DOSE:	50 mg	oral	Amphetamines	(pill / tablet)
	0.5 bowls	smoked	Cannabis	(plant material)

BODY WEIGHT:

130 lb

My sister has some sort of learning disablity, and years back, some doctor put her on Adderal for a few seconds, so there's a large bottle of abandoned and long forgotten speed. I used to pop a couple before Comedy Troupe Shows, but they didn't do much. Lately I've been going through the drugs in the medicine cabinet and trying the ones society deems most ripe for abuse (uppers, downers, Vicodin, etc.) Tonight was the night for the amp. I looked it up online to make exactly sure what it was, how much it was, and what it could/should do. I decided that a pure amphetamine high could be a bit unpleasant, and decided to combine it with a small amount of pot. I looked up dosing and decided to take 50mg.

I swallowed them all at once with some water. It was about 1:30. I immediately went into my room and got my bowl. I went downstairs, went into the garage, loaded my piece and toked up. I had taken a few good hits of the herb when it (the herb, not the speed) started to hit. But it was coming up fast, and hitting me really hard. By the time is was done (I had taken a few more hits during the rush) I could only manage a few drags before I sensed that any more would be a waste, and might get me too fucked up to notice the speed, and observe myself. I staggered back, it hit me so hard, and all of a sudden all the sound was muted, at about half volume, and sounded a little muffled. I staggered back over to the cooler I had been sitting on, and decided that this new force was coming from the speed as well as the pot. I was dizzy, and my head was spinning. My body felt weak.

I closed my eyes, and began to experience mild visual/aural synasthesia. I could see the noises but superimposed on my normal vision. I tiny creak became a few sizzling white pixels sparking on a black background, in the bottom right of my eyes, all in a digitized 2D. As the noise intensified it popped into 3d, back into real life. There was a wave of white noise, and it looked like waves and ripples emanating outward from a point in my in the center of the low field of my vision. Then it faded away. I took one final hit. I decided to go back inside, turned off the light, but when I tried to open the door to the garage, I realized that I had locked myself out. In order to get back in the house, I had to open the garage door to get to the spare key, and the noise from the garage door opener would probably wake my parents, especially my dad, who sleeps right above the garage.

Most times, in such a situation I would totally freak, and get completely pot paranoid. Not so this time. I got into the house without dillying or panicking. I heard my father coming downstairs, so I walked to the bathroom and locked myself in. I heard my dad call out 'Hello?'. I had no problem maintaining in the brief dialog that followed. I told him I'd locked myself out in the garage, by way of explanation. He opened the door, and I know he smelled the pot, but we both pretend not to notice when we catch the other smoking (the beautiful glass pipe I smoked out of used to be his, but after I borrowed it without permission so many times, he gave it to me as an 18th birthday present.) Anyway, I'm an adult now, and in college. I might get a little talk tommorow.

I waited till a few minutes after I heard him get to his room, and close the door. I staggered upstairs to my room, took off my pot smelling clothes, and went into the computer room. It was about 2:30. I logged onto an online service where you input a song or artist, and it plays music you'll like. The music was crazy, and it was getting to me. After a few minutes, my dad came out and said 'Time for bed'. I turned off the computer, and went back in my room. I turned out the light, and put on my headlamp, set for 'night vision' red LED, bathing everything in a dim, bloodred light. I picked up the book I was reading, got on my bed, got under a blanket, and began to pick off where I had left off. I was getting cotton-mouth, but I wasn't terribly thirsty, and I didn't want to bother getting a drink, so I sucked all the saliva in my mouth, and swallowed. I started tweaking mildly with my fingers for a few minutes. It was getting hot under the blanket.

The book (Earthfall by Orson Scott Card) is part of a series with a delibrate biblical cast. As I read, I got crazy speed style inspiration. It was so sublime, subtle, and brilliant I knew I needed to write it down. Normally I never right down my flashes of psychoactive inspired insight while still under the influence, being all too aware of how useless they will be when I'm sober, but this stuff was so good that I knew I had to write it down. I got all kinds of insight, about both the book, and the nature and temperament of God in the conventional Deist sense, in various different categories and I scribbled them down in a bizzare organization pattern.

Normally I never right down my flashes of psychoactive inspired insight while still under the influence, being all too aware of how useless they will be when I'm sober, but this stuff was so good that I knew I had to write it down. I decided that God was mentally ill, which explained all the weird shit in the world. Normally I never right down my flashes of psychoactive inspired insight while still under the influence, being all too aware of how useless they will be when I'm sober, but this stuff was so good that I knew I had to write it down. I crawled onto the floor, and kneeled. I was listing all the mental disorders, complexes, as well as various states of mind, emotions, and attitudes of God, and I scribbled them down in a bizzare organization pattern. I ran out of space on the little scrap of paper I was writing, on, so I tore off another piece and duct taped in to the first piece, so I would know they went together.

I was looking for more paper for a new set of notes, when I found last year's School Directory for the giant high school that I didn't go to, but did Theatre Guild, Comedy Troupe at, and had a lot of friends (and a few ex-girlfriends) at. I wanted to find out what year somebody I had just ran into a few days ago was, so I looked him up. Then I looked up his friend. Then I speed-read, looking for names I knew. I was in freshman, at the back. When I finished them, I started over at the beginning, with Seniors. I was tweaking my fingers as fast as I could against the pages. The were getting really sweaty, and when I'd stop every 30 seconds or so when I needed to turn the page, I'd move my fingers together, and feel the grit caught in the sweat. I could feel the sweat evaporating, cool against the spaces between my fingers.

My knees were getting tired, so I got back on the bed, bringing the directory with me. I continued to scan through, going through it in it's entirety a few times before I was done. I tried to remember the insights I was about to right down before I ran out of space and was distracted, but they weren't so clear, and I thought I might be missing something, so I re-read some of the part that had given me the insight, and they started flooding back. I had read to a little after I had left off, when I went back down to the floor, and rummaged around till I could find my poetry notebook. I found it, ripped out two black pages, and tore off a piece the size of the pieces I had been writing on. I soon determined that this wouldn't be enough space for the information I needed to write down, much less the way I wanted it organized on the paper. I took the other, unmutilated piece of paper, put a hardcover book under it, and started writing. When I was done, I decided that my dad was safely asleep, and I could get back on the computer. It was almost 4:00. Time was going by real fast.

I put on some clothes, got my stuff, went back into the computer room, and booted it up. I turned the music back on, which was bliss and put up a window to write down everything it played that I wanted to download later. I went to online and began to write this. I've been writing continuously ever since, only taking 30 seconds off here or there to mess with music and write down songs. It's 5:44, right now, and the high shows no sign of letting up. For the past hour and a half, I've been tweaking by sucking at my mouth, and grinding my teeth. It's completely unconscious. After a while, it started to hurt a bit, and I realized for the first time that I was doing it. I stopped, and the second my mind resumed it's prior train of though, I started back up again, without realizing. I've tried to stop several times, each one of them ending the same. I'm still doing it. I still haven't had any water, and my mouth isn't so dry anymore. I can type very well, though, so my manual dexterity isn't affected.



After this description got to a certain length, I cut and pasted it from the submission window into a word processor, so I could save it. I'll add to it as the trip continues, and in the morning (or whenever I'm sober and conscious) I'll edit it and post it. My wrists hurt from so much typing, but I won't/can't stop. My body is stiff. It's 8:15. I'm going back into my room. The high is not quite as intense, but still very consistant, and going strong. When I stand up (I've been in my chair for a few hours, but it seems like nothing. This stuff anihilates time.) I'm clumsy, and I spill something. My mouth really hurts. I think I'm working it even harder, now. I haven't been doing any other tweaking, though. I think it's too late to try inducing halucinations. I'm quite mellow, rather like coming down off of oxycodone, and not at all tired.



Epilogue:

I sat in my bed reading. I tied a bandana around my face, with part of it in my mouth. Once my teeth couldn't get contact, I stopped gnashing my teeth almost immediately. At about 9:30 the high slowly started to wear off. By 11:00 it was gone. My body slowed down, and I slept for about 4 hours. When I woke up, I had a look at the stuff I had written down. I understood it, but it wasn't the dazzling flash of genius I'd thought it was. Overall, it was a fantastic and quite intense high, and I'm gonna do it again. Now that I know what to expect, I can focus on keeping myself from tweaking, and engage myself in a different activity every so often, which would make it a lot cooler.

Exp Year: 2005	ExpID: 49091
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Feb 29, 2008	Views: 16,680
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Amphetamines (6), Cannabis (1) : First Times (2), Combinations (3), Alone (16)