Briareos' thumbprinting the acid story:
The “final trip” story
This story requires I tell a side story in order for
it to truly sink in, and make sense.
Part 1: The story of David.
David was my first friend in New Mexico, and probably
my best friend ever. He was also the guy to give me my
first acid. David started acid at the tender age of
10, due to the fact that his father was one of the
biggest acid middle men in the state. He was
experienced in acid, and knew every trick in the book…
he taught me everything I know about acid to date. He
was also VERY smart. He thought of acid as a gateway
into his mind, and would often take insane doses (40+
hits) in order to explore his consciousness. He was
the one who got me to start taking large doses. Since
1994, David had spoken of the “ultimate trip”, the one
that would end his search for himself. In case you
couldn’t tell, David was a very deep person, and was
under the impression that this massive dose would
ultimately unlock the potential of his mind… that dose
is often known as “thumb printing a crystal”. Acid in
its purest form is a solid crystal, and if you were to
touch it with slightly damp thumb, you would instantly
absorb the equivalent of well over 100 hits of acid.
David had prepared his whole teenage years, as did we
all, for the ultimate trip. He studied its effects,
upped his dose often to test his limits, and spent a
year or two learning how to properly meditate to keep
him calm during the trip. On November 2nd 2001, David
thumb printed a black amber crystal known as Timothy
Leary II... he committed suicide by stabbing himself
in the throat with a broken mirror piece just hours
later.
The “final trip” story
Part 2: My story
I attended David’s funeral on November 8th, and it was
the only time I had ever been to a social function
sober. The news of David had devastated me beyond. I
didn’t have the will to dose for that whole week. As I
sat there sobbing to myself and cursing David for ever
leaving me like that, then I realized that he hadn’t
killed himself because of the acid… he did it because
he HAD found himself, and he didn’t like what he had
seen. David was insecure and often berated himself for
his shortcomings. He always swore that once he had
tapped his mind, if he didn’t like what he saw then
there was no reason to go on. He once told me that he
had “sadistic thoughts”… thoughts that kept him up at
night shivering in his bed. He had unlocked his mind,
and what he found frightened him bad enough, that he
took his life.
I followed in the steps of David like a loyal puppy.
What he did, I did. David was my teacher in what he
called the spiritual realm. We would take huge doses
of acid and put ourselves into a trance like state in
order to explore our minds deepest chasms… he taught
me meditation, and the principles of OBE. I loved
David like a brother, and his passing made me
seriously step back and take a look at my life. At
this point I had been taking acid for over 10 years,
and I hadn’t learned anything truly about myself or my
thoughts. I wanted to go further… as far as David had.
That night, I went over to David’s house to speak with
his father. We talked about the good ol’ days when the
3 of us would eat a 10 strip and look at the stars.
Then I dropped the bomb on his dad, “Larry, I want to
see the amber crystal.” “NO”, he said. “I won’t let
you go too.” I begged him for the next three months,
but got turned down every time. Larry had thumb
printed a crystal when he was in his 20’s, and ended
up scaring himself so bad that he developed a slight
case of schizophrenia, and he didn’t want to see
another mind taken by it. I relented. I had to see
what David saw… I had to know why such a bright mind
with an obvious bright future would end his life the
way he did. I was prepared to do the same if it came
down to it.
March 2nd 2002
It was about 9:00am when I got the call from Larry.
“Don, I’m coming over at 10:00pm”, he said, “I want
everything sharp placed in a box along with the
mirrors on your wall stacked by your door when I get
there.” He had submitted… he was bringing the black
amber crystal to my house that night, and I was going
to touch the beast.
I did as he had requested… I took all the mirrors off
my wall and stacked them near my door along with a box
full of forks, knives, and a letter opener. When he
arrived, he started placing all of this in the back of
his truck, and told me he would return it the moment,
“I could form sentences”. He explained the dangers of
this kind of trip, and tried to prepare me for what
would become at least one full month of the hardest
trip I had ever encountered.
“before we start”, he said,” I need to show you this.”
It was David’s suicide note… the note they found
clenched in a death grip in his left hand. It wasn’t
really a note, as much as it was 3 words on a yellow
sheet of paper… “let me out”. “You still wanna do
this?” I nodded and he began to explain the rules of
thumb printing.
Rule 1: no mirrors… not just because they were
breakable and sharp, but because of the effect of
seeing yourself on a trip this hard may cause you to
freak out.
Rule 2: no leaving the house for at least 1 week. I
was told to deadbolt my door the second he left, and
then get back to my seat as quickly as possible.
Rule 3: whatever happens, remember to look at your
arms… “If you can see”. (Referencing the black marker
on the arm trick)
Rule 4: “keep a phone with 911 on speed dial near. If
shit goes bad, they can administer thorizine to bring
you down… Kinda.
He placed the crystal on my table using a thick pair
of rubber gloves, and brought out a sponge that had
been soaked in everclear. The alcohol was to put on my
thumb, to help speed the melting / absorption process.
You only have a second to touch the crystal… any more
and you could be putting yourself in a world of
misery. I took a deep breath, thanked Larry and hugged
him, then put my everclear soaked thumb on the
crystal.
The second I touched the crystal my thumb burned like
I had just touched a hot range top, and upon taking it
off, I noticed I already had a large darkened blister
forming there. Then my hand went numb. I quickly
locked my door and put the deadbolt & chain on. By the
time I had sat down my entire body had went numb. I
felt like I couldn’t breathe. All of the times before
when I had dropped 40+ hits could have never prepared
me for this trip. My walls heaved back and forth, the
floor felt like it had liquefied, and my heart felt as
though it was about to beat out of my chest. Then it
happened….
Almost as soon as the peak had hit, it was over. I sat
on my couch just staring ahead, wondering what went
wrong. Had Larry tricked me, and let me touch a fake
crystal with a drop of acid on it? How could he do
this to me! I got up and stormed around my apartment
cursing Larry for fucking with my head… he had
prepared me for a trip he knew would never happen. I
called his house; only to receive an out of order
recording… it was working earlier. He had turned off
his phone! By this time, I was fuming pissed, and
screaming at the top of my lungs. I ran out the door
and drove to his house. Upon arrival, I noticed his
truck wasn’t there, and the house was dark. I tried
for the next 24 hours to get ahold of him… nothing.
The next day I went to work and came home just like
any other day, except I could feel that something was
wrong. All day I kept having funny occurrences that
just seemed out of place. Perhaps the acid did work,
but on a deeper more subtle level. At work a lady had
asked me if I “knew my father”. I replied “yes”… my
mother divorced my dad when I was only 2, but I still
saw him occasionally and received his money every
month… but the more I thought about it, I DIDN’T
really know my father. I knew nothing about him. I
finished ringing her up for her new E-machine and bid
her a good day, when she turned and added, “ Don’t let
an opportunity pass you by”. I nodded and forgot the
whole conversation. The rest of the day was
interesting to say the least. For a Sunday, the roads
were very empty, and there didn’t seem to be many
people out. Circuit city was dead that day, and I had
only made about $75, so I was ready to go home and let
this weekend from hell end in alcohol soaked bliss.
I sat there on my couch, in the same place I had sat
the night before, thinking that I was going to start
tripping any second…. Nothing. I kept taking small
swigs off of a plastic bottle of vodka that I had put
away in my bong cabinet. I wanted to trip that night,
but couldn’t bring myself to call and find any. Larry
was the go to man, and he had skipped town… with all
my shit. A knock at my door made me jump right out of
my skin. I answered the door to what would ultimately
be the crowning moment of the weekend. There before me
stood my best friend in the whole world… David.
Part: 3 – The end of an 11 year binge.
I shivered uncontrollably at his sight. I was scared,
but at the same time calm like no other swept over me.
I felt… warm, like I was being hugged by invisible
arms. I stared at David for what seemed like an hour
without a word spoken. “Can I come in?”… He spoke. He
was really here… alive! David! We sat down on my
couch, and starred at each other… I couldn’t believe
he was here. Maybe the acid had worked, and this was a
solid hallucination. A quick poke confirmed that he
was a solid as you and I. “I was at your funeral”… “I
know” he said. “I called you an asshole”… “I know” he
said again. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t understand
why.”… “I know”. He held out a sheet of white paper
for me to take…. On it was written, “let me out”… this
time in my own hand writing. Then he was gone. I sat
there and cried because he had left me again. I didn’t
understand what just happened, all I knew was that the
acid had worked… perhaps too well.
I opened my eyes to wipe the tears only to find that
it was actually 4 hours later, and I was wearing the
same clothes I had worn the night before…. In my left
hand was a white sheet of paper that I had written,
“let me out”.
It was all a mass hallucination. The entire weekend
never happened; I had never even left my couch for
those 2 days. The whole time I was a prisoner in my
own mind, unable to move or respond… only carry out a
second by second waking dream in my head. I had lived
the past day as if I had been there. I had to piss
like a race horse, and my mouth was so dry it hurt. I
was tripping harder than I had ever tripped before. I
found myself to be completely emotionless. I couldn’t
even muster a tear for the thought of David. I had
beaten the peak, the hardest part of the trip… I was
alive, but I felt no joy nor sorrow.
April 13th 2002. I woke up to the most pleasant thing
I had felt in months… sobriety! It was over, and I had
won. I laid there on my bed, in the fetal position,
crying like a little bitch for the next 2 days. It
took almos t3 weeks to regain my equilibrium and begin
to feel normal again. It took almost a month before I
realized what it was that the trip had taught me. I
took for granted that my father had been sending me
acid money for the past 11 years, but I had never
stopped to thank him… much less call him. The lady in
circuit city was a creation of my mind that allowed me
to see this. I called my father that night, and we
talked for 5 hours… I learned more about him that
night, than I had in the past 23 years.
I don’t do acid anymore, maybe because the acid does
me now. I am getting a return on my investment, as I
am now among those who call themselves perma-fried. I
had spent almost half of my life on the drug, but
until that experience, I had never truly grasped what
acid was capable of. I live in a constant trip now…
maybe psychological, maybe physical… like I said, I’m
no scientist, but I have never been the same since. I
no longer know sobriety. When I was kid, all I had to
do was stop dosing and the trip went away… now, I
don’t have that luxury. I have learned to live with
it, and truth be told… it’s not that bad. I am so used
to it now, I don’t even remember what true sobriety
felt like. Tripping is my new sobriety… it is who I am.
.
