Category Archives: Drugs

Recreational drugs, and user experiences.

The Backwards Journey

Recently my friend Tim Jordan wrote on Facebook about his friend Joe. According to Tim, Joe was an unmedicated paranoid schizophrenic, the type who ends up so deep within the thralls of their mental illness, they forego their medication, they believe everyone is out to get them – except for Tim in Joe’s case. The mini biography that Tim wrote about his friend Joe was both sad and touching, and I wanted to share it with anyone who may cross paths with this post.

Tim’s story goes as so:

Sometimes I would be driving past this one particular park with my friend Joe the Unmedicated Paranoid Schizophrenic and he’d be like, “Hey dude, do you want to go raise the devil?” and point down the road into the park because apparently it was the best spot in town to conjure up the Father of Lies and I would always say, “Nah, man. Let’s just focus on getting this weed and then go back home and smoke it up.”

Then he’d be all, “Okay that’s cool man. One day though, right?”

“Yeah dude. One day for sure, Joe.”

Another time I was with Joe in his apartment, and he was operating, at that time, under the particular delusion that he was a 2000 year old monk. We watched a lot of good Kung fu movies at that time, and he was gathering a lot of cheesy Kung fu magazines that we enjoyed looking through. Yes, magazines were still pretty relevant then. It was sometime in the early aughts, as the cool kids say.

So anyway he ordered this cheap Shaolin monk garb and it arrived while I was there. I watched him put it on with a great deal of excitement. Finally, after 2000 years he was getting back in the groove.

After getting everything on he immediately threw this high kick that was pretty impressive, but also unfortunately absolutely ripped the ass out of his monk pants.

It was hilarious, but I absolutely could not laugh because Joe could be volatile and I really wanted to stay on his good side. Which made it even more hilarious. I had to make an excuse to run over to my apartment real quick so I could laugh in peace.

But then, there was that other time that Joe casually mentioned he started to burn down his building, but only changed his mind when he worried that my apartment was too close, and might catch on fire too.

Then, there was a period of time where Joe was convinced that he could get his magic powers back, if he just straightened his spine; so he built this medieval torture device looking thing that he could hang from while wearing a helmet. Sometimes I would come over, and he’d just be swinging from that thing, and carry on a conversation like it was something everyone did.

Then, he became convinced that if he ate enough rice that it would fill up his esophagus, and straighten his spine. He already had a giant pot of rice made.

So I asked him, “Are you saying you’re going to eat all that rice to the point where your stomach fills up and it backs up into your throat? Like, I could look into your mouth and see the rice poking out back there?”

“Yep,” he said. “Want some?”

“No thanks, Joe”

I watched that pot of rice slowly turn to rot over the next few months. Just like everything else in his apartment.

Before Joe completely succumbed to his mental illness, he had what I thought was the greatest job ever. He was contracted by a third party to manage all the arcades at Carrowinds, our local amusement park.

He got paid all year round, even when the park was closed, but he had to work just about every day in the summer when it was open. He used to sneak me in the park sometimes when he was working.

He was great with kids. If he saw someone having a bad time he would give them free games and prizes. Like those remote control cars and boats are kind of tricky to learn. He’d teach the kids how to drive then better with a few free games.

He was the best.

Sometimes in the winter when the park was closed we’d drive over and into the park. We’d smoke a blunt in the car and he would drive all through the park on the walkways, etc. It was wild.

Then he’d open up some arcades and we’d smoke some more and play free games for hours.

Joe was the best.

Then there was the day Joe told me he had to smoke crack to make the voices in his head go away.

Over time we went through this backwards journey with technology. We started with a PlayStation 3. Then he sold it to his brother.

So then, for a while, we had a Super Nintendo. We played a lot of baseball. He didn’t have many games. I sucked at that baseball game. Then he sold it too.

Eventually we were sitting in his dark apartment because he had no power, playing this handheld baseball game straight out of the 1980s. I was better at that baseball game.

Sometimes Joe would be waiting for me, on the steps outside my door when I came home from work. I was not always happy to see him. By this time most of what he spoke was nonsense, and I had usually had a shitty day renting tuxedos and dealing with a terrible boss. Oddly enough he would act pretty normal around my wife Alice.

I tried to keep most of the crazy from her. Joe was getting thinner and we’d feed him. He didn’t trust food from anyone else anymore.

We fell into this pattern where I spent an hour or so with him, listening to him ramble on about conspiracies. One minute he would be Jesus, the next the devil.

Once he told me that he was trying to get political asylum from China. Turned out he was telling the truth there. He was emailing a lot of craziness to people.

After an hour or so of sitting in the dark in his filthy apartment I would go home, get high, and try to decompress.

My escape was Dark Age of Camelot. I role played in that game. I created my own little world there, and everything else just faded away for a while.

Joe was going to be evicted soon.

I had no idea what to do.

Listen, I’m no saint here.

Joe lived in the same apartment complex. He knew when I was home and I couldn’t avoid him if I wanted to. I didn’t want to make him mad, or think I had betrayed him some how.

He’d already attacked his dad with a crowbar.

All his family lived here too, but they abandoned him when he got sick. His mother used to call ME and I would beg her to go see him. I got mad at her once and told her she was just going to let him die, that this wasn’t going to end well.

I was as scared of him as much as I loved him. We had a spare bedroom and he knew this, but I also knew I couldn’t let him in.

I just couldn’t trust him. I couldn’t put Alice in danger, but I felt like I was failing him.

I think at times Joe was the loneliest man on the face of the Earth.

Then an old friend stepped in. He could take Joe but he lived in Virginia. I helped Joe pack, bought him a new tire for his junker car.

I also tried to warn the friend, but I knew he couldn’t quite grasp what Joe was going through.

Joe’s last night in Charlotte, he slept in our spare bedroom. I kept a bat by the bed and didn’t sleep. Joe was my best friend, but I couldn’t trust him not to snap and do something horrible.

I felt like I was betraying him.

Saying goodbye was horrible but also a huge relief. I felt guilty about that. Still do. If I could have done more for him I would.

But I wasn’t doing so well then either. Watching Joe change and disintegrate right before my eyes had taken a toll on me.

Joe stayed in Virginia for about a month. Things got far worse. One night I’m playing Dark Age Of Camelot and the friend calls. He says:

“Joe killed my cats. My neighbor saw him and called the cops and he’s on the run. The only place I think he would go is straight to you.

Oh, and on a side note, someone from the Secret Service came by and took all of our computers. Joe was writing threatening letters to the president.”

Alice and I stayed at her brother’s house that night. The next morning I have to go to work and before I even open the store I can hear our phone ringing.

It was Joe. He wanted to meet me on my lunch break. I worked in the mall and thought if there’s anywhere I can do this and probably not die it’s going to be here.

I told him of course I’d meet him. And I would buy him lunch.

He was so thin when I saw him but he ate the burger and fries I bought for him. He was twitchy and paranoid and probably on crack or something else.

This was my best friend. My last best friend and he was just a husk of the Joe I knew. He casually told me that he killed the cats because “they were talking” to him. I had to just eat my fries and nod. Thankfully he told me nothing more about it.

He told me that he was going to Charleston and work on a fishing boat. I wished him well, gave him the few dollars I had on me, and hugged him tight. He hugged back, and we just stood there in the food court, hugging each other for a long time.

That was the last time I ever saw Joe. I got a few updates over the next few weeks from my weed man. Joe had hooked up with some mutual friends down there.

Those updates were never good.

I used to dream about Joe a lot after he was gone and in these dreams he was right about all the delusions that he’d held.

He raged across the Earth like a demigod and he KNEW. He knew I had never believed him, that I was just humoring him and wishing that he’d be “normal” again. He was disappointed in me. Angry with me. I had nowhere to hide from him.

Then one night I had a dream where I came upon Joe sitting calmly in a tree. He thanked me for being his friend and disappeared.

I don’t think I’ve ever dreamed of him since. I don’t have any pictures of him. It gets harder and harder to recall his face.

His mother hired a private detective to find him after the messages from the weed guy stopped coming. The detective found a record of a speeding ticket in Charleston. Nothing else

I was at my wit’s end, Joe had vanished and I was desperate enough to go to a psychic who told me he was dead. She told me he was in the Pisgah National Forest.

He had talked about going there a lot. He wanted to live there. Then again he also said he had a mansion there with a gigantic Boulder of crack. Who knows.

I went on the Doe Project, a database for unidentified bodies, and found one in the Pisgah National Forest that did kinda match. I tried to contact his mom but years had passed at this point and I couldn’t find her number.

It’s probably not him but I try to be a realist about these things.

Joe is either in jail (he’s not though, I’ve checked), committed somewhere, or dead.

I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.

I still have a cell phone with my same number from back then. If he’s alive he would have found me by now. Or I him.

Joe was the last. I can’t do that again. I have IRL (in real life) friends and they are fabulous but I can’t take any more in. That was enough for me.

Mostly I live on the internet anyway.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this. I did not mean to do this tonight but it’s been a decade and I still mourn Joe.

I started mourning him before he even left. The Joe I knew died a long time ago.

Tim’s story put a lump in my throat, and accentuated the way his friend Joe affected his life with untreated mental illness, going from being relatively benign, to dominating the entirety of his personality and actions . I sincerely hope Tim gets closure on his friend one of these days.

In the near future I would love to write more of these stories, about people who have influenced peoples lives, both good and bad. Check back soon to see what I can come up with.

Song Rundown – China Girl, by Iggy Pop/David Bowie

This is my first article in some time, and it comes in the days after David Bowie’s untimely and very unfortunate death from terminal cancer. As I have been oversaturating myself with David Bowie music, I’ve been taking particular notice of the lyrics to the song China Girl.

When I first heard this song several years ago, I just assumed he had met a nice Chinese girl on one of his tours and formed a relationship with her. Only after looking into it more did I realise it was actually an Iggy Pop cover (of which David Bowie makes shine). It was also around this time I had a lung collapse and was given a tonne of IV morphine while they reinflated my lung. I’ve also been on prescription painkillers for a good deal of years. Now the song started making sense. The lyrics to the song are very clearly speaking about heroin.

Let’s start with the first two verses:

I could escape this feeling, with my China Girl
I feel a wreck without, my little China Girl
I hear her heart beating loud as thunder
When I look at my China Girl.

I’m a mess without my little China girl
Wake up in the morning, where’s my little China girl?
I hear her heart’s beating loud as thunder
Saw these stars crashing down

Heroin, also known as China White is an addictive substance that once stopped constant intake of, causes withdrawal symptoms. He is feeling a wreck, and in the second verse, a mess, without his little China girl. Heroin addiction can cause a rush of anticipation when a user knows they’re about to take another hit. Heroin addiction can also cause high blood pressure and increased heart rate, or palpitations when in withdrawal, hearing her heartbeat could be his heart not beating in proper rhythm.

Obviously, waking up in the morning after being high the night before, in the starting throes of withdrawal will have you searching for your drugs.

The stars crashing is the feeling of IV opiates making their way to the brain. Vision goes black and you “see stars” as it returns. In this instance however, he has not yet taken a dose. This feeling could allude to a sense of dread or depression at sobering up.

The third verse:

I feel tragic like I’m Marlon Brando
When I look at my China girl
I could pretend that nothing really meant too much
When I look at my China girl

Feeling like Marlon Brando could mean he’s either feeling sorry for himself, or perhaps guilty. He is in the grip of an addiction, and isn’t sure how to pull himself away, he has drugs, he’s not going to just throw them away. He doesn’t care about anything else except getting his high. Nothing else means anything at that point. He must quench his ‘thirst’.

I stumble into town just like a sacred cow
Visions of swastikas in my head
Plans for everyone
It’s in the white of my eyes

We will assume he took his heroin for this verse, everything is brighter, everything feels better, all is good.  Here I believe he feels bulletproof, he’s high and he’s king of the world. Some users inject into the whites of their eyes, but here I believe he’s in such ecstasy that his eyes have rolled back into his head. He’s probably lying on the floor off his face.

My little China girl you shouldn’t mess with me
I’ll ruin everything you are
You know I’ll give you television, I’ll give you eyes of blue
I’ll give you a man who wants to rule the world

This verse seems to talk about his constant use of the drug. The drug is addicting him, and he’s going to ruin the fantastic, fun, feel-good high by being addicted fully to it. To a constant user, shooting up is more like relief rather than feeling a high, causing frequent users to continually “chase the dragon” or up their doses looking for that “first rush” again. This often leads to an overdose.

And when I get excited
My little China girl says
“Oh baby, just you shut your mouth”
She says, “Shh.”

He’s in bliss and stupefied. Any higher and he’ll be dead. His heart rate has slowed, he can’t talk, just feel great. This could be after a second dose, or he could have overdosed.

If anyone has other ideas, feel free to drop a comment.

10 Days on Diclofensine, A Brief Rundown

Quite a while back I purchashed a 1 gram sample of Diclofensine (not to be confused with Diclofenac, which is an entirely different drug all together) – an SNDRI (triple reuptake inhibitor) stimulant/antidepressant. I wrote a 10 day report on my use of the drug, and entirely forgot about it, until I stumbled across it. I decided that it’s probably worth publishing since there is very little information about the drug on the internet. I documented my use and stored it in a notepad as I was intending on cleaning it up and publishing it, but never got around to it. So today, I have polished it up, and will post it here.

Diclofensine – Report of Use

Day 1- 25mg followed by…nothing. Increased dose to 50mg about an hour later and to 75 an hour after that. Felt nothing. Had trouble sleeping, even after Doxylamine + Promethazine.

Day 2- 30mg. Still not feeling anything. Will continue like this for about a week and see if I can obtain any amphetamine, seeing as the drug is a SNDRI.

Day 3 – 44mg. Still not feeling anything. Feeling a massive down tho, probably due to the SSRI and SNRI effects of the drug. Hoping constant application of the drug will cause improvement in mood.

[I do not remember drinking alcohol that night, but the hangover would most likely be from that. I probably did not document that due to the fact that I was incapable of comprehensibly updating the page.]

Day 4 – 40mg with 5mg heavily cut phenazepam. Doubt the phenazepam made a difference. Had a hangover all day. havent noticed the diclofensine yet.

Day 5 – Still nothing noticeable. Took 45mg.

Day 6 – 45mg again. Feeling normal SSRI effects of the drug. Thoughts,  and emotions are becoming numb. Ignoring people because my feelings for them are muted. Isolating myself from other people.

Day 7 – 45mg  – I find smoking a cigar, taking pregabalin or other drugs makes me slightly more social but this drug makes me want to withdraw. Forcing social effects is difficult unless other drugs are involved. Probably have about 7 days of the drug left. Not ordering more. Going to wean myself off with duloxetine, and then stop taking antidepressants entirely. Abuse potential for this drug has yet to be seen.

Day 8 – 55mg – feeling fairly depressed today and im not sure why. Didnt take the drug for about 36 hours after the previous dose though, which may explain it. Althought it seems to be going away, I still feel remnants of depression.

Day 9 – slept all day and most of the night. Felt depressed until dosing with the drug. Feeling a slight dependence to it, but I’m also realising my concentration levels have increased dramatically.

Day 10 – final dose. Nothing spectacular happened after taking almost 100 mg of it. The drug is residual for several days afterwards.  Causes my norepinepherine to massively spike without an NRI present. Finished drug, started duloxetine.

In conclusion, this drug is useful if you’re in need of a good antidepressant that can also help with low dopamine levels. However, it is not particularly useful in its job. Possibly a larger sample with a longer time frame could have given me more data to work with. Unfortunately obtaining this drug is reasonably expensive, and thus getting several grams of it to fully test it would be costly and probably not worth it. It is unfortunate that the testing and use of the drug was not completed by the medical scientists responsible for the creation of the drug, as it would be interesting to see a detailed report on the effects of such a drug.

And there we have it, my report on the drug. Unfortunately I can not remember more of my experience as it was taken about 7 months before this article. I can’t say I recommend taking this drug, but I also think that it really could be useful if taken for the right reasons. Note that this is a research chemical and may cause all sorts of body problems, as it has not been fully lab tested. Buy and use this drug at your own risk. That is all.


A Thousand Pills.

A thousand pills and counting.
seeking sanctuary of an altered reality
time moves slowly, chemical reactions create a new life
reality is out of grasp
silent creeping sobriety sets in
despise everything you’ve let yourself become
A chemical distraction, fade into darkness
spare yourself from light.
the light that burns like a raging fire.
reality out of grasp again
make your way through fantasy
an alternate reality; forget who you are
sink into ignorance. bliss in which is found.
Two thousand pills and counting.

The Hornet’s Sting – A Chronicle

Finding myself in a position of having too much money, and too little to lose, I parted way with a few reds and met up with a delicious little number dubbed by myself as “Hornet”. 4-HO-MET, or 4-hydroxy-N-methyl-N-ethyltryptamine – a tasty little chemical string that is synthesized into psilocin – the chemical found in naturally occuring mushrooms of the psilocybin variety. My experience/s with this chemical are as follows:

Monday, 17th May 2010: Deliverance.

4pm – Open package containing sample, eyeball about 20mg, lick finger, stick into powder, then straight into the mouth. Blech, bitter disgusting fucking shit. Washed down with some coca-cola it really sticks around for 15-20 minutes. Licking my lips it remains around my mouth and in my ‘stache a little. Effects creep up slowly, excitement grows, however effects are quite mute and only barely noticeable. The computer monitor is breathing almost. Eyesight is cloudy, like I’ve taken an excessive amount of codeine. I don’t feel particularly lively, but I am quite happy and alert.

6pm, I lick my finger and poke it back into the sample and consume another 7-15mg. Rapid onset bolsters first dose, but barely. I get a little giggly with this. Monitor continues to breathe. I notice this even after I come down off the drug, and it’s 8 hours later.

Verdict: Drug seems non-potent. I wonder if it’s because I constantly dose myself with Tramadol, a known 5ht (serotonin) agonist, and norepinepherine reuptake inhibitor. It’s then and there I decide to abstain from taking tramadol, to observe the effects of the ‘Hornet’.

Wednesday, 19th May 2010:

Once again, around 6pm, I lick my finger and dip it into the sample. Unsure of dose, probably 10-20mg or so. Decide to order precision scale set online. Bitterness like the first time, yet somehow worse makes me gag. I wash the chemicals down with a good litre or so of coca-cola. Tongue is a little numb on the tip. A whole lot of nothing happens this time, apart from codeine-like vision haze. I consider taking more, but don’t. Remaining chem is about 1/3rd of what I had to start off with. Decide to wait til the weekend to take the last dose in one hit.

Saturday, 23rd May, 2010: Still Stings, These Shattered Nerves

Well, 3rd day of my experience, and by far the most remarkable. This day the chemical opened my mind to its true nature – the hornets sting. Tonight was the night I was going to take my largest single dose of Hornet, and I just so happened to be going to a poker night with some mates. At this point in time I’ve been awake for nearly 34 hours, kept stimulated by large doses of caffeineated energy drinks, and a somewhat unhappy stomach.

6:25pm – My friend messages to tell me he’ll be picking me up at 7. Cool I think, I have about an hour til the drug kicks in, so I might aswell take it, and then take a shit before I go out. I swallow a precautionary 10mg metaclopramide (for anti-nausea, and possibly anti-emetic qualities as needed – little did I realise that this would increase my gut problems). I up-end the sample bag onto my hand, and tap every last mg out. I lick the powder which is even more bitter than before. It takes several licks to get all the powder off my hands, each horrible bitter lick aided by a swig of Coca-Cola. I then tear the bag apart and lick the plastic clean of powder. This I remark to someone online, must look very desperate, however, I wished to just get as much of the chemical into me as possible. Swigging the rest of the bottle of Coke, I say farewell to my internet friends, and head to the toilet for a pre-night-out shit.

6:35pm – Sitting on the toilet emptying my stomach out, I sit with a crossword puzzle in a magazine, and start to resume where I left off with it last time. About 4-5 minutes into my shit, I start feeling my vision is getting heavy, and as I did not think the Hornet would be taking effect yet, I put it down to tiredness, exhaustion and caffeine intake. 4-5 crossword answers put in, and I start to notice my mental acuity decreasing, and my ability to fill spaces with synonyms becomes reasonably difficult. The crossword is starting to warp a little bit like if I was starting to get a migraine headache with a heavy visual aura.

6:40pm – Looking around me, the walls start to get more orange under the reasonably dim light. I hear the sound of indian instruments, possibly filtering in from a background source (I believe a TV in another room was on). The walls are starting to spin, throb, bleed, and blend together. At this point I begin to mentally talk to myself – Am I fatigued and passing out? Am I getting a migraine? ….Could the Hornet actually be kicking in? No, I tell myself, Don’t be silly. But the effects remain. I look at my watch. Normal. The only thing that isn’t spinning and changing. I stare at it, and see the minute had very slightly move every few seconds. Fuck. I am definitely starting to trip. And only after 20 minutes? What the fuck is going on? I start to try and hurry myself up a bit. The walls are starting to really blot, like fresh ink running over parchment. This is one thing I get as a first-onset symptom of LSD, and this is how I know it is most definitely the drug.

6:50pm – I finish up, and unsteadily, uncomfortably stand up. Automation takes hold, and I flush the toilet, spray deodouriser, and exit the toilet. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the tap. Leaning forward I look into my own eyes. My pupils are dilated so much that there is barely any of the iris showing, the pupil is just about the entire centre of the eye. This is not particularly surprising to me, and I wash my hands and stiff-legged walk into the livingroom. The TV is on, Funniest Home Videos plays on it, and the dining room light is on, but there is no one around. I take several paces up and down the living area and thru the kitchen, stopping to peer outside and down the driveway. The house feels very comforting, and much like I feel when I visit my grandparents house – a sense of warm familiarity. I am reminded of family Christmas.

6:55pm – I walk outside and under the cover of the pergola. There is reasonably windy showers expected, and I pace back and forth under the pergola, while feeling very shamanistic and almost at one with the earth and nature. I walk around the side of the house and into my room, and sit at my computer to report that the drug had kicked in to a friend online. I sit down and I start to hear a high-pitched, fast-sped giggling, like chipmunks talking. I also hear high pitched twanging music, which resonates after about every noise I hear. My computer monitor is a mess of colours like looking at it with a beaded curtain in the way, the chat window swirls and breathes. Surprisingly I can still manage to communicate online. My keyboard muscle memory remains, nearly unchallenged. My glasses become a window of which my monitor becomes another windows through. In the peripheral of my vision I see the characters from the original series of Star Trek – posing as if on the front of a DVD boxset. If I focus, I see only what is actually there – the top right is a tissue box if focussed, but Uhura in peripheral. I remark this to my friend who finds it absolutely fucking hilarious.

7.04pm – My friend calls me – He’s out the front. I stumble outside to walk around the house, and practically lose vision, as the light turns to dark very quickly. I walk blind for a few steps and my vision slowly returns to me, all at once (yes – slowly all at once. Very fucking weird). I walk under the pergola and thru the living room, then out the front door, locking it behind me. I walk unsteadily to my friends car and open the door and sit. “Sup man” he says “Dude. I am fucking tripping. Absolutely tripping” is the first thing I say. “good thing I’m driving then” he says “Fuck yeah.” says I. we proceed on our way.

7:08pm – We cruise down the street and I babble something about hornet and tripping balls. Out the windscreen all I see is a colourful mass of swirling, moving dark pastels as the rain and fog mist the windscreen. My friend asks me where another friend we’re picking up lives. I reply autonomously, yet unsure of what I was saying. Turned out to be correct, and we end up outside said friends place. He gets in, says what’s up, says he has a present for us, and hands us both a Rockstar Cola. I tell him I have a present for him – I hand him a Romeo Y Julieta No. 1 cigar I meant to give him at Christmas.I tell him what I’ve taken, and he says I’ll probably only want to go one round in poker. He mentions something about getting fucked up on weed (I think).

7:12pm – I lose track of conversation for a moment as the drug takes a hold of my concentration. Outside the window the streaming colour mass is fascinating. I snap back to conversation when personal limits of alcohol consumption are mentioned. Certain people are named and shamed as saying they can drink far more than they actually can. My friend asks me how much alcohol I could put down in one sitting “back in [my] good old days” (2 years ago or so now). I say about 1500mL of spirit (40%/80proof) on a good night. easily 1 litre, and then some, I tell them. The debate other peoples ability to consume alcohol in such high volumes. Conversation switches to how Friend 2 went at the pub the previous night. Titties were mentioned. Fascination for me switched to what I was seeing as the car went around the round-about we had made it to.

7:15pm – I unsteadily drag myself out of the car, holding my can of Rockstar Cola. I remember I forgot my 4-pack of V energy drinks and mention it. I make my way unsteadily towards the house. Standing outside the garage door, Friend 2 starts imitating an humourous accent, through which my other 2 friends who are setup with the poker equipment respond to. The garage door is opened (which knocks over a table leaning against it, beaning Friend3 on the head – which I don’t see, luckily or I probably would have laughed hard). I walk in and stand next to Friend 4 who is sitting down. I am slightly confused at this point, and finding normal comprehension of words and social interaction more challenging. I  sit down between Friend 3 and 4, and exclaim “I am so unbelievably Fucking high right now. You have no idea.”, this elicits laughter and an exclaimation from Friend 3 that “yeah man, you look fucked.”

7:20pm – We’re all settled in for a game of poker and I’m having trouble comprehending what people are even saying. As their mouths move, it seems a second, phantom-like mouth is ghosting their real mouth, and is out of synch with their actual mouth. I am a little giggly at this stage, and start to laugh somewhat uncontrollably for no reason. This creates a kind of “lets see how much we can make him laugh” game by my friends, which, while annoying and frustrating on LSD, was actually kind of enjoyable on Hornet. I chuckle and compose myself. Friend 1 owes me for a cigar I purchased for him, and he buys me in for the first round and hands me the change over the table. Automation takes over for this task.

7:25pm – Cards are dealt and I’m told to play my bet. I am confused as what to do, however my mind is still reasonably coherent. I remember the rules of the game and which chips are which. I place my bet and play my hand reasonably well. Strong visuals make the world seem like it is shifting in front of itself – existing objects start to ghost other objects. The table throbs. The cards bleed into the fabric. My brain is nearly on another plain of existence.

8:00pm – Lost track of time. I play cards reasonably decently, however I bet somewhat non-characteristically. I sip my Rockstar cola every now and then, which Friend 3 helpfully opened for me after he saw me staring at it. Friend 3 and 4 continually make references to how fucked up I seem, and that they will be violating me sexually should I pass out. I assure them I’m not taking a drug which will make me tired, and to instead violate Friend 2 after he passes out from bourbon and weed. I end up wit hthe dealer chip, and have to deal the deck. I actually manage to not fuck it up. Effects of the drug seem to have plateaud very nicely at this stage.

8:15pm (approx) – I decide I need to take a piss, and decide to do so outside. It is raining quite heavily and I am determined not to give a shit. I walk straight out into the rain and start pissing up against a shed, not realising how soaked im getting. I finish up and walk back, drying my glasses on the way. I get back and I’m apparently drenched. Everyone laughs and comments how fucked up I must be. I’m totally nonchalant about it, and I’m not feeling heat or cold at the time. Now am I feeling my usually aching back. I continue to sip my drink and play poker (almost).

My mind wanders heavily during this stage, and I end up zoning out quite a bit, thinking about life, existence, the universe, and certain people I hold dear to me. Friends, family, and others. Humanity, and its ability to live like a bacteria. Right strains of bacteria go on to continue their existence and to evolve, whereby the stragglers of humanity branch out – the rednecks, hillbillies, and other degenerates, exploring and colonising the most uninhabitable shitholes on the planet, doing so just to continue their existence, and spread themselves onto the next generation. Facts of life, drug use, chemical reactions on my brain become very surreal, as if this may be the clear conscious, and my sober self the troubled, unrealistic person. I think about death. I think it’d probably suck, but at the moment I am very much alive. I wish for clarity, but then I quickly stop the thought, and instead embrace the trip.

9:00pm – By this stage I’m out at poker. Friend 4 put me all-in. It was for the best, I had no idea what the fuck was going on anymore. I stare at my watch. It’s still real. 9:00 on the dot. Still set to singapore date. all is normal. Brain wanders incredibly, vastly contemplating all the other above mentioned things. I get asked if I’m ok. “What?” I reply after a long pause. Friend 3 remarks that its rude, and I should say excuse me. At the time I can not properly distinguish if he’s joking or serious. I lapse back into deep thought

9:05pm – About 30 minutes later…oh wait, it was less than 5 minutes. I zone out thinking and snap back to my watch. 5 Minutes. Really? Seemed I was out for 30. I take my focus off the watch. The game continues on in front of me. Friend 2 is out of the game also, his pipe ready for the smoking. I zone out again

9:15pm – Around 10pm….no wait – its still only 9:15? what the fuck? How could I have so many thoughts in just 10 minutes? I am amazed. Observable time is dramatically slowed down. Living time is sped up. Confusion is very slowly starting to clear up around this point. I think I’m on the comedown. Visuals still persist but are becoming more muted. Psychological effects are still in gear.

9:45pm – Observable time returns slowly to normal around this point. Total mental haze clears up a very slight amount. Thought about humans being extremely complex animals begins to circulate in my head. I think of humans forming relationships with members of the opposite sex, and how the pursuit in life is still so basically and instinctually drive, even when some humans choose to pursue other feats, the human drive is to ultimately reproduce, or to atleast simulate reproduction. The man who deludes himself is only fighting the very core that he is built upon. I think about how a relationship would effect me at this time, and I start to think about certain people on a slightly deeper level. I become slightly lonely and begin to miss certain people. I wonder what they’re up to, and how I am suddenly very interested in whatever they have to say. This troubles me slightly as I realise my instincts are still at my thought basis. I decide this is probably not going to change. I miss cetain people more.

10:30pm – The effect of the drug is definitely wearing down quite a bit now. There is only residual mental cloudyness. Visual effects are all but gone, but slightly persistant. Visual bleeding still occuring slightly, as is objects breathing. I am feeling like taking a little tramadol to up my serotonin so I can shift back to normality a little quicker

10:45pm – I excuse myself to take a crap, as my stomach has been churning the whole time I’ve been tripping. “seeya in 30 minutes” comes the chorus back. I stand up and stumble a little, unsteady on my feet, and I make my way into the house. Passing a couple of people lounging, I say hi, and get hassled by the stupid dog, which yaps at me until I get to the toilet and close the door. As I’m sitting there I look at the tiles, and notice they seem to have a pattern on them which looks very 3-dimensional. I sit and think a bit more about life and stare at my watch. Time moves extremely fast, and by 11:15 I decide I had better get the fuck out.

11:20pm – I walk back through the house, and into the garage where the poker game is still going. I’m asked if I’m ok, of which I am, and then I take a glass and have a few coca colas. This is about where my memory cuts off as it took me a good two weeks to write this article. However, I must say that 4-HO-MET is a very fun, and extraordinary drug. I would recommend it to anyone (except those with possible underlying mental issues)


Auditory Hallucinations: The Rundown (Part 2)

Over the past several weeks/months I’ve been writing down anything I hallucinate while on the come-down of any sort of psychoactive drug. If you require a re-cap, you can check out part 1 here. Most of these current sentences were heard mainly during the come-down after tramadol, promethazine, or heavy doses of caffeine, whereas the last few are due to dextroamphetamine.

Here are 15 more.

1. “There’s like, a carpet sledgehammer that comes in rolls.”
2. “You guys planning to do? Not have a Christmas party.”
3. “Bit big is it? During the month?”
4. (Male) “We’re getting in touch with our clone soon” (Female) “HAHA! Cannae go local”
5. “We’ve been inspiring the hippies for…hundreds of years”
6. “What about 1…1….1:30. 1:30?”
7. “Fuck off cunt, you think they’re mine to limit?”
8. “You’ve gotta time it, then you’ve gotta mount their heads.”
9. “Fishy crab bath celery soup”
10. “No wonder I can’t pick up now, I feel seedy as”
11. (Robocop) “Somebody TURNED MY COMPUTER OFF” *gunfire*
12.  “Cut the goat out, man. Seriously whack”
13. “So like when did you lose your license and stuff, mate? You were going so good, and we’re glad you kicked him out. He’s a terrorist; wears a  suit when he comes out for a walk around the back yard”
14 “I have no idea how that idea gives me other ideas.”
15. “Water pipe rock ‘n’ roll”

Another 15 down, another unlimited supply to go. Until then,


Fun With Promethazine

Yesterday, sporting a niggling hangover that just wouldn’t go away, I started looking for something to take which would dull the hangover or replace the feeling of it with a different feeling all together. I had been reading about how promethazine was not only an antihistamine, but also a central nervous system depressant, which can also potentiate opiates, alcohol, tricyclic antidepressants, and other chemicals. The side effects of promethazine included sedation and euphoria, which sounded interesthing to me, seeing as promethazine is available over the counter at the pharmacy.

Armed with a 50 pack of Phenergan 25mgs, I decided to take a handful of them and see what sort of effects I could get out of the drug. I took my first 75mg dose at around 12pm, and waited a while. Over a period of about an hour, I started noticing the effects of the drug. I felt sleepy and heavy, the visualiser on my music player started looking very interesting, and I stared at it for about 30 minutes. I eventually pulled myself away from staring at it, and went back to IRC, and started chatting away. About an hour and a half after taking the first dose I took another 50mg. I continued to chat on IRC and briefly stare at the visualiser which had started looking better and better as time went on.

About an hour after the 2nd dose, a friend had asked me to play a game of Modern Warfare 2 with him on the PS3, so I took a further 25mg of phenergan and got up to go to the loungeroom. As I got up I noticed I was having a little trouble breathing, it felt like something was sitting on my chest. I was also feeling extremely heavy and reasonably cloudy headed. I sat myself down on the couch and started playing the game, which I was totally shitty at. By this time I was totally buzzing off the drug and feeling so sedated I would have been able to close my eyes and fall asleep sitting up if I had wanted to. I also had a very slight feeling of euphoria, and my limbs were so heavy it took a lot of effort to move around. My breathing was still heavy and laboured but not as much as before I had taken the 3rd dose.

After around an hour of MW2 I went back to my room to chill out in front of my computer. As I got up off the couch, my knees buckled and I almost fell. I could barely stay standing, and movement was clumsy and difficult. I was also feeling disassociated, and nothing around me seemed real. When I sat back at my computer, I could see the room breathing with me, as thought I had taken a lot of pot or acid.

By about 5 hours after the first dose I could barely keep myself awake. Typing was laborious and near impossible. My fingers wouldn’t press the right keys, and they were way uncoordinated to backspace their mistakes. My head was swimming and I thought I felt nauseous and shaky. I got up and grabbed a few breakfast-shake-in-a-box things, and slammed one down, just incase it was hunger I was feeling. They seemed to settle my nausea/shaky feeling and I continued to sit at my computer, staring at winamps visualiser, and chilling out. After about an hour of that I decided that staying awake any longer was going to be impossible. I got up out of my chair and clumsily walked to my bed, knees buckling at every step. Falling into bed I passed out after about 30 minutes or so, around 7:30pm

At around 10pm I woke up for a piss, and found that I was still incredibly high from the promethazine. Everything was hazy and I felt groggy and disoriented. My knees were still buckling as I walked, making it difficult to get anywhere without falling on my arse. By the morning when I had woken up (around 9:30am), the effects of the drug were all but gone, save for a groggy feeling. I also got an awesome sleep and I woke up feeling refreshed.

All in all, promethazine is kinda fun to take a lot of, and from what I’ve read about it, reasonably safe (note: do your own research before you take my word on that), and, as it is obtainable over the counter at the pharmacy, its very easy and cheap to get a hold of. However, the first experience was reasonably good, but I can’t see myself taking such a high dose of it again as it seems to be more a sedative than a euphoric, but I bet it goes great with oxycodone or pot.

Enjoy your drugs responsibly 🙂


Auditory Hallucinations: The Rundown (Part 1)

Quite often when I find myself taking an excessive amount of drugs, of any kinda, usually opiate based as I come down, I seem to experience some quite random auditory hallucinations. Nothing malicious, just random crap. Oddly enough, I usually hear these hallucinations in a female voice rather than a male, or my own voice. Sometimes the voice is high pitched like a young girl, and sometimes its deeper and more sincere like a middle aged woman. Its quite strange. But I still hear the very odd male voice every now and then.

So in this blog post i will list 20 of the sentences I have heard while hallucinating. Some are funny, some are bizarre and some are just plain fucking stupid. But its always fun to listen to them and write down what they are, so here it goes:

2. “Terry can I buy you a drink?”
3. “Louise, Whats the number in a prime set?”
4. “I heard vegemite paste hit the window”
5. “Were the politics centre in the middle of the universe?”
6. “Smells like chicken *giggle*”
7. “Well then get rid of the eye, I hate it”
8. “Haircuts use Wonka cheese”
9. “I’m just terrified of old grey ladies”
10. “Wall decks, did you apply the wall decks? You’re quite silly”
11. “I couldn’t take your mum flowers, I just couldn’t. They’re made by Gypsies”
12. “What do you think? Sugar cube or sweetner?”
13. “*blabber*..and a few things come down to his surgical operation”
14. “You’re up early. Its 9pm and you’re up early. I’m drinking this wine”
15. “Just do it, go, take the high jump”
16. “Caffeine and coffee are the same thing bro, fentanyl is different by far”
17. “The shirt needs more colour in it, the shirt, needs more colour in it, it needs to be stabilised by a molecule”
18. “Princess Margaret might be driving a Rav 4 if she was still alive”
19. “The bed spreads on, I hope the pole doesnt collapse and crush the crinkle”
20. “If I set a date with a camera man….huh…uh….Spaghetti bolognaise”

And thats todays 20, stay tuned for another time in the next couple of days/weeks when I’m hallucinating again and decide to blog post about it.
Off into the wild blue yonder of drug fueled mental madness I go.

Bob’s Educational Corner: Science

On tonight’s episode of Bob’s Educational Corner, we are proud to present “Science”.

Science. It’s all around us. If you turn on a TV, or eat an ice cream cone, or bludgeon a homeless man to death with an oscilloscope, you are enjoying the benefits of science. It enriches our lives and plagues our dreams, and is one of the most important parts of a balanced breakfast. But science can’t happen by itself, unless it’s also a wizard, but that is stupid and so are you for thinking it. Science requires The Scientific Method, so let us first examine The Scientific Method.

The Scientific Method was invented in 1776 by Al Gore (Al Gore is best known for his invention of The Scientific Method, and for being mentioned in this article). He discovered that, if you heat a test tube in a Bunsen burner while wearing a white lab coat, the very fabric of the universe itself will bend to your whim. With The Scientific Method, he was able to create America, simply by willing it into existence. Then he banged a hot Asian lab assistant and took a nap. This laid the foundation of all modern science.

Try an experiment. Close your eyes and fall off a cliff. Did you notice that you hit the ground? If not, you should seek medical attention. But if you did, you just experienced science! And should seek medical attention. But why did you fall? You fell because your body was attracted to science particles in the ground. These particles are named Fred and Suzanne, so pick the one that makes you feel better about yourself. Every object, no matter how large or small, is filled with science. Sometimes this takes the form of particles, like in the ground. But science is not limited to particles!

Science comes in many forms. This sentence, which is being beamed directly into your eyeballs through your computer, is filled with delicious sciencey jelly. Your clothes, if you’re wearing any, you perv, are composed of long strands of science, woven together by skilled scienticians, who love working with science to make your day better. They love it so much, in fact, that they often work all day for free, not even stopping to eat or sleep. Their dedication is inspiring, and is itself composed of sticky nodules of science.

Every year, Scienticians, which are people who study science and are very good in bed*, discover new types of science. They use sophisticated instruments, such as the monocle, to probe every aspect of existence in their search for science. No location is too remote to investigate in their quest. Recently, for example, science was discovered in the deepest jungles of South America. Braving harsh weather and enraged hippies, Scienticians bulldozed these jungles and salted the earth, causing the science to rise to the top. Through careful study, it was determined that this science caused laboratory animal’s skin to turn golden brown, then explode. Tanning lotion containing this science is already available in most major stores.

We have only scratched the surface of science, but I hope your sense of wonder has been kindled. If you would like to learn more about science, you can write your local congressman and ask for an informational packet. You can also use LSD, which is so full of science that you’ll think your head is going to explode because there are, like, so many monkeys in your brain. And to answer your question, yes- the monkeys are also made of science. Good night, and good learning!

*This statement paid for by the American Society of Scienticians.

Death and the universe.

Lately I have been doing a lot of thinking about death, and dying, and how the universe actually functions. Of course no one knows this, and some people turn to religion to satisfy their fear of dying, that there is an afterlife in heaven, and there they can live on after death and even be reincarnated.

Of course as an Atheist I can not prescribe to this doctrine, and I must have logical explainations for things, however there is no logic in the operation of the universe in the slightest.

Ever tried to think of what is there, if the universe doesnt exist, or didn’t exist before? Ever tried to imagine the expanse of the universe, the distances from us, sitting here uselessly floating around our little star while a googol (1 followed by 100 zeroes – its actually a number – seriously) other stars and planets do the exact same thing, almost an infinite distance away from us, and yet we have no fucking idea what the hell is out there, why its out there or why we even exist.

Why do we exist? what would the point of the universe be if there was no life? It would be a totally dead vacuum of rocks and debris, of atoms and molecules just floating without purpose. Everything that exists beyond life serves no purpose at all, it just lives as much as a non-living thing can and dies as it is consumed by another non-living thing. In a way the universe is alive, but it is not conscious. We are conscious. Yet our existance is puzzling, why are we here? What is our purpose? Who put us here, or what? and how did we become what we are?

I believe in evolution, and I believe that life was created as an accidental combination of all the right molecules in the right place at the right time, but why? If it happened here, it has happened on the other googol planets too. So there is also intelligent life, probably more so than us out there. Its just a matter of time. They would be wondering the same thing. What is the universe for? and why are they there? they will not be able to explain it for the universe can not be explained. No one lives forever, and eventually everything will cease to exist once again.

But that makes room for the the argument that the universe is infinite; that this universe has happened an infinite amount of times, and that the atoms we are created from, when we die, go on to do other glorious things, but in an infinite amount of time the quarks and electrons and neutrons will all reconnect to create us in our perfect form again, the universe crunching and banging over and over an infinite amount of times, on a loop, until we are created again, over and over and over, infinitely….

…Or is this a universe like groundhog day? when the universe crunches again, does it turn into the same original substance that the big bang was created from? in which case the explosion from the matter being ejected into space would be exactly the same as the first time it happened, and will continuously happen exactly the same, and we are born and die over and over – again infinitely.

Infinite. A number that does not technically exist. But in the universes terms, it must. Trying to think of this is enough to make my head spin, and I can not possibly comprehend it at all. Perhaps the universe is just a one-off. Perhaps after death, we are dead. Perhaps when the sun dies, it is lost forever, perhaps when the atoms fall apart, into their pieces of quark, neutron, electron, other shit (I’m no physicist) they remain floating in the endless vacuum forever. Endlessly. The universe dead. No hope for a reincarnation.

But this is boring is it not? To have the universe end in such a way. This is not a popular doctrine for a reason as it is majorly depressing to think that all of this is a waste of time, and that nothing will come of doing anything – but that is exactly how it works as an infinite universe aswell, but atleast we will live again.

When I used to think about death, I used to think I did not care what happened with my dead body. It was just a shell and I was certainly not using it anymore, but now I think I would like my body to be buried, and a tree grown on top, so that I, and my atoms (which are not mine. they were someone or something elses before yours and mine) can fulfil the needs of another life form, and for that life form to be a fruit bearing tree, my atoms would be further fulfilling the needs of another creature, in turn fulfilling the life of more. The great circle of life.

Which is another thing – The human body is made up of so many thousand different cells all with a different purpose. If you look at the bluebottle jellyfish it is made up of 4 different organisms in a symbiotic relationship. they each help maintain the others and thus sustain their life. However doesn’t the human body work the same way? Were we originally symbiotic organisms, made up of a thousand different parts, that over time merged into one gigantic system. The skin protects us but requires nutrients, which the blood provides, which needs oxygen which the lungs provide. The heart requires the electrical impulse from the brain, and the blood. The cellular structures of everything in the body still hold their original link in the DNA strand, the symbiote has become entrenched in our DNA. In total, we are not one organism. We are several million or more all in a symbiotic relationship. We do not control our organs, they are voluntary for a reason. the brain is entwined with them so they survive, pain, hunger, heat, cold, all to keep our symbiotes from dying. This relationship is great, but when one of the DNA pieces is broken, then comes genetic disease, which is a total failure of one symbiotic organism to maintain the rest of the organisms. The human body is wonderous, but again is another thing we will never understand 100%…though it should not stop us trying.

Anyway, this is a majorly long, ranting philosophical post, I had to get it out on text and into the world as it was taking up valuable thinking space. I feel a weight has been lifted from atop my thoughts. They’re now freer flowing and all is well. This post is also possibly the result of gabapentin, tramadol, codeine, and caffeine, interacting as a chain of chemical reactions in the large chemical reaction chamber of my brain.

Dan out – massive rant out in the public for all to see – my crazy thoughts published on the internet. Perhaps some people will find this too long and not read it. Perhaps some will take it to heart and really think about it. who knows. who cares? I’m just gonna write this again an infinite amount of times. 🙂 Enjoy