dissociatives- It can feel like a roller coaster or a vibrant twisting ride into another realm- this however is much more nondescript. I’m still here, on my bed, and I am acutely aware of that the entire time. Instead of a roller coaster I am quietly and gently sailing down a warm viscous river, my field of vision just some quiet color splotches. I try to meditate, to think about memories or dreams, as that often serves as an analytical jumping off point for streams of adventures into the subconscious with other dissociatives. While I would consider this a fairly intense experience, it yields nothing to me in that regard- it crosses its arms and purses its lips and keeps its secrets. Or perhaps it has none to share at all. I would certainly regard this as shallow, an experience grounded more in sensation than in cognition. Lying still on my extra soft mattress pad feels extravagant though. This is a drug for doing things, for enhancing other experiences, for socializing or dancing or just relaxing under some heavy air. It is not the kind of dissociative that is exploratory in its own right, at least not for me.

After only trying for a short time to sink into the depths of the experience, I decide to go back to what I was doing before, which was nothing while gazing at a computer screen. My toes and fingers are still very numb and feel like they are made of soft mud. Everything is decelerating and cooling down now, there is a definite comedown. I am still pretty uncoordinated when I try to move, but it is more manageable than before. The peak has certainly passed at this point.

Motor skills returning more and more. I can walk in a straight line for the most part, though I will occasionally stumble. Well into the afterburn now. There are flashes of visuals playing in the white of my laptop screen. The double vision is fusing back into one now.

Nothing feels quite real, It’s all still cold and weird. The cognitive dissociation lingers. It’s not the sort of empty neutrality that certain substances present though- it’s something brighter, warmer, more pleasant, but ultimately alienating and confusing. So many basic and familiar things seem foreign now, I feel like I have to make a conscious effort to adjust back to the world of sobriety.

A glowy dizzy drunky feeling, not sharp or manic, a bit of residual stimulation run through my mind and exits quietly in my muscles as some fidgeting and twitching. I would still broadly characterize this drug as a depressant though, at least physically.

I go out to socialize with my roommates, they are watching Seinfeld in the living room. We are all currently under isolation because two of us were exposed to someone who was COVID positive. Talking feels weird and distant, I haven’t attempted to say anything out loud this entire experience so far and now it feels like I’m stumbling on my words as much as I was stumbling on my own feet. I thought I had come down pretty far, that I was inching back towards sobriety, but being around other people made me realize how distant I really was. I am not entirely sure what I am even saying, the words aren’t properly registering in my memory. I am tossing them blindly into the void, hoping they are coherent. My roommates really truly look like I am viewing them on a screen, entirely divorced from their actual presence. This is kind of scary- it makes me feel like I may not realize the full weight of social consequences, that I may not properly regulate or moderate what I am saying. I am truly treading water over some deep depths. I go outside and grab a giant water bug to show them. Talking about an insect I love helps to ground me and feel more in touch, along with coming down more as time passes. After about half an hour I feel like I am socializing normally, better than normal in fact. I take them outside to show them what came to the light sheet and talk about bugs with them, this also helps to ground me. We turn the light off and pack it in, the darkness is heavy and swallowing. They go to bed.

I feel mostly down by this point. The experience is only present when I stop and think about it.

Still feeling a bit numb and off balance, but otherwise pretty close to baseline. There is a subtle euphoric afterglow that I am not 100% certain I can attribute to the drug but it is definitely there.

Mostly just feel tired and sedated and a bit dizzy still. Lying still and doing nothing feels like a sacred activity.

Back to baseline