&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; 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;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;  T+ 1:30&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td width=&quot;90&quot; class=&quot;dosechart-amount&quot; align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;2 bowls&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;(plant material)&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;155 lb&lt;/td&gt;
         &lt;/tr&gt;
	&lt;/table&gt;

&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;!-- End DoseChart  --&gt;
&lt;!-- Start Body --&gt;

O.K.  It was about a month ago when my good friend K and I decided we would want to venture deeper into the world of hallucinogens after ingesting 1/8th an ounce of shrooms and desiring more from the experience.  We ventured down our normal drug paths, and got nothing but empty promises.  Finally, the following night, a good friend told us that his cousin makes acid up at school and has several sheets for sale.  We immediately called him and purchased 7 hits (two for me, five for K, his sister, and his sister&#x27;s friends).  K decided he would wait until next weekend to drop, and we parted ways.  I went with my friend B to get beers for the night&#x27;s party at T&#x27;s house (a girl I’ve always found attractive, but never had the balls to say anything).  Upon entering the distributor, I decided not to drink.  I was gonna drop acid for the first time.  The little squares in the tiny bags in my pocket were just too much to resist.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I got back in the car and informed B I was gonna drop and he told me he&#x27;d babysit me at the party.  I opened one of the little bags, dumped the little square into my mouth, and began the long wait.  It was now 8:42pm and T+0:00
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We went to B&#x27;s girlfriend&#x27;s house to pick her up, and I sat on her bed waiting to feel the effects.  T+0:30.  Nothing.  Having been sold bad drugs before, I was becoming skeptical.  But I trusted my friend&#x27;s cousin and remained confident.  T+0:40, we arrive at the party and I decide it&#x27;s probably best not to let it get around that I dropped because my friends tend to screw with people who are tripping out, and as far as I knew, I was the only one about to trip.  I walked around, watching the clock, and watching everyone pound bud lights.  I stepped outside to smoke a cigarette and confided in someone that I had dropped acid upon being questioned as to why I wasn&#x27;t drinking.  Within minutes, most people knew and they began to fuck with me: talking funny, walking funny, waving hands in front of my face, pretending to throw things... In other words, being assholes.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
My friend D and his gf H arrived and it was D&#x27;s birthday, so I gave both of them a hit (screw T, he wasn&#x27;t there.. they got one of his) and they dropped when I was at T+1:10.  At this point, I was almost convinced the acid was a dud and was considering dropping another one when this girl L walked in (a frequent tripper) and she told me that if I went to smoke a bowl with her, got the blood pumping and so forth, I’d feel it.  I went with her and another friend to a dimly lit school parking lot just down the block to smoke.  We smoked two bowls and having a little asthma condition, I started coughing up a storm.  I closed my eyes and coughed for about 30 seconds.  Upon opening my eyes, I noticed that the pale yellow lights lighting the parking lot were flickering, almost strobing.  L called out from what seemed like a good distance away: &#x27;-re yo- -eelin- it -et?&#x27;  her voice strobed in and out with the lights and stars and moon.  She repeated herself and this time I caught it.  Yes, L.  I was definitely feeling it.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I realized that I had attended elementary school with both of them and it dawned on me how much we&#x27;ve changed since then.  I commented out loud about how funny it would be to go back in time and show our past selves this moment.  &#x27;See here, little Adam and B and L... You&#x27;ll be smoking bowls and tripping in the parking lots you once played baseball in.&#x27;  The thought seemed very queer and slightly disturbing in some way.  We began to walk back.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
B and L walked with a quicker pace than me and seemed to be gaining so much more ground, but my tenuous grip on reality told me that they were a step away, not the feet away it appeared to be.  We walked back inside the house and I was tripping hard, and now everyone knew it.  And subconsciously, I guess they were out to destroy me and my acid-addled brain.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
T+2:00?  I can&#x27;t seem to read the clock or my watch.  I know I keep checking, but I also keep forgetting.  I’ve got the holy bible on my lap and I’m trying to read revelations, for some reason.  I get a really weird sense of something under the couch beneath me, so I drop to my knees and begin feeling under there.  Apparently, I was doing this for quite some time because, upon emerging with T&#x27;s kitten, a crowd of laughing people had developed.  &#x27;Dude!  We thought you were just going nuts!  Are you feeling it yet?&#x27; they said, followed by many waving hands and funny faces.  I looked to the cat and nodded.  It spoke something to me, not in words, but in thought and it knew.  I was going on a bad trip and fast.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Suddenly, I don&#x27;t know what to do with myself.  All the documents I’ve read on acid always informed on how to avoid a bad trip, and I had just been eager and not cared about set or setting, and now I was royally screwed.  I could feel this sense of dread creeping up, and I went to go smoke a cigarette again.  I re-entered the house and found the other two people who dropped and realized they&#x27;d be of no help.  &#x27;You have no idea where I am right now,&#x27; I kept saying to them.  But they&#x27;d know soon enough.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I sat down in the same spot on the couch I had previously and someone attempted to entertain me by juggling clementines.  He was terrible.  One dropped and rolled to my feet.  I picked it up and took a bite out of it without even removing the rind.  It didn&#x27;t taste like much at first, but then I noticed how warm and syrupy it was in my mouth.  I guess my hand kinda clenched and I was squeezed some juice onto my fingers.  Everything disappeared but me and this fruit.  It was bleeding on me.  And I liked it.  I rubbed it&#x27;s blood all over my hands and arm, relishing the warm, slightly tacky quality of it&#x27;s clear blood.  Finally, I disposed of it somehow and continued on my trip.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
What time is it?  I don&#x27;t know.  It doesn&#x27;t matter.  I can&#x27;t find my watch.  I know it&#x27;s in my pocket because the band broke, but it&#x27;s hiding.  I’ll get it later.  I walk around a bit more, and finally plop myself down on another couch in the same room I had been spending most of my time in.  This time, people find me instead of me finding them.  L sits on the couch I had sat on with the kitten under it, and the host of the party, T (the girl I lusted after), took a seat next to me on the couch.  She seemed so close.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I looked at T and then the ceiling, which had a funny pattern on it.  Then I watched snakes of light trace this pattern and lunge at me like electric cobras.  I covered my eyes and face, which I realize I’ve been doing alot.  I calm down a bit with my eyes closed, but the couch feels so much more fluffy and huge and I fear I’m going to fall into it, so I open my eyes again and I see T staring at me with a slight smirk on her face which rapidly disappears.  She looks into my eyes and I into hers, and I stare at her full lips which I know don&#x27;t move but when I look back in her eyes, I can hear her voice, and it says many things at once, but the predominant one is, &#x27;I’m sad.&#x27;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I crook my head to one side and shift closer to her.  &#x27;Why are you sad?&#x27; I ask.  She looks at me funny and laughs what seems to be nervous laughter.  She speaks with her mouth, &#x27;I’m not sad.&#x27;  I don&#x27;t believe her because her eyes are telling me she is.  I probe deeper into those shiny blue balls of light.  &#x27;I’m concerned for you,&#x27; her voice says through her eyes.  I put my hand on her forearm and begin stroking it as my head slides onto her shoulder.  I gaze into her perfect eyes, and I say, &#x27;Don&#x27;t be concerned for me.  I’ll be alright.&#x27;  Again, she looks at me funny.  I glance over at L and her mouth gets way too big for her head and her laughter cuts through me like a dentist drill.  (Anyway, I don&#x27;t know if I was actually reading her mind, or maybe my ultra-sensitivity to everything picked up subtle visual clues, but at the time, I definitely felt like I had peered into her mind.)  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I covered my face to block everything out and try to calm down a bit.  I was getting very, very upset.  I kept looking to T for comfort and solace, but every time her gaze met mine, I’d see this shadowy, red figure through the curtains behind her.  This guy, C, walked into the room and I asked him to turn on the stereo which he informed me was on and was playing Guns &#x27;n&#x27; Roses (yuck), but all I could hear was white noise which later sounded like crowd noise and very well could have been, but not for 10 minutes at a time (at least I hope not).  C walked up to me funny, trying to trip me out (like I needed help), and asked me how I was feeling.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Something told me to just open up.  I, myself had not sat and actually thought about how I was feeling, so I became introspective for a moment, and instantly arrived with the closest comparison.  &#x27;C, I don&#x27;t know whether I’m dreaming or awake.  I can&#x27;t tell if I’m dead or alive.&#x27;  he looked at me funny and scurried away.  T had since disappeared, apparently to help clean up because her parents were coming home that night.  I looked for B who promised he would babysit me in hopes he could calm me down, but he had disappeared with his girlfriend and my jacket.  Bastard.  I went for the next best thing.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
My mind somehow concluded that I and T now had some sort of &#x27;vulcan mind meld&#x27; and she&#x27;d be able to hold me, whisper to me, and tell me I’ll be fine.  I found her outside cleaning up empty beer cans.  I tried to help, but found myself only able to stack them or move them along their vertical or horizontal axis.  I knew I didn&#x27;t have to apply to those rules, but I felt it was a moral imperative and crucial to the cleanup process.  I mostly just walked over to a cluster of beer cans and pointed them out for her, as if she couldn&#x27;t see them in her well-lit backyard.  She thanked me, obviously patronizing me, as I was doing more harm than good.  She began telling me things.  Things about how she felt towards me.  I was hearing it, but I was shaking from the cold night air and I was scared.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Scared of what?  I don&#x27;t know.  I really just wanted to hold her.  I needed her more than anything I’ve ever needed.  I blink.  She&#x27;s in front of me.  My vision goes screwy.  She&#x27;s kissing me.  I’m kissing her back.  There&#x27;s someone watching.  I can feel it.  Oh shit.  Did they see us kiss?  Oh shit.  I have a girlfriend, and that wasn&#x27;t her who I was kissing.  Oh shit.  But I don&#x27;t care anymore.  Oh shit.  I don&#x27;t care.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We reenter the house and I wander around a bit more, finding unrecognizable faces in the kitchen drinking hard liquor and rolling blunts.  They look much older than me, and they scare me.  They scare me alot.  Why?  I don&#x27;t know.  But they have weed and weed soothes.  I want to smoke.  Everything I’ve ever read about acid or how to survive a bad trip has now disappeared from my brain, and I know I’m utterly alone on this one.  Somehow, I end up walking back to that parking lot with these strangers and one friend to smoke some more.  I try to get my friend&#x27;s attention, but he&#x27;s on MDMA and too fascinated by the Christmas lights.  I finally manage to bring him back to me and ask him, &#x27;should I know these people?  Are these our friends?&#x27;
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
&#x27;No,&#x27; he replies.  &#x27;It&#x27;s M&#x27;s boyfriend and his friends.&#x27;  M then proceeds to tackle me (I didn&#x27;t even see her with us) and wail like a banshee in my ears.  I fall to the grass of someone&#x27;s front yard, sure I must have pissed my pants from fright.  She apologizes, holds me for awhile, helps me up, and we continue walking.  I smoke more, and realize I’m too far gone.  I’m nowhere.  I can&#x27;t get back.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We return to the party.  I have no idea what time it is, but once again, I kept having to keep up with these people who seemed to be walking waaay too fast for me.  The party has died down significantly.  I fall back down on the couch, only to be awoken by the most blackest words I’ve ever heard.  &#x27;Cops are here!  Go out the back!&#x27;  They know I’m on acid.  They&#x27;ve come for me.  They&#x27;ve come for me to inject me with their drugs and make me normal again.  I don&#x27;t want the cops to make me normal again because they&#x27;ll tell my parents and it will ruin my life.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I run for the backdoor as the cop enters.  Something tells me to stop.  I can hear T&#x27;s voice.  She&#x27;s talking to the cop, but she&#x27;s also talking to me.  &#x27;Come back, Adam.  You&#x27;re safe here.&#x27;  I listen to her and try to play normal until he leaves.  I go back to the couch and he departs.  I close my eyes.  T tells me everyone has left.  I say goodbye and she offers to let me stay over.  I decline, knowing her parents will be home, and knowing they will know I’m on acid because everyone knows you&#x27;re tripping when you&#x27;re tripping.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I leave.  But where am I going?  I walk for what seems like an hour, poorly dressed for the bitter cold, only to arrive back at her house, which is a good thing, because someone stole my zippo and there&#x27;s no way I’m walking that walk without butts.  I reenter her house, much to her surprise and the remaining two people there.  I request matches, and upon receiving them, venture back into the wilderness of my town&#x27;s winding streets.  I’m beginning to remember how to get home.  I keep seeing headlights behind me and make sure I stay on the sidewalk because I can&#x27;t tell when there are real headlights or not.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Whenever I lift a butt to my mouth, my finger melts to my lips, but this only occurs when I’m smoking.  I keep hearing the opening bass riff to limp bizkit&#x27;s &#x27;rearranged&#x27; in the distance and I think it&#x27;s one of my friends creeping up to give me a ride home.  There are people behind me.  I can hear them.  I whip my head around to see them, but the sudden motion blurs my vision every time.  I’m so scared and so cold.  At some point, I sit down on a curb and sob quietly to myself for a minute or so.  I don&#x27;t know.  I felt humongous grief, like a close friend had died.  Maybe I had died.  Maybe I was weeping for myself.  There&#x27;s no way to tell.  Finally, through some miracle, I arrive home.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Thank god for something.  My mom is out.  Wait.  Why is that bike in front of the garage?  Is that my bike?  Wait.  I don&#x27;t own a bike.  I have a car.  But that&#x27;s not a car.  That&#x27;s a bike.  Most definitely... A... Bike...hmmm...either way, I better put it in the garage.  There&#x27;s those headlights again.  Only this time, they&#x27;re real.  And it&#x27;s coming from my mom&#x27;s car.  She&#x27;s home. Oh god.  She&#x27;ll know.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I quickly put the bike down and enter the house.  I run up the stairs, change into pajamas, shut and lock my door.  I climb into bed and try to calm down, but she saw me and I can&#x27;t pretend to be asleep and if she wants to talk to me, I’m dead.  I hear her open the door and come up the stairs towards my room.  I can feel her near my door.  Then it&#x27;s gone.  I hear the door open again, I hear footsteps louder than before up the stairs.  I know she&#x27;s by my door.  Then it&#x27;s gone.  This goes on for I’d estimate 10 minutes before I realize my brain is stuck on some loop and I can&#x27;t figure out how to stop it.  I look at the clock.  It&#x27;s 2:32am.  I want this to end.  Now.  She&#x27;s been entering the house and going upstairs for so long!  Oh god!  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I close my eyes and roll over, and it gradually subsides.  I roll back the other way to check the time.  It&#x27;s now 3:44am.  Wow.  I lost some major time there.  Where&#x27;s T?  Oh god, I wish T was here.  I don&#x27;t know why, but she&#x27;s become the center of my universe and the focal point of this trip.  I wish T was here to hold me in her arms, stroke my hair, and tell me I’ll be alright.  With that image firmly in place, I now feel calm enough to go to sleep, and I do.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
All in all, I learned a great deal from this experience.  First, SET AND SETTING ARE NOT TO BE IGNORED.  Never, EVER consider doing acid for the first time in unfamilar settings with unfamiliar people on the spur of the moment.  I’m not kidding about this.  Also, prepare to feel like shit the next day.  I don&#x27;t know if this was caused by my bad trip, but seeing as that is my only frame of reference, I’d have to assume you always feel like that.  I felt chronically depressed, not wanting to eat or leave my bedroom.  Although I’m sure I had many insights that night, most were overshadowed or completely forgotten... 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Except one.  I realized that I did have feelings for T.  At that point in time, though, I barely knew her, so maybe it was like a prophecy, because now I guess you could say we&#x27;re seeing each other.  Maybe that night we did bond, or maybe we didn&#x27;t.  It&#x27;s hard to tell.  But I definitely have to do acid one more time, at least.  I refuse to allow this bad experience to be my only experience.  Next time will be with experienced trippers in a comfortable location.&lt;!-- End Body --&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;br style=&quot;clear:both;&quot;&gt;


&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: 1999&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 2297&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: Oct 7, 2001&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 5,103&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=2297&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=2297&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) : Various (28), Difficult Experiences (5), First Times (2)&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;