&lt;div class=&quot;report-text-surround&quot;&gt;
&lt;table cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; align=&quot;right&quot; border=&quot;0&quot;&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;15&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;

&lt;!-- DoseChart --&gt;
&lt;table border=&quot;2&quot; cellpadding=&quot;4&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; bordercolor=&quot;#224422&quot; class=&quot;dosechart&quot;&gt;
		&lt;tr&gt;
		 &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;  &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;vaporized&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-substance&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/plants/cannabis/&quot;&gt;Cannabis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;(extract)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		&lt;/tr&gt;
		&lt;tr&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;  &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;smoked&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-substance&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/plants/cannabis/&quot;&gt;Cannabis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		&lt;/tr&gt;
		&lt;tr&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;1 hit&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;sublingual&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;
		&lt;tr&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;  &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;oral&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-substance&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/chemicals/mdma/&quot;&gt;MDMA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		&lt;/tr&gt;
		&lt;tr&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt; &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;  &lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-method&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;insufflated&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-substance&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;/chemicals/ketamine/&quot;&gt;Ketamine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br&gt;

	&lt;table border=&quot;2&quot; cellpadding=&quot;4&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; bordercolor=&quot;#444455&quot; class=&quot;bodyweight&quot;&gt;
	 &lt;tr&gt;
           &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;115 lb&lt;/td&gt;
         &lt;/tr&gt;
	&lt;/table&gt;

&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- End DoseChart  --&gt;
&lt;!-- Start Body --&gt;
I wake up at 5:30 AM, smiling, already excited for the evening.  Just eight more hours of work to get through first.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Get home from my 18.5 hour shift around 2:00 PM.  I eat and get ready, and put the blotter square under my tongue at 3:00 on the dot.  I pack some snacks and extra layers of clothing into my backpack, check my pockets at least five times to make sure I’m not forgetting anything, grab my canteen of frozen water, and head out the door at 3:15.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I’m driving to a park-and-ride lot to catch a shuttle to the Hollywood Bowl.  For a multitude of reasons, I don’t want to drive there myself.  The concert’s not until 6:00, but I wanted to just get up there, so bought the ticket for the earliest bus.  It leaves at 3:40, but I get to the lot a bit early.  I take a drag off of this one-hitter I have stuffed with Blue Dream and vape honey (daily smoker/vaper) and head over to the first bus in line.  I take a seat off to the side and put my iPod on random.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Coming up on the bus ride isn’t the most enjoyable experience.  I’m feeling very introverted and self-conscious, maybe a bit paranoid.  I&#x27;m a huge introvert and rarely take public transportation; being this close to strangers while the acid grows stronger has me feeling paranoid.  Light’s getting brighter already, and sometimes I think that the words on billboards are beginning to sway, but I’m not sure if things are starting or if it’s my expectation of things to come.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We’re dropped off around 4:45, and the visuals are definitely going (specifically the bright specificity which gives that clarity of vision, every single nook and cranny of the pavement standing out in vivid individuality).  I trek up the hill, but I’m so early that the pavilion I’m seated in isn’t even open.  So I walk up the hill some more to a picnic area and self-consciously watch the scenery shift and move as groups of picnickers claim tables under the trees.  There’s this eucalyptus with pealing bark that I want to stare at, but event staff are standing under it and I’m paranoid enough to think they might suspect something if they see me staring at the trunk.  This paranoid introversion, constantly calling into question if I’m doing something that might draw someone’s attention because then &#x27;they’ll know&#x27;, is one of the things I don’t enjoy about acid.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The upper deck opens up around 5:00, and I get to my seat.  The stadium’s fairly empty this early, which is fine by me.  I’m on the bottom row and have a cement wall in front of me that I can comfortably rest my legs on, so I lean back into the wooden bench and watch the late-afternoon scenery.  The green hills that serve as the Bowl’s backdrop shift and sway in a river of green.  The clouds overhead slowly expand and contract.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The hour passes by very slowly, and I find it difficult to find a comfortable way to sit.  I’m getting tummy rumbles, which is another thing I don’t like about acid.  I don’t feel nauseous, just internally discomforted.  The bench is hard and the legging cramped, and I don’t like the idea of zoning out for too long.  Because then &#x27;they’ll know&#x27;.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The Smith Westerns come on right around 6:00, and the visuals are what I’d expect them to be at this point (though I’m surprised they’re where they’re at without weed, excepting that bit I had around 3:30), but I’m still moving around in restless unease.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Five bands are set to play, but I have no idea how long they’ll get or when the night’s even going to end.  Midnight?  Surely no earlier than 11:00.  I really didn’t know, so I use a vague notion for my timing.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
They only play four songs (two of which I recognize, so I’ll give them a closer listen).  As soon as their last song is done, I’m on my way to the bathroom.  But then the stage spins around and Warpaint starts playing immediately.  Darn it!  The bathroom is just down the stairs, and I take my ½ tab of MDMA (about 100 mgs) in a stall and return to my seat before they are done with the first song.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Warpaint also play four songs, but I’ve seen longer sets from them a couple of times.  The sound isn’t coming through clearly for me, and I’m not sure if it’s the band’s playing, the acoustics, or the way I’m perceiving sound.  The Bowl’s renowned for it’s acoustics, and Warpaint usually sounds good live, so I assume it’s my perception.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The sun’s nearly gone, but it’s been going earlier and earlier by the day.  And it’s getting cold.  I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt under a t-shirt under a thin sweatshirt with the hood up, but I’m getting cold.  So I go into my bag and pull out a long-sleeved Henley and add that under my sweatshirt.  I put a knit cap on and pull my sweatshirt hood back over that.  I’m thin and seem to feel cold more acutely than most people, but I’ve also noticed being extra temperature-sensitive when in a psychedelic state.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Panda Bear comes on as the sun goes down, just before 7:00.  So maybe I’m a little biased, but I’m also blown away again by how incredible this guy’s voice is, in addition to constantly being awed by his musicianship.  But mostly it’s how he uses his voice.  He’s one of those artists I’m committed to and will see whenever he’s in town, and I think it’s mainly just to hear him sing.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Pardon the fangirl freakout.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
There’s going to be more of it.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The last time I’d seen him was before &#x27;Tomboy&#x27; came out, and he was touring those songs, which I had little familiarity with (only one of the preview singles had been released at that point).  I enjoy him more this time, knowing all of the songs by heart by now.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Then that sound comes on, that &#x27;chk chk chk&#x27;, and then that pulsing machinery, and oh my God he’s playing &#x27;Comfy in Nautica&#x27;!  I spent my entire first trip (13+ hours on mescaline) listening to &#x27;Person Pitch&#x27;, and Panda Bear’s been one of my favorite musicians ever since, so hearing any of those songs in this state is a joy to me.  And seeing it performed live at the Hollywood Bowl (he sounded amazing, by the way – no more distorted perception, or perhaps he just knows how to take advantage of the sound system), well, there’s nothing better.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Until I hear that owl hoot.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
And I think, &#x27;is he just throwing that in there, or is he going to do it?&#x27;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
And then he plays fucking &#x27;BROS&#x27;!!!  This song speaks to me on many levels.  I can’t really go into what it means to me, because it’s not just an intellectual response or anything.  This song is visceral, it flows in my veins and it makes my heart beat.  From October 7, 2009 on, this song’s been a part of me.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I’m bursting with joy, but this is genuine circumstance-driven happiness.  The MDMA hasn’t kicked in yet. &lt;div class=&quot;pullquote-right1&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;pullquote-text&quot;&gt;The MDMA hasn’t kicked in yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  I do mouth along the words, though, which I wouldn’t normally do for self-conscious reasons (and I never sing in public, heavens forbid), but I am still the only person on my front-row bench.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The album version goes into a rave-up and ends up being twelve and a half minutes long, but the performance fades out shortly after the vocal portion, and that’s it.  I’m still thrilled, though.  Great show.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
He plays seven songs and is off by 7:35, which I find shocking.  It’s dark by now, and I thought it was later.  And so cold.  Cold enough that the canteen I’d taken out of the freezer at 3:15 in the afternoon has hardly thawed.  I begin to wish I’d worn some thermal underwear under my pants, but I would’ve been too hot while the sun was out.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The Arctic Monkeys come on about ten minutes later.  Turns out my suspicions are correct, and they’re not just a band that I don’t know very well, they’re one I actively dislike.  The MDMA hits and the whole scene takes on a more cartoonish look (the lights on the hills burning like fires), but I’m mad that I’m peaking at this point and that I’d gotten my timing off by so much.  If I’d known Panda Bear would be off of the stage by 7:30, I would’ve done things differently.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
And it turns out that The Arctic Monkeys play the exact kind of music that I don’t like: aggressive, sneering, meaningless (the lyrics I can make out are nonsense to me) rock music.  I can’t wait for them to get off the stage, and am upset that they get a long set while Panda Bear only got seven songs.  I have to think Panda’s going to be the one whose music is remembered and who influences a new generation of musicians, and I can only assume that in the future him playing the Hollywood Bowl will be a bigger deal than The Arctic Monkeys doing so.  But for whatever reasons, they’re more popular and so a co-headliner.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I try using this portable vape I have for weed, but it isn’t working out too well.  It does enough to kick up the MDMA, but I’m not feeling good.  I’m shivering cold, bored, disliking the music, wanting both to just go home and to stay until the next band, and finding the music to be disengaging from the visual aspect.  I keep imagining scenarios where I’m not here, listening to this band, waiting for the show to be over so the bus can take me back, but alas, I am.  And they seem to just play on and on.  I’m tempted to take out my iPod and listen to my own music, but I figure they’re playing too loudly for that to be effective.  I’m surprised that anyone’s enjoying this, but they seem to have lots of fans in the crowd.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The drummer’s entertaining, though.  He’s one of those &#x27;fists of flurry&#x27; drummers, but he’s fun to watch.  And they do sound good, even though I don’t like the sounds they’re making.  They’re good musicians who play well together.  Still, they can’t leave the stage soon enough, and my discomfort (mental and physical) grows the longer they’re on.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Finally they do finish, sometime around 8:45.  I’m still shocked at how early it is.  I feel so tired, so cold.  I hadn’t slept well, I’d then worked eight hours, been up and active since 5:30 in the morning.  The MDMA is supposed to be counteracting some of this, but it seems to only be ramping up the visuals.  I&#x27;m not feeling any euphoria, and it sure isn’t making me more awake or any warmer.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I don’t know much about TV on the Radio, but gods bless them, they turn my night around.  They’re sort of a soul/rock group with a couple of great male vocalists.  The different sections of the bowl’s shell are shifting through digital colors which look quite lovely to me, and I’m tapping and foot and nodding along to the beat.  The band’s great, and moving around has me feeling warmer. They play for about an hour, followed by a one-song encore.  Then the lights come up and the night’s done and it’s not even 10:30.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Effects have died down a bit, and I find it easy to navigate through the crowd and find my bus.  Lights are still glowing more vividly and colors pop more and I feel more confident (though somewhat self-conscious about what size my pupils might be).
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;erowid-caution&quot;&gt;[Erowid Note: 
Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. &lt;a href=&quot;/chemicals/show_image.php?i=dmt/dmt_contraindications1.gif&quot;&gt;Don&#x27;t do it!&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We get back to the park-and-ride before 11:30.  I’ve got some light sensitivity, but nothing else in terms of visuals.  No motion.  I feel perfectly safe to drive, and have no problem making the fifteen minute drive home.  In fact, I feel good driving.  I think the MDMA must be putting me more &#x27;in the seat&#x27; as it were, enabling me to feel the engine and road better.  I keep at the speed limit, but the roads are fairly empty at this time on a Monday night, anyway.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I’m surprised by how early it is when I get home; not even midnight.  But I don’t have to work in the morning, and the plan was always to come home and trip into the night, if I could. &lt;div class=&quot;pullquote-right1&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;pullquote-text&quot;&gt;the plan was always to come home and trip into the night, if I could.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  I almost never trip at night, just because I’m a day person and like the daytime visuals so much, and have never done it on acid before.  I am ready to see what’s in store for me.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I don’t know what the plan is for the evening, though.  I trip regularly and follow a pretty set routine, but that was off given the circumstances.  I decide to put on &#x27;Person Pitch&#x27; with the volume low, turn off the light and put on a halogen lamp aimed at the ceiling.  I load an indica into the whip and attach it to the bong, and few sweeter vapor hits have I had.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The LSD gets going visually again, and I lay down in bed, finally warm, finally comfortable.  My dog jumps on the bed, and I pull her up to lie along my side while I lay on my back, watching the ceiling clouds.  I scratch her gently, her fur feeling wonderful, as she falls asleep in the crook of my arm, her head resting on my bicep.  I think about how much I love her, as much as anything else in this world.  I decide that if it ever becomes feasible for me to have her cloned and decide to do it, I’ll give the same amount of money that I spend on the cloning to rescue organizations throughout Los Angeles.  That way I won’t be wasting a life for a dog that already had her time.  But she’s one of the best things in the world, as far as I’m concerned, and it will be difficult to not have her around.  I watch her whiskers, and it’s as if I’m seeing them at a cellular level.  Filaments of rainbow light fill the emptiness between the individual strands of fur that make up her coat.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
After half and hour or so, she wakes up and jumps down to her own bed.  Instead of leaving me sleepy, the indica has kicked the MDMA into high gear, and I’m wide awake and getting a few eye wiggles.  I don’t feel any of the normal heavy indica properties at all.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I’m having such a good time with &#x27;Person Pitch&#x27; that I decide to listen to &#x27;Tomboy,&#x27; too, and put the two albums on repeat.  I lay back in bed, rest my eyes, watch the clouds, normal trip stuff.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I’d taken a little baggie of ketamine to the Bowl, having had thoughts of using it during Panda Bear, but with the timing being off, I never had.  I hadn’t really felt like doing it at any point, either.  But I’d also never done it with LSD or MDMA, and I hear it’s great with both.  So I figure this is the perfect time and place to try it.  I decide I’ll take a bump when &#x27;Person Pitch&#x27; comes up again on the repeat.  In the meantime, I eat an apple a few days past crispness, not really enjoying it, but feeling that food (particularly something juicy and hydrating) will be a good thing for me.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I open the k baggie and dig a bump out with a key, a little hillock of white powder.  The last time I’d done it (on a week’s tolerance, and that had been a couple of months ago), not much had happened, so I am a bit generous with my measurement.  Maybe a fifth of a gram?  I don’t know, I’m eyeballing.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
As soon as &#x27;Comfy in Nautica&#x27; comes on again, I insufflate.  I have to switch nostrils to get it all down, but I get it down.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I turn the lamp off, lie back in the dark and wait. &#x27;Comfy in Nautica&#x27; plays through, and not much has happened.  I wonder what amazing thing is going to come from this much-discussed combination.  I never check the clock, but I think it’s about 1:30 in the morning at this point.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I turn onto my side and my eyelids drop shut.  Then I’m aware of this intense buzzing sound, a ring in the ears.  I wonder if I’m in for the mother of all head zaps, but instead it keeps buzzing and building until I’m in a place of overwhelmingly euphoric white rainbow fluorescence.  I’ve never experienced visuals like this.  CEVs are normally limited to the space seen with eyes closed, that blackness from chin to hairline.  But I am submerged in psychedelia, awash in it, surrounded on all sides.  I open my eyes briefly, but can’t keep them open for long.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
When I close them again, it’s black.  Blackness and fractals and a blue square.  And I am trying to follow it, but then it slips away.  Everything is slipping away.  I don’t want to let go, and try to stay by reciting the lyrics along with &#x27;Take Pills&#x27;.  But I am going, and I know I am going.  I think, &#x27;I hope I’m a better person whenever I come back from this&#x27;, and then I’m gone.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I’ve never experienced ego death before, as I tend toward &#x27;therapeutic&#x27; (my word) low doses.  The slipping away is a bit scary, wondering where you’re going and if/when/where/in-what-state you’ll be back.  The rest is merging with the infinite.  I’m  swept up in the tornado of red dots that spin around the way that air bubbles spin concentrically around when you make a singular, contained whirlpool underwater (from a fish flitting its tail or what have you): spinning fast, then settling still.  I take this to be the universe, or whatever it is that I was now with.  I feel like I’m becoming a part of the universe, seeing how it begins again and again, returning to where I was before I became conscious on earth.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I use the word &#x27;I&#x27; after-the-fact.  At the time, I was no longer aware of my separate existence and had no perceivable consciousness.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I open my eyes and I see everything around me as geometric shapes being taken apart, grid line by grid line.  Everything is being pulled away in increments, deconstructed into the infinite, returning to some previous state.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I don’t know how long it lasts, being gone.  I have a hard time coming back, and feel like I’m really fighting it.  I don’t know if I should let go or come back.  The idea of letting go has a frightening appeal to it, but I’m afraid of losing it if I give in, and I fight it off.  When I come to, I’m stuck.  &#x27;Bros&#x27; is playing as I come back to my body, and I start to move my foot to the beat and go along with the lyrics in my head, coming back to reality.  At least five minutes have passed, perhaps more, since I slipped away.  Maybe ten.  And I’m slipping again.  The song’s in that repeating section, and I keep swirling around, stuck on the ride that the music is taking me on.  Everything’s incredibly psychedelic, and I’m fairly blown away by just how psychedelic things can get (this being my 75th or so trip, so it’s not a new state or anything).  I think that, despite the frequent tripping, what I’d experienced previously was hardly psychedelic at all.  What I’m experiencing now is what psychedelia actually is, mental obliteration in a sea of fractals.  I can’t believe that my mind won’t be permanently affected by this, or even that I can come back from it.  &#x27;Horse tranquilizer,&#x27; I think.  Who knew the key to ego death was horse tranquilizer?
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
But everything’s so psychedelic, and I’m powerless under the pressure, the spinning, the waves.  The song’s going in circles, and so I am, spinning like the universe.  I open my eyes and see only fractals.  I need to get out of this repetitive spinning.  It makes me feel like I’m going to lose control, lose myself again.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
With some effort, I sit up in bed, tell myself my name.  &#x27;And that is my dog sleeping on her bed.&#x27;  Reality is returning.  With sweeping robotic motions, I lift myself out of bed and walk over to where my computer is, on the floor in front of the stereo.  I press the right arrow key, getting out of the trap that is &#x27;Bros’&#x27; second half (and the song’s legacy in my life continues to grow).  Already I’m feeling much better.  I lie back down in bed, keeping my eyes open.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The world is still incredibly fractioned as I lie in the darkness.  I can’t make out anything for what is it.  Everything’s black filament, swirling geometry.  The small green light on my cable box is two bright green lights, hovering around each other, circling one another, never staying still.  I can almost make out the shape of the lamp two feet in front of my face, but it takes time to recognize what the shape means.  I don’t recognize the images on the posters on my walls.  I see things that aren’t, like a three-foot tall stack of small cardboard boxes perpetually falling over where my speaker is.  I think I see a shirt on the floor which then becomes a moving shirt snake, until I remember there is no shirt on the floor to begin with and the illusion vanishes.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
As the ketamine wears off, shapes become more defined and vivid clarity returns to my eyesight.  I watch as, inches in front of my eyes, fluorescent amoebas splatter against some invisible plane in rapid succession before wiggling out and dying.  A series of bent oval shapes like wide bobby pins flashes down my window frame, starting with reds and then going through the rainbow as dozens of them appear and make their way down until the last one disappears in an absence of violet.  The whole thing probably takes three seconds, but is one of the more remarkable visuals I’ve seen.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I see light particles in the air which form into circles and then spin the same way the red balls of the universe spun while I was merging in ego death.  Everything is so bright and colorful with that shifting rainbow light that only acid can give.  I think I might night trip more often.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Then the drugs are wearing off and tiredness is overtaking me.  It’s sometime around 3:00 AM, perhaps after, so I’ve been awake nearly twenty-four hours now.  I vape an indica wax and close my eyes, finally tired and at peace with things, and fall into a dreamless sleep.&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: 2011&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 95305&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gender: Female&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Age at time of experience: 29&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Published: Mar 25, 2018&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 1,527&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=95305&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=95305&amp;amp;format=latex&quot;&gt;View as LaTeX (for geeks)&lt;/a&gt; ]
[ &lt;a href=&quot;#&quot; onclick=&quot;expChangeColors(); return false;&quot;&gt;Switch Colors&lt;/a&gt; ]
&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;2&quot;&gt;MDMA (3), LSD (2), Ketamine (31) : Various (28), Music Discussion (22), Combinations (3)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;!--  &lt;img src=&quot;/images/new.gif&quot; alt=&quot;May&quot;&gt; --&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;

&lt;/div&gt;