&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;4 hits&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;/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;125 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 had experimented with LSD before, amongst other drugs, all throughout my high school years.  I ate my fist hit of blotter acid while sitting in first period Geometry, sophomore year.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Junior year, prom weekend, and many trips later, my friends and I decided to skip the traditional &#x27;weekend at the beach&#x27; following our prom, and get a camping trip together instead.  5 of us piled into a Blazer, and armed with a few cases of beer, a substantial amount of pot, and roughly 20 hits of Felix the Cat.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We dropped as soon as we got to the campsite.  It was nothing special, a state park, but it suited our needs.  Although it was still daylight, my friends began openly smoking and drinking beer.  Being 16/17, and generally leary of &#x27;The Man&#x27;, I protested such an obvious display of underage drinking.  However, I quickly began to succumb to the acid, and retreated into the tent.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The familiar jolt of energy and excitement that accompanied the onset of a trip was absent.  Instead, I began to feel very tired, which worried me, having eaten 4 hits an hour previous.  I layed on my back, staring at the tents roof, and tried to enjoy the intense visuals which had come on a little too quick for my liking.  The tents roof was my canvas, and upon it i saw swirling deep vortexes of color, faces, melting into faces, melting into faces, some familiar, most not.  Vivid, vivid pcitures, which almost seemed to make a soft scraping sound, as they slid along the rough material of the tent.  It was beautiful, but I could not shake that feeling of tiredness, which was joined by a sense of impending doom.  I was aware of my feelings, and new I was letting the acid get to me, and was determined to pull myself out of it, before I went any deeper.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
As I pulled myself up off the floor, and started out of the tent to join my commrades, I heard a car pull up to the campsite.  Unnerved, I peered outside, only to see a State Police car sitting no less than three feet from the tent.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I sat back down.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I heard the doors open, feet, crunching the soil beneath them, the offensive &#x27;DOODLE DOODOODOOT&#x27; of the officers walkie talkie.  I heard the initial questions...How old, from where, names, ID, beer, where, how much, any dope, who else is in the tent?  My cue.  I stepped out, eyes straight down, and joined my friends.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
We were forced to pack up all the beer into their trunk, then, we were ordered to pack up our stuff and leave the park.  Leave the park?  Where would we go?  Heads full of acid, two states from home, no money.  I ventured back into the tent to collect my belongings, as the officers watched from their vehicle.  I heard my friend behind the tent, trying to stifle a fit of laughter, as he freed one of the tent spikes, and dropped the entire tent on top of me.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Fast forward.  What started out as a bad trip induced by my unfamiliar surroundings, in the woods, and friends getting on my nerves, had taken an interesting turn.  Luckily, our driver had ingested only one hit, and was able to drive.  We drove, in search of a motel, getting lost in a Penn. town, which time had seemingly forgotten.  One &#x27;Inn&#x27;, had men in suspenders and greased handlebar mustaches shooting billiards and smoking cigars.  I swear i saw a woman wearing a classic 1920s gown, although I can hardly recall if it was real or not.  This was nearly 3 hours into my trip, and the visuals had been reduced greatly, but reality was now beyond my grasp.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Lucky for us, my friend had been a boy scout, and recalled there being a boy scout camp in the area.  We abandoned the motel idea, and set out.  We arrived, and grabbed only some blankets and a transistor radio, not eager to pitch the tent.  We picked a spot close to a waterfall, deep within the trees, and settled in.  Finally relaxed, and quiet with my thoughts, I began to assess where I was mentally.  I found I was still annoyed at the whole ordeal, but felt good.  Converstaion dwindled, and we were lost in the acid.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
It was the noise of the waterfall that got to me.  That unstoppable roaring, which would under normal circumstances might be pleasing, began to reshape in my brain.  I began to replay the noise, backward, slowed down, and quicker still, tweaking the sound.  When I got bored of the game, I tried to move on, but found the noise was inescapable.  The roaring was louder than ever, and playing at a lower pitch than normal.  I spoke, in an attempt to divert my thoughts, and end the audible halluciantion, my most profound to date.  When I spoke, however, my voice trailed off, and I heard it repeated, as if echoed, over and over, growing more faint, but increasing in tempo, as if circling the group.  My words seemed to travel upwards, and increasing in speed, much the way a marble will travel down a funnel.  Finally, with a *pop*, they were lost to the sky.  I waited for a reaction from my friends, not realizing until then that this hallucination was my own.  They remained quiet, as if I had not spoken.  I did not repeat myself.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
As chatter did spring up, the same &#x27;funnel effect&#x27; would always happen to their words.  I knew I was alone in hearing such things, as it was so maddening, none suffering the same would dare to speak.  Every so often, I heard a faint moaning, seeming to come from the sky, from all around me.  I tried to ignore it.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Soon, their voices began to slow in tempo, which was terrifying.  Like a record playing, and turning the power off, any sound started normal, and gradually came to a standstill.  As I sat up, and opened my eyes, silently begging for some moonlight so as to focus on some visuals, I noticed that not only the sound of their voices, but all around me slowed as well.  The trees blowing in the wind, the water hitting the rocks, and life as I knew it, that electric hum that exists in everything, slowed to a standstill, before starting back up, over and over.  I found that everything began to slow only as I lay still.  Life started back up when I moved.  I realized I had to keep moving, for if Life were to stop completely, it would end.  I could not let it stop.  I had to keep moving, forever.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I became terrified.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I was so lost in my trip, that I dont know how I came to be walking, holding my blanket out in front of me like a child.  I was following my friends through a grassy field, all four of them in front of me.  I turned, and saw a few more behind me.  This confused me, as there were only five of us total, including me.  I broke into a run, trying to reach the figure I was following, but I could get no closer.  The closer I got, the further away the figure went.  I stopped, and my friend strolled alongside me.  &#x27;Who are we following?&#x27; I asked.  He claimed he didnt know.  I think I saw fear in his eyes, but couldnt be sure.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I am still not sure why we came to be walking.  We found a nice, (quiet) area in the tall grass, away from the water, and spent the rest of the night staring at the beautiful sky.  The stars, colors, movements, were amazing, and I was all too happy to have my visuals returned to me, being out under the direct moonlight.  On it&#x27;s downslope, the trip had taken an altogether unexpected turn for the better.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Soon, the Sun began to rise, and reality began to sweep back in.  I felt like I had been hit by a truck, yet I was happy.  Later, coming off the rest of my trip in a tire park we discovered  that morning, I heard that moaning noise again, however faint.  I popped my head out of the tire in fright, but as I did, the noise vanished.  When I retreated into the tire, the noise returned.  I attributed the noise to a plane overhead, it&#x27;s drone reverbing in the tire.  We went home.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
In the weeks to follow, I remained very paranoid, and nervous around certain noises, and trees of a certain shape...real abnormal fears which made no sense, yet they remained.  I tried to connect with my friends on it, but they hadnt experienced the same audible hallucinations I had.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
That, was the last one.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
In retrospect, I think it was my mood, the surroundings, the police encounter, and the dark which all attribiuted to my very real fear of this drug.  Nearly 10 years later, the thought of that night still makes me nervous.  Setting is critical to a good trip, so be safe.&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: 1995&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 13509&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: Mar 10, 2005&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 18,282&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=13509&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=13509&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) : Small Group (2-9) (17), Post Trip Problems (8), Difficult Experiences (5)&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;