Insufflated, slight sting.

Onset. Bitter drip comes in, not as bad at some things I’ve had. Chills run through me.

My mouth becomes locked in a toothy grin. I feel the rushing euphoria of the coming trip. I’m chatting with people online, I slowly grow more incoherent, losing my associations with words, and it is slowly becoming harder to understand others. I feel cold and numb, with some nausea and burgeoning ataxia. The word feels like its floating away, its mooring lines snapping and tangling around my face. I feel uninhibited.

The heavy dissociation breaks over and washes over me like a storm surge. My head feels like its turning into a form of stacked rectangular blocks. Words are beginning to lift and float off the screen. My hands typing feels automatic, like I have a word in my mind and my hands just act it out without me even noticing. It feels like I am being peeled out of my body and slowly rising. Time is moving more slowly and the world feels smaller. I then feel as though I’m made of interlocking triangles. My entire view of the world flattens and it feels like everything is in relief.

My visual perspective, my literal point of view, has shifted. I feel like I am underwater, it is the same sort of weightlessness and slowed movement. I feel like I am being tossed around by undersea currents. The closed eye visuals are starting to become vivid-hundreds of eyes, large pink and blue arthropods that resemble spiders and centipedes, swirling waves of green and red. My sense of proprioception is gone, with my eyes closed I cannot even tell which hand is left or right. My head feels very heavy, and it feels like I have a tight hat or headband wrapped around my head.

I begin to think about people with my eyes closed, I see the silhouettes of those who come into my mind, their colorful essences rising from their body like a smoky aura. Memory begins to become an absurd concept, it feels like I am feeling all of my thoughts and feelings at once, that they are laid out before me for me to sort through. New ones do not form sequentially but merely arise in this grand mess, memory in terms of some sort of chronology suddenly fades to nothing.

(linear time kinda falls apart after this)- The world dissolves into pixels, I feel as though I am being pulled by strings like a marionette. I am almost entire anesthetized, the anesthesia feels like fingers gripping and wrapping around me, crawling onto and clutching my face. The closed eye visuals continue to become intense, one visual was a fractalized hand, with a hand on the end of each fingers, repeating into infinity. They vary between being concrete and abstract, another was a red and maroon rushing hyperspace tunnel, a big droopy web in the center of my field of vision. I can feel a bitter cold fire raging in my core. With my eyes open. Everything is shrouded in maroon and green auras. Objects warp and drift and bubble at their edges.

I close my eyes again and it definitely feels like I am in a hole. The MXE hole is characterized by shifting through all variety of places and experiences, it’s like on grand adventure in my head, it’s like inducing dream, with a numbing feeling to my body, a semi-lucid dream spawned from my aesthetic pleasures. My entire existence reduced to a six pointed star, It feels like my body has turned to putty and is being stretched and pulled and rolled in various ways. Or like I am a slick of oil on the surface of a rushing and warbling river. Or it feels like I am just stuck to the blade of a perpetually spinning fan. Or that I am on a train. One of the most common and pleasant is the feeling of being encased in a chamber, and them flying through outer space, it is this essence of flying, my body’s sense of balance and position adjusted accordingly. My entire frame of existence is being shaken and stirred.

Almost all these feelings involve a sense of being weightless or underwater, and this persistent feeling of being sprayed in the face with a hose, but it’s a very warm and numbing stream. I also feel like I am buzzing and vibrating the entire time. At another point I find myself floating in a body of water, towering structures around me, made of interlocking green tendrils under a pulsing blue sun in a black sky. I think about friendship, and how wonderful friends are, and am filled with this glowing warmth and desire for overwhelming platonic relationships. Hm. I feel like I am being deposited like sediment in a turbulent river. It feels like I am being encased in a great warping metal. I have begun to tap into my dream memories, a recurring occurrence with dissociatives. The closed eye space has been primarily taken over by these green tendrils forming into fantastic creatures, sometimes to my will.

I am starting to come down. Closed eyes no longer give me total dissociation or a hole feeling. I can feel the floodgates opening and my depression trickling back in. In my body, there is still this sense of sinking down and down. Everything sounds far away and indistinct and in that mess of noise I can hear jumbled and mumbled voices. The world feels like a pen drawing, value defined by crosshatching, and everything with an outline. While my closed eye visuals tone down, this was a really cool open eyed effect to have on the comedown. The Ataxia is still incredibly strong.

I am coherent and functional again, but still very wobbly and out of it. I feel ashamed. This was a Monday night, I feel like I could’ve been doing something more productive, instead of tripping alone in my room on a bare impulse, or out of some compulsion to have an experience that I record. But who is to define what is productive? Nevertheless I still feel a great sense of shame.

I interact with my roommate, talking is awkward, I feel like my tone and voice are coming off as alien, like some being trying to imitate human inflection.

Mostly down by now. I go to bed.