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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;15&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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	&lt;table border=&quot;2&quot; cellpadding=&quot;4&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; bordercolor=&quot;#224422&quot; class=&quot;dosechart&quot;&gt;
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		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt;DOSE:&lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;0.5 hits&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-substance&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/chemicals/lsd/&quot;&gt;LSD&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;(blotter / tab)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		&lt;/tr&gt;
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	&lt;table border=&quot;2&quot; cellpadding=&quot;4&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; bordercolor=&quot;#444455&quot; class=&quot;bodyweight&quot;&gt;
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           &lt;td width=&quot;110&quot; class=&quot;bodyweight-title&quot;&gt;BODY WEIGHT:&lt;/td&gt;
	   &lt;td width=&quot;80&quot; class=&quot;bodyweight-amount&quot;&gt;55 kg&lt;/td&gt;
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&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;!-- End DoseChart  --&gt;
&lt;!-- Start Body --&gt;
In 2003 I took a trip to New Zealand and met this dude. This summer holidays he came over to Brazil (where I&#x27;m originally from) to take a one month trip through the coast. We went to Salvador in Bahia, and from there we caught a catamaran to this island called Boipeba. It&#x27;s a beautiful place, paradisiac beaches, hot chicks and all of that. I was not really sure about taking psychedelic drugs, as I usually bad trip on losing control over things, but since I had tried mescaline on new years with no adverse effects, I thought &#x27;yeah, what the fuck, everyone has to try acid at least once in his life&#x27;. As I said the setting was perfect for it, and he was an experienced user, I went for it.
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&lt;br&gt;
This is a funny part of the story: we had found a huge rock of hash at the hostel we were staying at, so we traded it for a hit of acid with this daft hippy dude. In fact we were trying to buy some coke (after all, he had came to South America), but he only had tabs, so we traded for it.
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It was about 1 in the morning, I took half and so he did. When it hit, I felt my fingers tingly, my body was feeling a bit weird, and I was really agitated. Then we sat on the city centre square (it&#x27;s a 5000 inhabitants place) and started smoking durrys with our feet, laughing in a real light way. In about 30 minutes we both lay back introspective, and that&#x27;s when I first noticed that the colours were brighter, but since I was expecting an exciting trip (as the mescaline was, and as coke is) all I did was to get daft and do stupid things such as drunken behaviour.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We headed back to the hostel for a while (mind you I wasn&#x27;t hallucinating at all), and lay down to sleep. We turned off the lights and we both turned on our IPods (that&#x27;s when I realised I was hallucinating), and started swinging them around to see that it created a huge trail of light, like a series of blue screens at the same time floating in the air. We got a bit agitated from that, and started making jokes, talking about the trip. He saw the wooden walls melting, and everything breathing. He told me his dad had taken it back in the day, and we started laughing about thinking of Greg on tabs, as he is a real serious person. This lead us to an obnoxious state, because we both felt like hanging out and enjoying the trip. So we went to the beach to see the sunrise.
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We go to the beach at about 4 in the morning, and it was still dark. So we went to the other end of the beach. When walking, I saw the lines the waves marked on the sand  deconstructing and reconstructing, and generally everything was brighter, blurred. When we got to the other end of the beach, we sat by a resort recreational area that was deserted by that time and started imagining that Fraulein Zeiss the generic gringo mother of three with her kids would come down and meet up two acid rots on the beach, saying &#x27;mein Gott!&#x27;. Thats when the acid started making my thoughts become an incontestable truth to me, and I &#x27;realised&#x27; he was the average bloke, the fair dinkum. He had never struck me as an aussie, but from that moment on, while I was tripping, he was one. 
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&lt;br&gt;
We headed back, and all the lines were deconstructing and reconstructing, such as the horizon, the shore line and the wave marks on sand. We laughed all the way back. Mid way I started hallucinating badly, even though I could only realise that after it was over. I looked at him, and his face was morphing into something scary, he looked like Paddy McGuinness, his eyes and hair became really dark, his receding hairline, cheek bones and ears all came apart from each other, making his face ugly. I had a feeling that time was revolving, as I looked at him and it seemed like a deja vu every time. &lt;div class=&quot;pullquote-right1&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;pullquote-text&quot;&gt;I had a feeling that time was revolving, as I looked at him and it seemed like a deja vu every time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; We got to this spot where I lay on the sand, and he went in the shallow waters and sat there. I looked up at the sky, and it was beautiful, vanilla coloured clouds at 6 in the morning. I felt whole, joyful, and this vanilla sky thing stuck in my head in the acid sort of fixed idea. I thought to myself &#x27;man I really should take tabs with my ex girlfriend&#x27;. That&#x27;s when I was struck by an eternal moment, and got scared shitless.
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In one moment I realised that I was far out, that I could never get out of that spot in the sand, and that there was so much I wanted to do with my life that I couldn&#x27;t get stuck on that trip. I called him up and said &#x27;bro we gotta go, I&#x27;m really scared of being here&#x27;. We went back to the hostel, and on the way back I had my final great moments of trippy happiness. I was struck by another eternal moment in the woods, but this time it seemed like the environment was more familiar, and this time I just said &#x27;wooow this shit&#x27;s powerful!&#x27;. We got back to the hostel and went into town to buy eats, and in all of the course I was scared that I wasn&#x27;t in the consensual reality, and that I could get myself in shit for it. My rear vision was bent and my time perception was completely messed up. We bought some miserable cheap cocoa puffs that didn&#x27;t sit well at all in my stomach.
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&lt;br&gt;
Headed back to the hostel, and when we got there I vomited all I had eaten. I sat and listened to Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin and it made sense to me! We started drawing, and I made a lisergic masterpiece in which reads &#x27;VANILLA amore te amo&#x27;, in reference to the vanilla sky strain on thought. I wrote some mind-numbing senseless texts talking about how I was far out and wanted to go back. An excerpt: &#x27;I am a maroon of reality&#x27;. 
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&lt;br&gt;
That&#x27;s when things got bad, I got frightened by the idea that I&#x27;d be left alone and that no matter how much I tried I&#x27;d never function normally like I did prior to acid. My mate comforted me, saying that he had seen that many times before in first experiences. Every time I looked at something I realised I was still hallucinating badly (eg. He was uglier then on the beach, the sky was green, there were patches of either purple or green everywhere, and when I shut my eyes I saw tridimensional visuals). Instead of relaxing and enjoying the shut eyes visuals, which were by all means absolutely fantastic, I couldn&#x27;t get my mind off the fact that I might not ever come back to the consensual reality. I had just broken up a relationship and she made me really miserable, because she meant a lot to me, so I started talking about her to him, and I started crying like a baby over her. I asked him to get my wallet she had given to me, held it as if it was her. From that moment on, there&#x27;s nothing much worth mentioning as it was pretty much the same thing. Even my memory has selected the parts previous to this, as I can&#x27;t really remember much of my bad trip. All I can remember is that it was overwhelming, powerful, miserable. I stated that it had been the worst hours of my life, and I can&#x27;t remember many worse hours then these.
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I don&#x27;t really know which level of psychedelic experience I reached, as there are elements of both 2d and 3d stage.
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I shut my eyes and talked to him about the visuals for quite a while, before I got totally exhausted and decided to go to bed. When I woke up I was frightened that I&#x27;d not fully left the trip, and started searching my senses for everything that could be hallucinations. I only relaxed when I read online about the post traumatic stress disorder, and that the effects of the drug itself had vanished long before. I could finally relax that I had come again to Konsensual Reality Inc.&lt;!-- End Body --&gt;
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&lt;table border=&quot;0&quot; cellpadding=&quot;5&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;footdata&quot;&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;700&quot;&gt;Exp Year: 2007&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 69875&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gender: Male&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Age at time of experience: Not Given&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Published: Feb 17, 2016&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 9,639&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;[ &lt;a href=&quot;exp.php?ID=69875&amp;amp;format=pdf&quot; type=&quot;text/pdf&quot;&gt;View as PDF (for printing)&lt;/a&gt; ] [ &lt;a href=&quot;exp_pdf.php?ID=69875&amp;amp;format=latex&quot;&gt;View as LaTeX (for geeks)&lt;/a&gt; ]
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&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot;&gt;LSD (2) : Bad Trips (6), First Times (2), Small Group (2-9) (17)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;!--  &lt;img src=&quot;/images/new.gif&quot; alt=&quot;May&quot;&gt; --&gt;
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