AngelOfXTC20
07-08-2005, 22:28
http://img200.imageshack.us/img200/7078/pix2dr.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
To summarize how it all started: I was walking around with zer0502 from BL because out of pure coincidence it turns out he was going to Tokyo the same exact week I was. Well, after visiting every smoke shop of Roppongi and Shibuya, we discovered a smart shop that sold practically every RC known to man at a stand (I will not disclose the location). I bought some 2-CE, which is called Electric there, which I only took because it had been recommended to me by another myspacer. But immediately after intake, zer0502 complained about a stomachache, probably because of some brand of codeine he took. He was too sick to stay out so I dropped him back off at his hotel in Shiba Park and took the subway back to where we were, because the night does not end there. Watching the lights would make for an excellent trip, and the bars and clubs are open till 6A.M.
The moment it kicked in full blast was while I was exiting the subway. It occurred to me then, that I was left in the middle of the streets in Tokyo. All alone. With nothing but 1,000 yen (U.S. equivalent to $10). After JUST taking the 2-CE. I. Am. FUCKED.
As the trip grew with intensity, I came to an even harsher reality: THIS WAS THE DRUG THAT WAS GIVEN TO ME AS LSD, THE ONE THAT I HAD THOUGHT TO BE DOI OR DRAGONFLY. Based on all the same symptoms as that last horrible experience, I knew it was 2CE, or at the very least a 2C-related research chemical, possibly mixed in with another hallucinogen. The nausea, the water retention, the slow onset, the visuals, they were all too familiar to ignore.
I lost track of where I was walking, and stopped at an intersection to cross the street. But instead of waiting to use the pedestrian walkway, I jaywalked while the signal was still red. Keep in mind this is dangerous as HELL to do in a big city like Tokyo, where the drivers run amock like madmen of New York City, not to mention the fact that I was delirious on psychedelics at the time.
A taxi cab turning left towards me screeched his brakes to a halt and honked, but I barely noticed. A black guy yelled out in a Jamaican accent to "Hey, be careful!" Crossing the street, I made non-chalant eye contact with him, and moved past the crowd of shocked bystanders. I only had one mission in mind: Finding that smart shop I purchased the 2-CE at.
I found the vendor after stumbling down the main street across from Dankihote. He was selling and making small talk with one of his regular customers, a fashionable Japanese man in his late 20¡¯s. He asked me how I was doing, and I gestured with a shrug. He then asked if I was a model. I shook my head no, and diverted my attention towards the worker at the stand.
"Oh man, this 2-CE is really not a good drug for me," I sighed and wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. "I almost OD¡¯ed and died on this stuff."
"You don¡¯t feel happy? Oh no," His face filled with sympathy, "I am so sorry that the 2-CE was not a good match for you, I feel responsible. Look, if you¡¯re having a bad trip, just try listening to some music and focus your thoughts into something pleasant."
Coincidentally, I was lugging around a small backpack in preparation for departure to Kyoto the next morning. I had packed a pair of headphones and trance music the previous night to pass time in the 3-hour shinkansen bullet train ride. I was too exhausted to walk anywhere, so I politely asked for permission to sit next to his stop, which he allowed me to wholeheartedly. I flipped through my CDs (old school!) and put in Paul Oakenfold, Creamfields 2. Using my bag as a backrest, I leaned against it and sat on the pavement, more worried about being in a comfortable position than appearing demure. I noticed passerbys¡ªmostly men, both foreign and local¡ªstaring at my skimpy outfit, making obscene gestures and giving me suggestive looks. Some of them even came over to check out what was being sold at the smart shop, though they inevitably lost interest after discovering they were drugs. I closed my eyes to avoid their awkward ogling.
I suddenly felt even more nauseated, to the point of it almost being unbearable. I lifted my head and felt beads of sweat trickle down the front of my shirt. "Excuse me, how many mg¡¯s is in the bottle you sold me?"
He did the calculations in his head and came out with 30mg. I took over 1/2, so I estimated I took probably 20mg, which is already unusually high for a 2-CE trip (5-8mg already makes for a pretty good trip). I was losing so much water from excessive sweat, but I quickly learned that hydrating myself only intensified the hallucinatory (therefore delirious) effects and nausea.
I guess I looked like I was about to overdose, because I could hear that same customer and the salesperson arguing about what they should do through the blasting headphones, but I was too fucked up to respond.
"She looks really sick! Maybe we should get help."
"I don't know... I think she¡¯s just having a bad trip, she will be fine hopefully."
"How can you say that?!?!?! You yourself don¡¯t even take these chemicals! Look at how much she¡¯s sweating, that isn¡¯t normal!"
I wanted to tell them I was okay, but like last time, it was difficult to form words. I bobbed my head back up in an effort to signal them that I was somewhat coherent. I kept reminding myself that this was nothing compared to the other shit; I have been through much, much worse. The last thing I wanted to do was attract attention, and that one action was enough.
I heard from a distance, "Look, I think she¡¯ll be okay. As long as we keep an eye on her and she stays awake it will turn out fine."
My head was already lost in the progressive melodies, and it felt just as if the songs were controlling my very mindset. During an unorganized phrase, everything around me felt chaotic and so out-of-control I got fearful I would lose my sanity, and had to fast forward through it. During peaceful melodies, I couldn¡¯t help but philosophize about the perfection of all relations symmetrical in the universe.
I had a flashback about my last trip, which was primarily regarding the theory of reincarnation, and about merely being generations of the same people, simply evolving for a better future. However, I distinctly remember that there was one final part of my first 2-CE trip that I did not finish, and it was concerning the placement of everything in the universe. Before, I was shown a map that tracked the location of where we were all destined to be¡_but the one part of that hallucination that was missing¡ªthe final piece to the puzzle¡ªwas my own destination.
I focused all my energy and subconsciously timed it to when the repetitions of "Beautiful Day" (also the best song on this entire CD) began echoing, right at 4 minutes and 32 seconds. Eyes remained shut, the final piece to the map of fate, suddenly came rushing and unfolded before me at the peak of the song. 5:14.
I opened my eyes, and the visuals were FUCKING. AMAZING. The city lights pieced through my retinas, shattering through my very center and cracking my inner self into pieces. Was this the reason I had tripped all those neon lights during my first 2-CE trip, before I even knew it was about Tokyo?
http://img200.imageshack.us/img200/4279/shibuya9fh2mw.th.jpg (http://img200.imageshack.us/my.php?image=shibuya9fh2mw.jpg)
The city was absolutely gorgeous. Just sitting there alone on the pavement, gazing up at the night sky, it was all so profound and rich with life. My God. It was paradise, and EVERYTHING just fit so perfectly together. And it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I was purged of all destruction, and suddenly overwhelmed wit a fierce determination to persevere. And much to the two workers¡¯ dismay, I stood up immediately and reassured that I was fine, explaining that I just took too much and was having flashbacks of it. I apologized for causing them panic and trouble for not being more responsible.
A look of relief spread throughout both their faces, and the worker at the RC stand spoke first. "I felt bad for you. Usually when people do these drugs they have somebody with them to help them out during a bad rip. I¡¯ve never done these myself, and I didn¡¯t know what to do. I was getting so worried."
I learned then that he himself did not take the substances he was selling. As a member of the older generations, he strongly believed in consuming only natural products and had no experience with any chemicals aside from methylone.
"Weren¡¯t you scared all by yourself? Any ordinary person would have called police or an ambulance at the first hint of trouble."
I told him, "It¡¯s okay, I¡¯ve been through much worse, I¡¯ve learned to be patient and handle those kind of situations. Besides, I¡¯m always partying with people...Being with myself for once was a really refreshing change for me."
"I know the feeling."
The conversation eventually led to me asking how he gets away with police hassling him. He answered that all these drugs were actually legit and legal, just that his stand was so small and secluded it wasn¡¯t a big issue to local police. In fact, they even safely regulated it by doing a lab test on all the chemicals every night. I learned then that dealers and salespeople have as much responsibility to regulate safety by properly informing customers of the quality of product. So many times I have done my research, yet had close calls and almost died, because of misinformation or miscommunication from dealers.
I confided that I really feel for people in accidental OD situations, just because I could easily relate to them, having been through it all. I gave him tips on how he could minimize harm by including a detailed instruction in the most common international languages, and that selling in 3-dose liquid bottles (the kind he sold to me) was too inviting for an unknowledgeable buyer to make a purchase and down the entire 30mg, thereby creating a higher likelihood of incidence.
He proclaimed that I was very practical and had first-hand experience, therefore was very god at coming up with effective ways to reduce harm. He clarified that because of his inability to speak English, he could not properly express the VERY necessary and essential precautions one needs to take wit careful dosage to many of his customers whom were English-speaking tourists. Because of this, he has gotten arrested in the past due to kids (and adults) who end up misusing the drug, or mixing it with alcohol, resulting in fatalities.
I don¡¯t know what inspired me to be so free and open with this stranger (must have been the 2-CE), but I began talking to him about all sorts of experiences I have had with drugs, including my meth & coke OD, my first time with the 2-C substance, how I had quit meth recently for the second time recently, and so forth.
He complimented my wisdom, experience, impendence, and insight I had for someone of such young age, adding that I was so brave. "Many times we are often judged as brainless, low-life scums without so much of a second thought. And sometimes I think it¡¯s true sometimes. But you are different...It¡¯s a nice change from the rest."
I asked what he meant.
"Just more grown up. You realize what many adults still do not know. How old are you anyways? 22? 23?"
"Nineteen."
"19?!?!?!!? SHIT!!!" He couldn¡¯t believe it. "That¡¯s incredible! You are REALLY something! You are young but you take so much action, I wish I could be like you. You have much power and are so unique, I bet you get told that all the time!"
I shrugged. "I guess, but I¡¯m just average."
"No way," he insisted. "You have no fear, I really admire that. I am amazed that you can do all these things."
"I¡¯m just bored," I laughed, and he did too.
He got serious again. "I really mean it, no joke. You will definitely make it big somewhere¡_ I can feel it."
We shared an instant bond. I discussed my dreams of finishing my first book and selling it world-wide, but about how I lacked an effective marketing tactic. A light went off in my head when he offered to sell my book at his stand. Being related to drugs, it would sell very easily. He also sparked interest in hiring me; after all, I was bilingual, young, and Westernized, therefore would attract a lot of foreign customers. But unlike any other young bilingual worker, I was actually experienced and knowledgeable about the drugs, therefore had potential to create much profit.
So, in the middle of one of the busiest streets of Tokyo, two strangers proposed a business deal. It was like some force of good fortune brought us together, and persuaded me to take the 2-CE for this purpose, instead of the 5-MeO-DMT I always wanted to do. And it worked out just perfectly.
All my life, I have been told I should do something in pharmaceutics, but lacked the motivation to attain a chemistry degree, or the desire to hold a job in such a position with expected formalities. I have also been told I should look into becoming a celebrity or idol of some sort, considering I have people of all ages and backgrounds saying they look up to me as some sort of role model. But I would not have felt self-fulfilled simply being a mindless model or attention whore where I would not get a chance to express myself and live a worthy life, so I have lastly been encouraged numerous times to pursue creative writing as a living.
And now I have found a happy medium where I can do all three, in this environment. This is when it hit me that I really want to live here. All these events led me back to my homeland for a reason. This place has everything I want: Relaxed atmosphere, multi-cultural environment, culture, freedom, choice, diversity, good food, high fashion, and an active night-life.
http://img69.imageshack.us/img69/4773/roppongi0bl3xa.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
http://img69.imageshack.us/img69/3122/roppongi23gj0ft.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
I spent all night exchanging stories and sharing experiences with a complete stranger all night in a still-technically foreign country. And you know what, I had the time of my LIFE. We watched the sun rise on my comedown, and it was absolutely breathtaking. It was a truly unforgettable experience.
We exchanged phone numbers, in preparations of making business plans upon my return from Kyoto, and parted at the subway. Feeling new, refreshed, and most of all, ALIVE, I disappeared in my train headed towards Daimaru, listening to the same U2 cover song on repeat, anxious for what the future would bring.
I ended my trip in the subway, from when it all initially began. I can¡¯t wait to discover what¡¯s waiting for me in Kyoto.
To summarize how it all started: I was walking around with zer0502 from BL because out of pure coincidence it turns out he was going to Tokyo the same exact week I was. Well, after visiting every smoke shop of Roppongi and Shibuya, we discovered a smart shop that sold practically every RC known to man at a stand (I will not disclose the location). I bought some 2-CE, which is called Electric there, which I only took because it had been recommended to me by another myspacer. But immediately after intake, zer0502 complained about a stomachache, probably because of some brand of codeine he took. He was too sick to stay out so I dropped him back off at his hotel in Shiba Park and took the subway back to where we were, because the night does not end there. Watching the lights would make for an excellent trip, and the bars and clubs are open till 6A.M.
The moment it kicked in full blast was while I was exiting the subway. It occurred to me then, that I was left in the middle of the streets in Tokyo. All alone. With nothing but 1,000 yen (U.S. equivalent to $10). After JUST taking the 2-CE. I. Am. FUCKED.
As the trip grew with intensity, I came to an even harsher reality: THIS WAS THE DRUG THAT WAS GIVEN TO ME AS LSD, THE ONE THAT I HAD THOUGHT TO BE DOI OR DRAGONFLY. Based on all the same symptoms as that last horrible experience, I knew it was 2CE, or at the very least a 2C-related research chemical, possibly mixed in with another hallucinogen. The nausea, the water retention, the slow onset, the visuals, they were all too familiar to ignore.
I lost track of where I was walking, and stopped at an intersection to cross the street. But instead of waiting to use the pedestrian walkway, I jaywalked while the signal was still red. Keep in mind this is dangerous as HELL to do in a big city like Tokyo, where the drivers run amock like madmen of New York City, not to mention the fact that I was delirious on psychedelics at the time.
A taxi cab turning left towards me screeched his brakes to a halt and honked, but I barely noticed. A black guy yelled out in a Jamaican accent to "Hey, be careful!" Crossing the street, I made non-chalant eye contact with him, and moved past the crowd of shocked bystanders. I only had one mission in mind: Finding that smart shop I purchased the 2-CE at.
I found the vendor after stumbling down the main street across from Dankihote. He was selling and making small talk with one of his regular customers, a fashionable Japanese man in his late 20¡¯s. He asked me how I was doing, and I gestured with a shrug. He then asked if I was a model. I shook my head no, and diverted my attention towards the worker at the stand.
"Oh man, this 2-CE is really not a good drug for me," I sighed and wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. "I almost OD¡¯ed and died on this stuff."
"You don¡¯t feel happy? Oh no," His face filled with sympathy, "I am so sorry that the 2-CE was not a good match for you, I feel responsible. Look, if you¡¯re having a bad trip, just try listening to some music and focus your thoughts into something pleasant."
Coincidentally, I was lugging around a small backpack in preparation for departure to Kyoto the next morning. I had packed a pair of headphones and trance music the previous night to pass time in the 3-hour shinkansen bullet train ride. I was too exhausted to walk anywhere, so I politely asked for permission to sit next to his stop, which he allowed me to wholeheartedly. I flipped through my CDs (old school!) and put in Paul Oakenfold, Creamfields 2. Using my bag as a backrest, I leaned against it and sat on the pavement, more worried about being in a comfortable position than appearing demure. I noticed passerbys¡ªmostly men, both foreign and local¡ªstaring at my skimpy outfit, making obscene gestures and giving me suggestive looks. Some of them even came over to check out what was being sold at the smart shop, though they inevitably lost interest after discovering they were drugs. I closed my eyes to avoid their awkward ogling.
I suddenly felt even more nauseated, to the point of it almost being unbearable. I lifted my head and felt beads of sweat trickle down the front of my shirt. "Excuse me, how many mg¡¯s is in the bottle you sold me?"
He did the calculations in his head and came out with 30mg. I took over 1/2, so I estimated I took probably 20mg, which is already unusually high for a 2-CE trip (5-8mg already makes for a pretty good trip). I was losing so much water from excessive sweat, but I quickly learned that hydrating myself only intensified the hallucinatory (therefore delirious) effects and nausea.
I guess I looked like I was about to overdose, because I could hear that same customer and the salesperson arguing about what they should do through the blasting headphones, but I was too fucked up to respond.
"She looks really sick! Maybe we should get help."
"I don't know... I think she¡¯s just having a bad trip, she will be fine hopefully."
"How can you say that?!?!?! You yourself don¡¯t even take these chemicals! Look at how much she¡¯s sweating, that isn¡¯t normal!"
I wanted to tell them I was okay, but like last time, it was difficult to form words. I bobbed my head back up in an effort to signal them that I was somewhat coherent. I kept reminding myself that this was nothing compared to the other shit; I have been through much, much worse. The last thing I wanted to do was attract attention, and that one action was enough.
I heard from a distance, "Look, I think she¡¯ll be okay. As long as we keep an eye on her and she stays awake it will turn out fine."
My head was already lost in the progressive melodies, and it felt just as if the songs were controlling my very mindset. During an unorganized phrase, everything around me felt chaotic and so out-of-control I got fearful I would lose my sanity, and had to fast forward through it. During peaceful melodies, I couldn¡¯t help but philosophize about the perfection of all relations symmetrical in the universe.
I had a flashback about my last trip, which was primarily regarding the theory of reincarnation, and about merely being generations of the same people, simply evolving for a better future. However, I distinctly remember that there was one final part of my first 2-CE trip that I did not finish, and it was concerning the placement of everything in the universe. Before, I was shown a map that tracked the location of where we were all destined to be¡_but the one part of that hallucination that was missing¡ªthe final piece to the puzzle¡ªwas my own destination.
I focused all my energy and subconsciously timed it to when the repetitions of "Beautiful Day" (also the best song on this entire CD) began echoing, right at 4 minutes and 32 seconds. Eyes remained shut, the final piece to the map of fate, suddenly came rushing and unfolded before me at the peak of the song. 5:14.
I opened my eyes, and the visuals were FUCKING. AMAZING. The city lights pieced through my retinas, shattering through my very center and cracking my inner self into pieces. Was this the reason I had tripped all those neon lights during my first 2-CE trip, before I even knew it was about Tokyo?
http://img200.imageshack.us/img200/4279/shibuya9fh2mw.th.jpg (http://img200.imageshack.us/my.php?image=shibuya9fh2mw.jpg)
The city was absolutely gorgeous. Just sitting there alone on the pavement, gazing up at the night sky, it was all so profound and rich with life. My God. It was paradise, and EVERYTHING just fit so perfectly together. And it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I was purged of all destruction, and suddenly overwhelmed wit a fierce determination to persevere. And much to the two workers¡¯ dismay, I stood up immediately and reassured that I was fine, explaining that I just took too much and was having flashbacks of it. I apologized for causing them panic and trouble for not being more responsible.
A look of relief spread throughout both their faces, and the worker at the RC stand spoke first. "I felt bad for you. Usually when people do these drugs they have somebody with them to help them out during a bad rip. I¡¯ve never done these myself, and I didn¡¯t know what to do. I was getting so worried."
I learned then that he himself did not take the substances he was selling. As a member of the older generations, he strongly believed in consuming only natural products and had no experience with any chemicals aside from methylone.
"Weren¡¯t you scared all by yourself? Any ordinary person would have called police or an ambulance at the first hint of trouble."
I told him, "It¡¯s okay, I¡¯ve been through much worse, I¡¯ve learned to be patient and handle those kind of situations. Besides, I¡¯m always partying with people...Being with myself for once was a really refreshing change for me."
"I know the feeling."
The conversation eventually led to me asking how he gets away with police hassling him. He answered that all these drugs were actually legit and legal, just that his stand was so small and secluded it wasn¡¯t a big issue to local police. In fact, they even safely regulated it by doing a lab test on all the chemicals every night. I learned then that dealers and salespeople have as much responsibility to regulate safety by properly informing customers of the quality of product. So many times I have done my research, yet had close calls and almost died, because of misinformation or miscommunication from dealers.
I confided that I really feel for people in accidental OD situations, just because I could easily relate to them, having been through it all. I gave him tips on how he could minimize harm by including a detailed instruction in the most common international languages, and that selling in 3-dose liquid bottles (the kind he sold to me) was too inviting for an unknowledgeable buyer to make a purchase and down the entire 30mg, thereby creating a higher likelihood of incidence.
He proclaimed that I was very practical and had first-hand experience, therefore was very god at coming up with effective ways to reduce harm. He clarified that because of his inability to speak English, he could not properly express the VERY necessary and essential precautions one needs to take wit careful dosage to many of his customers whom were English-speaking tourists. Because of this, he has gotten arrested in the past due to kids (and adults) who end up misusing the drug, or mixing it with alcohol, resulting in fatalities.
I don¡¯t know what inspired me to be so free and open with this stranger (must have been the 2-CE), but I began talking to him about all sorts of experiences I have had with drugs, including my meth & coke OD, my first time with the 2-C substance, how I had quit meth recently for the second time recently, and so forth.
He complimented my wisdom, experience, impendence, and insight I had for someone of such young age, adding that I was so brave. "Many times we are often judged as brainless, low-life scums without so much of a second thought. And sometimes I think it¡¯s true sometimes. But you are different...It¡¯s a nice change from the rest."
I asked what he meant.
"Just more grown up. You realize what many adults still do not know. How old are you anyways? 22? 23?"
"Nineteen."
"19?!?!?!!? SHIT!!!" He couldn¡¯t believe it. "That¡¯s incredible! You are REALLY something! You are young but you take so much action, I wish I could be like you. You have much power and are so unique, I bet you get told that all the time!"
I shrugged. "I guess, but I¡¯m just average."
"No way," he insisted. "You have no fear, I really admire that. I am amazed that you can do all these things."
"I¡¯m just bored," I laughed, and he did too.
He got serious again. "I really mean it, no joke. You will definitely make it big somewhere¡_ I can feel it."
We shared an instant bond. I discussed my dreams of finishing my first book and selling it world-wide, but about how I lacked an effective marketing tactic. A light went off in my head when he offered to sell my book at his stand. Being related to drugs, it would sell very easily. He also sparked interest in hiring me; after all, I was bilingual, young, and Westernized, therefore would attract a lot of foreign customers. But unlike any other young bilingual worker, I was actually experienced and knowledgeable about the drugs, therefore had potential to create much profit.
So, in the middle of one of the busiest streets of Tokyo, two strangers proposed a business deal. It was like some force of good fortune brought us together, and persuaded me to take the 2-CE for this purpose, instead of the 5-MeO-DMT I always wanted to do. And it worked out just perfectly.
All my life, I have been told I should do something in pharmaceutics, but lacked the motivation to attain a chemistry degree, or the desire to hold a job in such a position with expected formalities. I have also been told I should look into becoming a celebrity or idol of some sort, considering I have people of all ages and backgrounds saying they look up to me as some sort of role model. But I would not have felt self-fulfilled simply being a mindless model or attention whore where I would not get a chance to express myself and live a worthy life, so I have lastly been encouraged numerous times to pursue creative writing as a living.
And now I have found a happy medium where I can do all three, in this environment. This is when it hit me that I really want to live here. All these events led me back to my homeland for a reason. This place has everything I want: Relaxed atmosphere, multi-cultural environment, culture, freedom, choice, diversity, good food, high fashion, and an active night-life.
http://img69.imageshack.us/img69/4773/roppongi0bl3xa.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
http://img69.imageshack.us/img69/3122/roppongi23gj0ft.jpg (http://imageshack.us)
I spent all night exchanging stories and sharing experiences with a complete stranger all night in a still-technically foreign country. And you know what, I had the time of my LIFE. We watched the sun rise on my comedown, and it was absolutely breathtaking. It was a truly unforgettable experience.
We exchanged phone numbers, in preparations of making business plans upon my return from Kyoto, and parted at the subway. Feeling new, refreshed, and most of all, ALIVE, I disappeared in my train headed towards Daimaru, listening to the same U2 cover song on repeat, anxious for what the future would bring.
I ended my trip in the subway, from when it all initially began. I can¡¯t wait to discover what¡¯s waiting for me in Kyoto.