&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;  &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/cocaine/&quot;&gt;Cocaine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
		 &lt;td class=&quot;dosechart-form&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;(powder / crystals)&lt;/b&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;2 - 3 hits&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;  T+ 1:00&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+ 5:30&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;
		 &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;110 lb&lt;/td&gt;
         &lt;/tr&gt;
	&lt;/table&gt;

&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;!-- End DoseChart  --&gt;
&lt;!-- Start Body --&gt;
Last year my life has changed considerably and I have been busy focusing on the subjects of ego and at times fighting it in myself or others. I came back to my home country for Christmas and didn&#x27;t socialize much, every reunion with friends made it seem like they cannot comprehend my current state of affairs. I decided to spend a New Years Eve all by myself in my big and well equipped attic room and set up some goals for next year, meditate on my reality and ask the invisible forces to teach me to focus. My friend (let’s call him Ken) who has been around for many years asked if he can come with his girlfriend (let’s call her Barbie) for two hours. I didn&#x27;t think they would affect my trip and invited them readily. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Throughout the day I had sniffed 3 mini lumps of coke (one small line altogether) to finish my carpentry project faster and smoked 2-3 hits of cannabis sativa. Last time I smoked and dosed around 8:30 and prepared my space for a eventful night. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Around 9:30 I dropped the first tab and started drawing. I was still working, feeling excited and giddy when Ken and Barbie arrived around 11. I invited them to draw, but the only piece of paper I could find was a pencil sketch of my self portrait from years ago. They decided to work on the existing structure instead of drawing something new and I joined in, covering the surface with tangled thin lines, looking like blood vessels or nerves. Each one had a specific style but I was the only one who reached further and further, covering with my tangles whatever they colored. I didn’t see anything wrong in it and they didn’t express their opposition. I pointed out that our energies and world views translate onto paper, but Ken immediately opposed it, saying it’s random. I didn’t feel like fighting for it, especially since if I only left their company I would get lost in a world of colors and subtle hallucinations which I preferred to his dominant, male and square energy. None of them acknowledged that I was tripping and treated me in any special way. We barely noticed midnight and wished each other good year which left me with a cynical aftertaste. My sister whom I consider to live in denial in shallow waters came up with her phantom, awkward boyfriend and the four of them gathered around the drawing while I was cringing like a chimp in front of the computer. I didn’t like their official, boring vibe. I invited them to draw (they were officious and reluctant, didn’t want to interfere, blah blah yadda yadda) and the way they all communicated with each other made me sad. Why were they all so happy to act like boring old people? I was aware that my normal life far away from this country was much more wild and weird, which none of them even wanted to be. Their existence around me made me think of myself as a spoilt child and them as my toys. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
My sister and her shadow left and I realized that Ken’s presence has a very square, forever organizing energy. He took away my focus and changed the mood in the room. It was not fascinating and magic anymore, it was a big square. I saw how he had always been like that (square only intensifying with age) and that my style was thin tangled lines, surrounding his squareness as it proceeded steadily, trying to put everything in his order. I observed the couple drawing and pointed out things about their style, feeling like their therapist, but they didn’t want to pick up the ball and open themselves up. I felt that they were closed tight and my ways didn’t work with them. I tried few things like movement, dance, but their grey shallow vibe didn’t inspire me.  They smoked some weed and I gave them wine, hoping to make them relax into wilderness. I was taking photos of them trying to see what I wanted to see but I always saw squares, inability to open, to be flexible. Was it only them or me as well? I admit I couldn’t even remember my techniques of opening people, I was feeling unsuccessful, the colors were pastel and dull. Ken, met my comments and remarks awakening his inner ape, primal male ego. I saw a monkey in his actions, aware of losing his influence and one of his females breaking out of his square which was dangerous for Barbie, his mate who was observing me from her submissive position, craving for more expression. I took some photos of the ape exposed and he wasn’t happy. We fought for the camera and I let go, he deleted them.  
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I realized I was in a strange state of mind and those things happening were not what I wanted. I started dressing Barbie up and taking photos of her while Ken was observing like an owner.  I realized the weird masquerade to please males. How I am also his female, for many years spending time together and now I take upon myself the role of a stylist of his treasure, the meek, docile, submissive, beautiful Barbie. She had no power in her, expressed no original thoughts that would oppose his, so she became a mannequin. She did things I asked her to do, but always looked at him for permission and I lost interest in her very quickly. If I only had her on my own! Ken the warden was always around, observing and squarely approving or disapproving. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Around 2am the vibe was still the same and I took another tab of acid, looking for the depth I was missing. I wanted them to leave, but it all felt like a mess. I wanted to solve this, to create a breakthrough, something to blow up and people to open themselves, but I was stuck in shallow water, in the despair of inertia, no growth. &lt;div class=&quot;pullquote-right1&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;pullquote-text&quot;&gt;I wanted to solve this, to create a breakthrough, something to blow up and people to open themselves, but I was stuck in shallow water, in the despair of inertia, no growth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  Ken looked like he wanted to communicate with me, but all he did was defend himself. He didn’t think that a psychedelic trip reveals any truths – it’s all enlargement of a random moment, fleeting element. In his square world there is no place for magic and he doesn’t appreciate my style anymore – style that is forever searching for depth and meaning, while he built a very functional square structure. We grew up to focus differently and our worlds have a very slight chance of coexisting. Any question that would risk penetrating his square into greater depth was left unanswered or thrown back at me. There was no feeling of love or communication, although I could see him saddened and trying to understand or communicate with my world – he simply couldn’t.  He considered a change in him but didn’t see a point in revealing to me his primal, shifting self. Every time he defended himself I saw the square, every time almost convincing me. It’s easy to follow the square. I saw them as my dolls that I didn’t know how to play with, scattered around the floor, not happy, painfully sane, not how I wanted them to be. I want people to express themselves beyond norms. They left around 4, after another heavy talk that again didn’t open anything. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I came to my kingdom feeling defeated and tried hard to change my point of view, but even though reality was splitting in front of my eyes into tiny pixels I could move and rearrange with my finger, there was no driving force, no light, no feeling of growth. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I called my man who lives on the other side of the globe. His baseline personality thinks in a very psychedelic way, always aware of the matrix, his hidden agenda to break out of it so he quickly tapped into my frequency. I expected him to entertain me, change my mood, help me make it different and he readily played along, but very quickly I would see the masquerade, multitude of things we can do with another human on the phone, roles we can play to fill up the empty space of matrix, rearranging our consciousness and atoms to influence others. When there’s nothing piercing the structure into the greater depth, nothing lost and separated how can anything new be created?  Now and then I would get lost in the colors of the drawing I was admiring, aimlessly moving the colors and depths. Long silence on the phone, when I knew the futility of my trip as long as I stay the observer. He was telling me about growth, always growing, his driving force and I would see impossible landscapes full of greenery sprouting into life, exciting, new and beautiful, although still squarely turning inside the matrix-square. He understood me, because he knew the square very well and wanted to break through it. Locked in this computer-like game interface I was craving primal, warm familiarity, love, closeness, but whenever he acted it out for me it seemed fake. Everything was fake, built of lumps of the same stuff. Nothing was satisfying. After a long talk that slowly took the stagnant qualities of my trip I decided to hang up and focus on myself. I was not able to create a positive change with another person, even with the ego fighter I value so much. Problem has to lie within me. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I wasn’t connected into anything bigger, but stranded in a game where nothing happens anymore. I searched for god, for light to direct me and drive me and started listening to “Science of being great” by W.D. Wattles which is my habit to program myself into growing a strong structure of principles that I believe I am lacking. I sat upright observing my surroundings. Things. Made of little things, tiny atoms. My reality was vast and empty like an atom. I want something so I live, work and move. No matter what they are made of they are still in here, part of the square. The book sounded like it was a salesman, pushing to me a very attractive worldview – the driving force and light are mine if I only want them and apply changes in my thinking. I was trying to focus on gratitude but in my vibration it was not conceivable. Seeing things around me – my paintings, a big map of the world, hearing the reassuring voice of a salesman,  I saw my personality projected onto the 3d canvas and I knew it was a point to check and reset my life programs. I could see all the programs I was running – doing no harm, looking for depth, obeying the male, indulging in expression, escape from being normal and boring. The book was programming me to want certain things and  following the words I noticed how it makes it impossible to leave the square, the game matrix. However positive and growth promoting, this could be exactly what we listen to submerged in our incubators in “Matrix”, priming us so skillfully that we never notice we are in it. I followed one desire and fear after another, to and fro, and couldn’t conceive of what could be beyond. I was trapped in this empty atom of the game, aware of the thin lines I have built that hide nothing, no principles, no light. Just empty space I can furnish with beliefs. What I want and fear creates my life and is the only driving force. But my ship is big enough to have more power, a bigger light driving it. 
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Things were glowing and unreal, if I looked at them closer I would see more visual depth, splitting into impossible images, but instead of fooling myself with trippy patterns I chose the overview. I listened to some music but my mood was lacking warm cheer and inspiration I had been hoping for. Searching for the driving force in the song lyrics I realized it is only praising and describing itself and it can be as fake as everything else. If the artist believes in it, it will be well received. I made some line drawings I didn’t like and went to bed around 7am, feeling troubled and concussed. I howled like a wolf and understood why they do it, the primal scream of being locked and craving to know more. I wanted to scream “Fuck the square” but I knew I am a part of it and it is within me. The square is always there, the matrix we exist in is very shallow. It’s for us to discover and build a deeper thought structure which will prepare a deeper truth to emerge for next generations.  As I lay there I was thinking about changing my patterns. Be more piercing, turn the square around. Whenever I meet the square I will know it and the only way to change it is right through it. You can never move things as long as you stay an observer. What lies beneath?&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: 2015&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 107657&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: 25&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Published: Oct 22, 2022&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 905&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=107657&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=107657&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), Cannabis (1), Cocaine (13) : Combinations (3), General (1), 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;

&lt;/div&gt;