&lt;div class=&quot;report-text-surround&quot;&gt;
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&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; T+ 0:00&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;oral&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;/tr&gt;
		&lt;tr&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt;  T+ 0:00&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;1 cig.&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;/tr&gt;
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		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt;  T+ 1:30&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;oral&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;
		 
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		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; align=&quot;right&quot;&gt;  T+ 0:00&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; &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;/tr&gt;
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&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;
At around 3 pm yesterday, my friend and I each received one dose of acid in the form of Sour Patch Kids and ate them in her dorm room, neither of us having eaten anything else that day. The last time we tripped with two tabs of this particular dealer&#x27;s acid we got subtle visuals and the trip lasted only around 6 or 7 hours. We decided to stagger our trip this time just to experiment with potentially stretching out its duration. After rolling up two spliffs in my room we ventured off towards the dealer&#x27;s house. We smoked them both over the course of the ten or so block walk there and I searched for hints of psychedelia in the sky. Other than the clouds seeming particularly beautiful in a vague, intangible way, nothing seemed quite different yet.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We met the dealer in the middle of an intersection and he brought us into his house and started dosing two more Sour Patch Kids. This is when we learned he had just made a new batch which was supposed to be like &#x27;a trip and a half&#x27; (according to his first customers). My friend and I each ate one more at about 4:30 pm. When we left his house, the outside world had changed.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
This was my first time taking acid in broad daylight outside a city setting. In the suburban town we&#x27;re in, the trees are very tall and vibrant; walking around on acid they glowed, each soft leaf in its own distinct way. My friend and I were in awe by the different fractal patterns of each tree and traced the unfathomably deep grooves in the bark. We hadn&#x27;t made it out of our dealer&#x27;s intersection yet and decided to just sit on the curb and enjoy the surroundings we had familiarized ourselves with. The different greys within the pavement by us shifted around and began to create the same circling, tribal mask/contoured face pattern that I so far always have seen after taking psychedelics (shrooms, lsd), and even at this point in the come up the hues of the designs were slightly more prominent than the subdued visuals I had at the peak of the last trip. Windows of nearby houses seemed like they were slightly waving, and this one particular translucent curtain was slightly melting as it blew in the wind. Meanwhile, my friend and I were debating whether or not we were seeing a unicorn or a seahorse in an epic violet cloud roaring its way through the sky. I thought of James and the Giant Peach, my favorite childhood movie, and felt like a child as we began to walk back.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Our suburban neighborhood was slowly turning into Halloween town in many different ways. For one thing, the entire avenue was breathing and beginning to distort, but also the houses on the block had been decked out with decorations. It&#x27;s that time of year! My friend and I felt so genuinely excited at that moment, being completely in touch with the bite of the cold and pointing out glistening orange leaves.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Eventually we were back in her dorm room. She played industrial music on her speakers which I normally don&#x27;t listen to but found myself quite enjoying the heavy percussion and bass. As we listened in silence, I stared into her dresser, watching the remarkably different hues move in front of each other and swim around in the wood. Her floor was beginning to look very tribal and I confronted a couple more realistic looking faces in the linoleum tiles.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Then, we remembered our two other friends were tripping as well -- at 2 pm they had taken two tabs -- and decided to reconvene with them, though after going to my room so I could put on a bunch of sweaters. Walking through the hallways of the dorm gave me a headrush feeling with slow panning-out visuals, similar to the Dali zoom. My room felt and looked very blue (in terms of energy and physical appearance) and we felt very comfortable in it, and after getting warm I crawled on top of my bed. My friend and I gazed at my ceiling, which I had put glow-in-the-dark stars on. The bumpy paint job was a sand bed for the starfish-like stickers that were crawling and sliding around. We decided to watch an episode of Xavier Renegade Angel (&#x27;Going Normal&#x27;) and each got shock-like sensations/the chills sporadically throughout the 20 minute long video. By the end of my episode we had slumped into my comforter and both found our positions to be pretty hilarious.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We left the residence hall in a laughing fit, meeting two other friends on the bench in the Quad who had no idea what we were up to. My friend and I kept to ourselves, commenting on the floating skateboarders and hockey players and otherwise common pedestrians that made up campus life. We called our friends and desperately wanted to meet them but couldn&#x27;t because they were tripping so hard that they couldn&#x27;t tell us where they were. Eventually they appeared behind us with a group of people and we all mingled in different circles. The muddy ground in front of the bench had a lot of faces in it now, as did the pavement leading back into the residence hall, the clouds in the sky, and the bark on the great tree in the quad.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The four of us day trippers decided to get weird, returning to the dorm and finding this trio of boys listening to rap music who were incidentally also tripping on acid. We contemplated going to the main dining building to get food. As at this point human interactions seemed incredibly weird to my one friend and I, one of the two we had met up with, we concluded it was the only thing to do, and that it would be a challenge, like Fear and Loathing but in the dining building! Going in there the entire place was shutting down and we had absolutely no concept of time (usually it closed at 10 pm, but that couldn&#x27;t be right...but it doesn&#x27;t not feel like 10...but it doesn&#x27;t feel like 10...). No one else was in there besides the workers and us, and then our one other friend who randomly appeared out of no where talked to us about his theory of the Post-Apathetic culture that is developing and how paradoxical it is -- something I understand on one level, but couldn&#x27;t quite grasp -- and then literally skated away on a longboard which was kind of bizarre. I asked the worker at the grill for &#x27;grilled cheese,&#x27; which seemed silly to me for a couple of different reasons and didn&#x27;t quite make sense to the guy either so we laughed it off together and I specified wheat bread and cheddar cheese, and then my friend made the same mistake (&#x27;can I have grilled cheese please&#x27;) and the three of us laughed together.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The atmosphere seemed to be perfect for us and we felt like we had conquered the dining building...until we payed for our food and discovered the eating area had been transformed into a casino! It was too coincidental. Card tables were set up, the lights were dimmed and everything was orange and especially halloweeny; the ambient musicians in the background seemed like automatons and the totem poll decorations were ominous. My friend and I picked a booth that was as far away from the scene as possible. We felt like we were in a different entity than the rest of the crowd in the dining room and were perplexed as to how we could all be a part of the same school, and whether or not we were active in the community, and what it meant to be tripping in one of the most prominent buildings on campus. Then we realized he had taken my grilled cheddar cheese sandwich and I had his pepper jack, and also that neither of us could eat, two factors that made us lose it. We were hysterically laughing and staging conversation (&#x27;blah blah blah&#x27;) while pretending to eat our food. At that point we knew the atmosphere had actually conquered us and we decided to leave.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We met up with our other tripping friends plus one kid from Portland who had to catch a bus back but didn&#x27;t know where to go. This was, again, hilarious -- some dude asking a crowd of acid heads to lead him somewhere. On the other hand, we all felt well equipped for the challenge, especially since the bus stop happened to be right in front of the same 7/11 we visited weekly for restocking packs of cigarettes and such. This time the walk included the tail end of the sunset and went by rapidly quick (all in the small group of trippers agreed on this). Everything I encountered on the walk, especially the people walking in front of me, had trails and was shifting around inside itself. The fact that I couldn&#x27;t differentiate properties between trees was tripping me out because they were so vivid before; now it was dark and I just saw the same, melting, tribal face in all of them.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
By the time we got to the bus stop I needed to pee so I went inside the 7/11. This really old, wrinkly guy with a huge white beard opened the door for me. When I tried to enter the bathroom he came to me with a key. When I left the bathroom (which had a crazy mirror in it that really messed with my brain -- everything about the reflected image was convulsing and morphing at a rapid pace, and the walls had infinite grey faces inside them) he took the key from me. It was weirding me out that this guy was with me the whole time because I didn&#x27;t (and still don&#x27;t, really) think 7/11 had attendants that wait outside for people and help them out with the whole bathroom thing.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Meeting up with my friends I wanted to tell them all about it but our Portland tagalong had to catch his bus. It felt like every other passenger on that vehicle was looking into my eyes and I felt like I could see into their sketchy, eerie, Halloweeny souls. At this point all around us was darkness, other than the starry beams of light shooting out of the lamp posts lining the streets.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
For some reason as we passed campus these two drunk girls wanted to come with us to this bridge over a huge gorge where we normally chill at and smoke. My friend who I had originally taken the lsd with and I were both very opposed to our clan acquiring these girls because we generally don&#x27;t like drunken females at all (unless we are them) (very hypocritical, we realized). However, we weren&#x27;t going to say anything negative, so we just kept to ourselves and took in the beautiful, creepy setting we had immersed ourselves in. Everything felt ancient and almost post-apocalyptic at the same time, and by the time we got to the bridge I could see distinct noses and eyes in all the different pebbles on the ledge overlooking the gorge.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
My friend and I tried to ignore the stereotypical nature of the two girls who we were stuck with, but it was hard, especially because we were smoking with them. Everyone&#x27;s eyes were pulsating slightly and shifting around beneath this magnificent, hazy glow that was all around us, reminiscent of the rain that had passed five or so hours ago.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
This is when my trip began to take a turn for the worst. The two girls that were with us ultimately reminded me of a part of myself that I could have easily developed further if I had even a slight change in the way I grew up within my environment. Further more, I began to feel like a failure of a female, and that I could hardly identify with my own gender. I tried to get out of it by suggesting we walk around but before we could stand up this huge group of people approached us including one of my hall mates and his &#x27;home crew,&#x27; a group of childish folks that appeared to be rolling around on the bridge, though I&#x27;m not sure if this actually happened. We really needed to get out! So we began to walk away and ventured back in time to the prehistoric land, crossing the same intersection three times, not having a clue what to tell our friend when he called us asking where we were (this tripped me out because it seemed to be a motif of the evening, just because I had been on the other side of the situation with trying to meet my two friends that were tripping earlier).
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Everything in the street had faces, especially when the light reflected off the slick wetness that coated it. This is when I began to see even smaller faces in everything and nothing, in darkness and in light, in the whites of people&#x27;s eyes and in the solid coloring of a single brick on a house. I completely dropped out of our conversation and tried to focus on the rainbow, color changing, slow shutter speed view and intense tribal visuals. The drunk girls&#x27; voices were echoing in my head to the point of causing me physical discomfort, and I grew very cold, and saw more faces in my breath in the dark night.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Thankfully, I effectively convinced my friends to go back to campus. Though to my demise, we ended up stuck with them, and sat in the hallway waiting for the friend I had initially dropped with as she made tea in her room and talked to her boyfriend on the phone. The hallway was so surreal! I saw incredible faces in the walls and the striped pattern on the carpeting was completely wavy and unstable. Girls were stumbling down the hallway drunk off their asses and I wondered, why me! I could see craters in their faces and the individual particles of the caked-on makeup all over their cheeks and under their eyes. It repulsed me to a state of deeper discomfort and I went into my friend&#x27;s room to intrude her conversation just because I couldn&#x27;t take the hallway anymore. Her room didn&#x27;t make me feel much better even though the tea she made me was very warm and tasted like cherries. Even the dresser was tripping me out a little too much as it began to slide around in its spot. I wandered the hallways, away from my friends and all the drunk messes, to try to call my boyfriend in my room.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The experience of getting into my room was traumatic enough -- I felt like a failure for being confused -- and then I was immediately confronted by my reflection in the mirror near the entry way. The visuals this mirror reflected were similar to those in the 7/11 bathroom mirror but this time I saw even more faces in everything except for my own face, which seemed to completely lack depth, especially as all my features twisted around inside themselves. I called my boyfriend and he seemed to just trip me out even more, his voice echoing in my ear and strangely distant and spooky, though it still felt beautiful to talk to him. I began to cry because I realized how much I deeply missed him. At this point I was curled up on my bed, feeling like I was stuck in a psychological hole. Everything around me was shifting but I finally got up the nerve to go on my computer and video chat with my boyfriend. I tried to explain how I was feeling but could only tell him fundamentally the opposite of what I meant to say. Talking to him was tripping me out so hard and, to make things temporarily worse, he kept sending me pictures of me that I had taken on his computer, and they were really tripping out my brain.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
However, the whole spookiness of that experience regained its humor eventually -- I was sitting in my bed horrified by pictures of myself, paralyzed by an inexplicable, unnecessary fear. I came to terms with the fact that my boyfriend wasn&#x27;t there, though through struggling a bit, which was extremely therapeutic and worthwhile. Furthermore, I found more value in my friends here at school, because I realized they mean a lot to me -- especially on the trip, at that moment. Upon meeting up with them they gave me chocolate and played music for me and we all sat and cuddled in my friend&#x27;s room. It was just us four. We rolled up splits and went outside into the pouring rain, which had started while were taking that breather all together. The haze that was hinted at before now became all encompassing, the raindrops like an incredible swarm of tiny liquid bees. We stood under a great tree and seemed to hotbox it, our eyes stinging with pleasure. We had an intensely incredible conversation about nature, life, psychology, acid, tobacco, marijuana, the drunk girls, the rain, and our lives as young adults. It was extremely rehabilitating, and I realized nothing is a permanent issue.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The ground on the way back was particularly slick and mountainous, waving around a bit in place. I saw great, shiny faces, with rainbow hues in their glimmer. Outside the residence hall we met some of the people we had seen on the bridge -- the ones that weren&#x27;t really rolling around -- and they told us they had just taken about five shots each and two tabs of the same acid we took! Them beginning their trip drunk at 3 in the morning, right as we all were starting to truly come down off a more than crazy enough trip, seemed incredibly cyclical in a very intense, distorted, spirally way. We were all forced into a state of reflection and moseyed off into our own rooms for the night.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I took about a half hour to set up my room for myself, keeping all lights off except for my blue and green lava lamp. My glow in the dark stars now seemed a part of the wall, though very distinct from the faces that were crowding the ceiling. I went on tumblr and saw faces in every single image while listening to my library on shuffle and feeling one with technology. I realized how innately nimble my fingers were at navigating my device. I rewatched &#x27;Going Normal&#x27; and was only partially distracted by the faces that filled different parts of my computer screen. Even when I closed my eyes to try to go to sleep I could see different colored parts of the faces creating kaleidoscopic patterns. I eventually drifted off to seep listening to sounds of the rain, trying to induce a lucid dream.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I ended up slipping into this crazy, creepy, nightmarish scene where my old roommate came back to my now extremely messy single, physically labeling all of my stuff as &#x27;trash,&#x27; calling in her buff boyfriend who started yelling at me saying he was going to beat me up. All I could think in the dream was that I was tripping balls and needed to make sure they couldn&#x27;t catch me, but once they noticed my pupils their heads turned into serpent faces and they started hissing and yelling. I gained lucidity at this point and melted them away in my brain, into the floor, along with everything else in my room, until I was floating above it all in my bed. I could feel the wind in the infinite, boundless room that I created in my mind and could hear a strange music coming from the watery liquid pool of melted room/ex-roommate/ex-roomate&#x27;s boyfriend. I dove into it and the music became louder, more intense, and until I recognized it as my alarm and inevitably woke up.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Since then (~36 hrs later) I&#x27;ve been smoking weed pretty consistently and watching the breathing of all solid objects slowly fade away.&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: 2012&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 98027&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: 18&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Published: Dec 12, 2012&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 17,623&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=98027&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=98027&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;LSD (2) : General (1), Difficult Experiences (5), Various (28)&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;!--  &lt;img src=&quot;/images/new.gif&quot; alt=&quot;May&quot;&gt; --&gt;
&lt;/table&gt;

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