My friend almost died multiple times last night, on 1.5 mg 25i-NBOH and 50mg Methoxetamine.
D: I was on 20mg of 2c-b and 60mg of Methoxetamine. Two others were with us (E and K) and one (Z) was on the same combination and dosage as me another another (E) was on .7mg of 25i-NBOH and 50mgs of Methoxetamine. We were all going to mix 20mg of 2c-b and 50mg of MXE, but the two decided on either doing an NBOMe or an NBOH. K decided he wanted to do 25i-NBOH and E decided to follow suit but there was only .7mg of NBOH left and was about to mix it with 25c-NBOMe when I advised him not to mix different N-benzyl PEA derivatives because what I understood about the hospitalizations and fatalities during the festival season in the US in 2012, many cases were linked to a vendor that was selling mixed blotters. E listened to my advice and decided not to mix them. The four of us planned to dose at my place, walk downtown to see all the holiday lights, stop and grab our things on the return, and then head to E’s abode. We dosed and then we headed out, it was chilly but we were dressed warmly and the town at night during the winter tripping is so beautiful. Our friend K was with and got all quiet, sluggish sometimes and wouldn’t respond to our questions. This sort of behavior for K while he is tripping isn’t unusual or a sign of distress but usually indicates that he is peaking. We relaxed for a bit as we sat on a hill by the creek and watched the stars before continuing. We decided that it was cold and that it was still a bit of a journey to walk all the way downtown if we planned on continuing to walk more so we decided to return to my place to grab our things and then head elsewhere. We briefly interacted with my roommates but my friends I was with I think felt self-conscious about interacting with people who weren’t tripping so we went upstairs so gather our things. Our motivation for leaving this time was low because except for Z, we were all extremely +++ed. I was tripping on 2c-b very hard and essentially rolling on the floor in ecstasy demanding all the cuddles from my friends, to which they obliged. I have a string of Tibetan prayer beads my friend Z gifted me and sometimes when I am in a strong psychedelic state I have the tendency to get very energetic with playing with beads (or any item that is repeated and linked together) in a manner that half resembles rave liquid dance and a half a martial art that is very frenetic and fluid. My friend E picked up on my vibes and started chanting the Vajra Guru Mantra.
E: *re-rwip* backtrack for a sec
So, D is demanding the cuddles and he’s like, vibratory, I’ve gone way out on 2C-B before and it felt like the same hyperactive rippling body high was emanating off of him in tangible waves. As he appears to be peaking, he stands up and essentially declares that what is good about being human is to be on 2C-B. After he calms down some, Z asks to insufflate 10 mgs of 2C-B which I stand and prepare for him. I feel like this is considered a questionable move by the other researchers, but considering his reported inability to react to his oral dose, it seemed reasonable. I’ve always stood by 10mgs insufflated as a good (if not a bit painful) and almost guaranteed way of breaking through. I felt like Z was an engine that wanted NOS, his face turns red and his eyes are tearing up as he sits half lotus and observes, commenting occasionally on his experience. K is laying next to me in a silent state and D is whipping around his prayer beads ecstatically. Something happens and then it is my turn to hold the mala and spin time. The only problem is I haven’t been paying attention in the slightest, I am a plussed consciousness composed of galaxies, each of us there in meditation was a universe interconnected. I had halted the motion of the beads and collapsed the system of interaction, wars broke out, resources were scarce, millions, billions of life forms died. This was a disaster that was unheard of, a god had fallen from pristine thoughtless flowing nirvana and now would have an eternity in samsara, progressing through from the lowest hells to just maybe have a human embodiment again. Z asks me who Avalokiteshvara is and I can only give the smallest most insignificant description; the bodhisattva of compassion. I am supposed to recite mantras and histories and tell a story to spin the wheel of time, but all I can call to mind is the vajra guru mantra. I start chanting and each syllable unfolds in my heart, the other universes are appalled, how inappropriate, how bare bones. I raise a universe like a pirate flag, of charnal grounds, graveyard rites, and realization of ultimate connectivity. Like native americans from space and I’m chanting vajra guru mantra to keep it from total destruction, singing over pounding taiko drums and doing a grass dance. K screams, the vultures are taking him. No matter what I can’t look up, I’m on a spinning wheel in front of the host of peaceful and wrathful deities saying one insufficient prayer to keep us from being eternally tortured by metaphysical Satan who keeps nearly appearing. On my last iteration of ‘hung’ K screams and I cast off his vulture. He is in ecstasy, crying, I keep chanting to keep our little paperbag reality from being torn to shreds. We were outside of time again, and should be subject to a total cessation. “Get out yo’ palace Siddhartha!” goaded D shaking his prayer beads at me.It was my time for eternal punishment. First I rejected it, I claimed I was going home to see my mom. Mother Mary can’t be seen now, I’m held to this moment and Lucifer is just about to burst through the door. K screams again. I start chanting again on the wheel of fire and cast off his tormentor. We had all become self contained, selfish with the energy, there was capitalism blooming in all of our hearts and K was a third world country the size of a universe. I threw myself on his writhing body and did tonglen, pouring my love into him, asking Lucifer to whip me instead, whispering Merry Christmas into his ear. We all pass through the eye of a needle.
K continues to flex his whole body, swallowing his tongue, and turning red, we splash water on him, he gasps for air, comes to and would stumble around for a while before just freezing, arching his back, and turning red again. He was dead, I ran out to the street and tried to flag a car down for help, none of us had a cell phone, where were the roommates? I ran back into the room, K is standing, he looks at me in terror and screams again. The roommates are upstairs asking why the front door was open, we ask them to call an ambulance. We’re carrying K down the narrow stairs, he’s stiff and red again, Z spashes him with water and he slides down the steps. This is all happening wrong, K’s fine, why do we have to do this? The police show up [note: emergency was called for an overdose, 'my friend stopped breathing’ is a much better way to get the medical attention you need, anything involving drugs will bring the police first, possibly losing precious time] and interrogate K, he arches his back, spitting at them 'fuck you’ he manages. Classic.
K goes to the hospital, for all intents and purposes nothing technical was done by the emergency staff except for to grace us with their presence. After he is released from the hospital, we digest each others’ accounts of the night. K, a seasoned psychonaut, has done this same combinations before at a higher dose, and not experienced any similar symptoms. We decide to stop working with N,benzyl-phenethylamines. K reports having realized the grand deity of the conscious universe to be his very own consciousness and almost being born again as a baby. All in all a very strange Christmas evening.