&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;3 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;(liquid)&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;190 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 was new to the entire drug culture, psychedelic and non, when I had my first trip. It was something that allowed me to see the deeper edges of my soul. I saw the abstractions of reality that, in turn, showed me the truth of my reality. (That&#x27;s some deeep shit.) I was open to it. Heck, I was on a roll since I&#x27;d recently started smoking pot. LSD was the next logical step (bitter sarcasm). I knew things would look strange and they told me all about the severance of reality and the other reality or realities my mind would create.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Looking back on it I wish it had happened differently. It was going to be my first trip and people I didn&#x27;t know all that well had decided it would be a good idea to give me three drops. I didn&#x27;t know any better, but I didn&#x27;t want to spoil anything. Also, we were smoking marijuana. Great set up so far, right? (Booo.) Anyway, so it was to be the four of us, my friend P-dog (Ha! No, that&#x27;s not what I really call him. Please.) and his two female friends (their names don&#x27;t matter because at all the interesting points I couldn&#x27;t tell them apart) and we were all going to spend the night at the girls&#x27; place. So I was with one person I knew in a foreign place, but then, at the time, like I said, I didn&#x27;t know any better.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Things started off simply enough. The four of us  were watching &#x27;Half-Baked&#x27; and I was smoking up with them like a good little pot-head stoner should and about 10 minutes after dropping, my entire body was hit with a wave of weight, everything was suddenly very heavy. But that, I&#x27;m sure, was just the pot. I was hoping it would relax me so that if anything really crazy happened I just wouldn&#x27;t care. Oh, the irony. I was all ready for the trip to begin so I just sat back and closed my eyes and relaxed. I started having what P-dog and I refer to as &#x27;crazy thinkin&#x27;,&#x27; which is basically thinking about things you never think about, nothing special. This went on for a while and somewhere along the way the movie had ended. When I finally opened my eyes all the regular lights were off and the black lights had come on. Then the fun began because the &#x27;real&#x27; reality began its rough split with the new realities.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Several different phases occurred. First I just sat there, listening to what the people around me were talking about. I didn&#x27;t feel like moving at all but I don&#x27;t know if I could have. I eventually did get up as the next half-hour or so was spent going back and forth from the kitchen with P-dog and one of the girls, trying to get my friend a drink of water. Each time we got to the kitchen he&#x27;d get distracted by something and we&#x27;d head back out and so on.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The next phase was where I lost hold of reality. My friend and I were lying on a futon with one of the girls and I had my eyes closed, still just relaxing. This time when I closed my eyes I had crazy thinkin&#x27; and all the typical crazy patterns. Sound became light which became shapes, etc. Cool shit. That must&#x27;ve lasted an hour or so, I think.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
When I opened my eyes later I was alone on the futon. I found out later that my friend during this time had sort of freaked out and the girls were tending to him (sort of.) They weren&#x27;t real helpful for my friend and I. He was in the other room, curled up in a ball in a closet and for some reason they were keeping me from him. So I sat down in the other room and I started thinking that he was dying or something; I got really anxious. One of the girls asked if I was ok and I guess I said I was ok a bunch of times but I only remember a couple times. I don&#x27;t know why she would keep asking me but then she was tripping as well.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
While my friend was in the other room, reality had slipped away and I was trying my best to deal with that fact. I kept asking the girl with me whether or not I was &#x27;really alive,&#x27; if I was &#x27;really there with her.&#x27; I soon felt like I was in some high-rise hotel and I was really rich and she was a prostitute. It was what my mind had put together in trying to figure out where I was and who I was. I then became abusive with her and the other girl who was now back in the room. (I guess P-dog was still in the closet.) Since I was rich and they were prostitutes I had license to curse at them and smack them around, which I promptly did. (I regret it somewhat but they weren&#x27;t really friends so I didn&#x27;t stress about it afterwards.) Then I got to thinking that I was the CEO/President of this international mega-corporation. Where else did the money come from? And then the pseudo-&#x27;visions of truth&#x27; came into play.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
I felt like what happened was that I was the chief of this company and that my entire life up until that point, my real life, had just been a bad acid trip. 20 years of my life weren&#x27;t real. I was blown away. I started reciting all the names and dates I could think of to see if they were familiar to the others, but of course they didn&#x27;t know what was going on. I felt like I didn&#x27;t know anyone around me, that who I thought they were wasn&#x27;t real. I started bawling saying I was coming to them &#x27;from ground zero,&#x27; that I didn&#x27;t know anything about the world, and I didn&#x27;t. I told my friend that he was now &#x27;God&#x27; to me. I was desperately reaching to him for help, but he couldn&#x27;t really help me in retrospect.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
Then I felt this amazing energy surge through me. My entire body tensed as it felt like I was suddenly omnipotent and didn&#x27;t have the knowledge to control the power. And that&#x27;s what I believed. I was giving off so much energy that when I opened my eyes to look at my friend, who was sitting with me on the floor at this point, it looked like I was literally blowing him away. Picture a candle that suddenly has a really, really hot heat lamp/fan blowing on it. Features just sliding back, his glasses melted onto his face, now nothing more than brown lines &#x27;drawn&#x27; on his skin. Everything in the room was being blown away. I was terrified and I started trying to get away from it all, closing my eyes, thrusting him away. Then my brain told me I was the true God, awakening from a mortal shell. The energy I gave off destroyed the physical world. All of it, the whole universe. And now it only existed in my head. I could only really enjoy the sensation of the power for a few moments at a time because then my friend was lying on top of me trying to calm me down, but the sweat I felt on my back was blood to me and it felt like he was melting all over me.
&lt;br&gt;

&lt;br&gt;
The last paragraph took about 4-5 hours real-time, so I&#x27;m told. It didn&#x27;t seem that long. But I got to thinking that maybe there&#x27;s something holding me back (returning to the pseudo-truths) that&#x27;s like a little linchpin that&#x27;s holding back a dam. Like, there&#x27;s something I need to break through and all my potential will come rushing out like the power I felt that night. The odd thing was that in the next few months I went through some psychological testing and they found that there was only one thing that was essentially holding back my abilities. It&#x27;s not a little pin that can be just popped out, but as soon as it&#x27;s conquered all my abilities can &#x27;rush forth,&#x27; if you will. I don&#x27;t know if I&#x27;d do LSD again, but I am intrigued by the insights it may show me. And besides, with the way the first trip sucked, I feel like I want to &#x27;get it right&#x27; and get the setting right for the next time, should it come.&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: 2000&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width=&quot;90&quot;&gt;ExpID: 624&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Gender: Not Specified&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 5, 2000&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Views: 11,335&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=624&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=624&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), 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;
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&lt;/div&gt;