DOSE:

25 mg

oral

4-HO-MiPT

(powder / crystals)

BODY WEIGHT:

185 lb

Who: J, male, aged 42, 73 inches (185 cm), 185 pounds (84 kg)

What: 25 mg 4-HO-MIPT (Miprocin) as fumerate salt, a white crystalline powder

When: 3:18 p.m. EDT 5 August 2012 (after a small, late lunch)

Where: A hotel room somewhere near Cherry Hills, NJ

How: (Route of administration) Fumerate powder wrapped in 1 ea 2-ply sheet of toilet tissue, folded into small pouch and swallowed with 2 oz spring water.

No supplements or other substances in system other than residual caffeine from morning tea.

T+00:07
While waiting for the come-up I went into hotel room's bathroom to shave, shower, brush teeth and so on.

T+00:38-00:53
Initial effects noticed (during/after) shower:
1. Increased temperature sensitivity (e.g. shower water seemed subjectively hotter at objectively lower temperature, based on position of faucet C->H and comparison with same during prior shower at baseline). Also seemed more sweaty and flushed after shower and took longer to cool down than after prior shower, particularly when one considers the low water temperature. For example, the mirror was hardly steamed after this shower but during prior one it was almost completely occluded by condensation. Sweaty/flushed sensations were not unpleasant but quite noticeable.

2. There was a spreading sensation of warmth in stomach/abdomen, perceived as somehow related to the Miprocin digestion.

3. Mild changes in color perception. Colors seem richer, warmer, deeper. This is particularly obvious on textured surfaces, such as the spackled walls and ceiling, but also the carpeted floors. However it is also detectable on lighter colored smooth areas, such as the side of the white refrigerator, the smooth metal bathroom door, the high-gloss sheen of computer and peripherals (especially the keyboard). 'Shiny seems shinier, rich seems richer, deep seems deeper.'

4. Cognition and memory: Both short term memory and persistent recall seem mildly impaired ... it requires more concentration to retrieve an appropriate word, recall a person's name, that sort of thing. Also it's easy to lose one's train of thought when not explicitly concentrating on writing -- for example when I looked away during the previous numbered entry to examine more surfaces, I forgot *why* I was trying to notice them upon returning my attention to the computer screen. It took me a moment to recall that I had just been writing about that subject. At least at < 1 hour in, this can be overcome with some effort but may be growing more pronounced. If so I will likely abandon ongoing writing in favor of direct experience with later recollection. Also typing seems as effortless as it ever does as a function of dexterity and speed, but I keep doing things like forgetting trailing letters and falling prey to other letter-sized typos. It almost seems that the fingers want to type something quite of their own volition, which is not always quite connected to what the stream of consciousness is spewing.

Next steps ... okay I feel like that's enough linear analysis for the moment, particularly since it seems to be slowly becoming more difficult. I am coming up on 1 hour (it's now 4:13 p.m.) I just finished downloading a (supposedly) high quality copy of the Avengers from a certain website and am copying it to a thumb drive. When it's done I'm going to put the desktop to sleep and hookup the laptop to the room's 42' HD set (as I only have the one HDMI cable here), and then watch the movie.

I am also planning to do a sit (Vipassanna meditation, focus on sensory flow), at least if the Miprocin cooperates. Either before or after that, I will try to remember to write down some more observations.

-----
Note: I took no further notes during the remainder of my experience. Indeed, at about T+3h it was quite obvious that it was a good call to turn off computers and TV, dowse the lights, and that sitting/lying in bed in near total darkness was far more productive or prudent. More on this and additional musings can be found below.
-----

Part 1: The Avengers. First let me say that this was the second time I had seen the film. The first time was also in a private setting with a dubious copy of murky origin. However, my sense was that this time the quality of the film was higher, the audio clearer, and the antics of our heroes and overall clarity of their story much better. On the other hand it's hard to say for sure because starting at about T+70m the visual content of the Miprocin ecstasy was becoming strong enough to cast such opinions into doubt.

At this stage the quality of these visuals were mainly noticed as the distortions of what 'should' be seen in a way reminiscent of some other psychedelic journeys. That is to say, I experienced the frequent and persistent sense of visual movement where it was not expected, and in ways only partially describable. So this was initially stuff like shifting patterns along surfaces, surfaces appearing to 'breathe', and smears and trails of light streaming outward from the edges of the TV while I was trying to watch the movie.

There was also a deep emotional connection to some of the characters in the film -- I even recall openly weeping at several points during the latter half of the movie, and feeling a strong affinity for Natasha and Clint's subplot in particular. I also laughed raucously during the many subtle and not-so-subtle humorous moments, mostly interjected into the narrative when Stark was in a scene. This emotional thing is interesting to me not only for its own sake, but also because it made me realize how normally 'buttoned up' I am during the viewing of a film (whether with others or alone).

Having said all of that, there was some significant anxiety building in me as the film proceeded to its denouement. It seemed like total stimuli overkill to be gawking at this machine of dancing lights when *everything* was starting to look rather like an intense play of dancing lights. As such, I was quite relieved when the credits rolled and turned off all the gadgets and sconces and crawled into bed.

My two cats were with me in the room and seemed very interested in me and my movements. I fed them dinner around this time and petted them when they approached, but initially I paid them little mind. However after a time in darkness and with one of the cats in particular, the focus of my stream of consciousness turned toward him in a major way. This wasn't because of something chosen but more because of something noticed. In a way that I cannot yet completely describe I somehow communicated with this cat in a kind of conversation. Yes, you read that right -- a conversation -- as in, I had a talk with first one and then the other cat as the Miprocin peaked.

Part 2: Cats. So I could probably sum up this cat-talk episode to you with a few English words, but doing so would grossly oversimplify the experience and crush subtlety. So I'm going to give it a more careful treatment and try to convey it to you in a narrative. However, in the interest of courtesy I will start off by sharing these few words, which were very important during this bizarre dialog. And these words/phrases are: 'Remember,' 'Don't worry,' and 'It's love.'

Now I suspect that these won't mean too much to you in isolation or at least not isolated within the weird context that I share them with you, but keep in mind that these are not *my* words but those of one of my two cats. 'Remember' was actually the first word that I heard from him, embedded within the normal mewling of this talkative animal and really both felt *and* heard. I think this is probably an important point ... the mechanics of this event were not what you might think. It wasn't a cat conversation like some you may have read about or seen in a drawing or film, such as that of Alice and the Cheshire Cat. I should also point out that this cat did not become like a human, nor did I become like a cat. We both kept our ontological boundaries but somehow disposed of the barrier that normally keeps us from speaking to one another or hearing that speech.

If you've never felt something like this it will no doubt sound completely absurd to you. Indeed sitting here now it sounds pretty crazy to me too. But let me assure you that in the midst of the experience it seemed natural, completely real, and indeed even familiar and almost obvious that such a thing is possible. Regardless of my prejudices about the paucity of miracles in my life, the astonishing thing to me is that this miracle did not seem miraculous at the time, at least after I got over my initial cognitive dissonance.

Anyway now let me take you through it chronologically, at least the parts that I can remember with any clarity.

So I was laying back on this hotel bed, propped up on a few pillows and under a few covers in almost total darkness. The drapes were pulled tight and night was starting to come on strong beyond them. The air conditioner was roaring but also occasionally clicking with ticks somehow in syncope with the rain hitting the window from the thunderstorm raging outside. And things were building up. Sensations were moving from a kind of low intensity baseline to a high intensity experience of dissolving. In a way that I hope you understand, the thing that I usually call 'me' was starting to lose it completely.

Into this storm and the steady breaking down of what I normally am or at least have the capacity to notice, I suddenly became aware of my cat's voice. At first it was nothing unusual -- he's a talkative little guy. He's also a 14-year-old Abyssinian/Somali mix who has shared almost his entire life with my wife and me. But suddenly, somehow embedded in his meow I heard him saying (or sending, or thinking?) a word. And the word was, 'Remember.' At first it was kind of indistinct -- like the echo of a word with a little distortion thrown into the mix -- but it quickly became clear and perfectly tangible as both a sound and as a feeling.

As soon as I realized *what* he was saying he stopped meowing and butted his head against my arm, as if to say (but without actually saying), 'Finally, the sleeper awakens!' He also sort of stood up and did a little figure-8 prance and then again lay down beside me. So, other than my hearing this word and kind of gaping at him while he got comfortable, it was all a rather typical example of my usual physical interactions with him. He and I were acting with each other exactly how we always act, only suddenly now I could hear what he was saying or thinking to me.

As you might expect, I was kind of struck dumb with all of this at first so he promptly head-butted my arm again, kindly reminding me that I was supposed to be petting him. So I got over my momentary wonder and did just that, and then he immediately began purring. In the same way that I had heard the word 'Remember' within his meow I now heard him speak again, except this time it was embedded within his purring. His voice seemed calmer now and completely in tune with the tone of the moment. The mood had down-shifted and now that he had my attention he seemed ready to get down to business.

From his position beside me he looked up directly at my eyes with his yellow/green almond-shaped orbs and I realized that I could see his eyes quite clearly. This was a little surprising because as I think I mentioned the room was quite dark. As he somehow heard this thought he said, 'Yes well, it's only as dark as you make it.' While I was kind of trying to grok this he stretched out and then purred up at me, 'Don't worry, you always worry ... just remember.' So I said aloud, 'Remember what?'

He kind of looked at me sideways and I had the sense that the timbre of his purr changed in a way not unlike the way an impatient adult will sigh toward an impetuous child. 'Don't do that, don't worry, all you have to do is remember.' So then I kind of laid back while continuing to pet him and thought about this. I won't bore you with the full content of my musings except to say that I think what he meant was something like the following...

This thing, this world, this reality or whatever you want to call it ... it is not so much something happening to us as much as something that we are doing. He wanted me to remember this, and in so doing remember what I am, which is also the same thing that he is, and the same thing that you are. With a kind of gentle dialog he was just telling me to stop forgetting these perfectly obvious facts of existence and remember why we're here, which brings me to the next exchange.

So a little choked-up I whispered to him, 'I'm sorry, I'll try to remember.'

He said, 'Don't get so serious. Just play it more like I do ... relax, be gentle, and remember.'

I took a deep breath and smiled down at him, thankful and relieved and somehow proud of him all at once. Then he yawned and said, 'Remember, it's love.'

Though this is only about half of what happened and seems a rather incomplete account, I think I shared the most important parts. I also listened to my other cat, though he had less to say and was mostly just irritated by my later tossing and turning and inability to fall asleep at what he felt was a more appropriate hour. Of course they both sleep like 20 hours a day, and it's pretty much always an appropriate hour for a cat nap.

So rather than me continuing to belabor the point, I'll just leave you with the rather awesome wisdom of cats. If I thought I was you and read this account myself, I probably wouldn't take it too literally -- and certainly not too seriously. Even so, this is actually exactly what happened as well as I can recall (or at least the first half of it).

By 2 a.m. or so, I drifted off to sleep with ear buds in my ears and cats sleeping beside me, listening to Nature Loves Courage by Catel Hayuk. I awoke a little late today with no effects other than a mild afterglow.

Exp Year: 2012	ExpID: 97230
Gender: Male
Age at time of experience: 42
Published: Nov 21, 2012	Views: 4,052
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