My package arrived in the mail, and I could barely contain myself as I walked back to my house from the mailbox. I'd been reading about 4-ho-met (or "color", which is what I call it in non-RC company) for weeks both before ordering, and while waiting for my package.
T-0:00 - I pulled out my trusty car key and scooped some of the tan, sand-like powder onto the tiny paper I had placed on the scale. 15mg. I gently poured the color into a half-packed bong piece, blew gently to even the layer, and gently covered with more weed. I chose smoking as my RoA for the shorter trip length. I cleared the bong in four solid rips and waited patiently. I tasted nothing, but smelled a faint bitterness.
T+0:05 - Five minutes pass of me intently staring at the wood panels. Nothing. Not even a wobble. Dejected, I measure out 35mg and dump it into a shot of vodka, stirring gently to dissolve the powder. The overpowering taste of bile, so shockingly bitter and acidic that I nearly vomited instantly, erupted into my mouth. I clawed desperately for the soda I had prepared.
T+0:10 - I was laying comfortably on my bed watching cooking videos on youtube when I became aware of a restlessness in my legs. The sensation became warm, and spread up my body. It was at this point that I became certain of one irrefutable fact: I had messed up. The warmth grew more and more, and I realized my vision wasn't focusing correctly. The initial 15mg must have just taken longer than expected, and was now layering into the additional 35mg. I had unwittingly taken a hero dose on my first trip.
T+0:15 - I was sitting in a plastic chair in a heavy jacket. My skin felt warm and tingly, my nose was beginning to run. I bounced my legs in front of me and stared at the floor, attempting to ground myself in reality. As I watched, the floor heaved slightly and began breathing. Small purple crystals formed every few inches on the surface of the carpet, glittering gently as I moved my head around the room.
T+0:20 - My nose was now violently running. Talking to my roommates was difficult, not just because the concept of words had become difficult, but because a river was flowing down the back of my throat. I lifted my head to look around. What were normally vertical wood planks had become deep, warmly glowing orange panels. The light from behind them flickered, as if lit by flame, and glyph-like images floated gently upwards from the floor to the ceiling. One of my roommates was wearing a fur hat, which upon observation swirled heavily, blurring into his face.
T+0:30 - I was now cuddling a roll of tissue paper. My eyes had begun watering. I had begun yawning constantly. At this point the headspace had become fairly intense. I still knew I was high, yet a switch flipped: my fear of time. I became overwhelmed by the idea that time had stopped. I couldn't comprehend space outside of the room I was in.
"Hey S, what time is it?" S: It's eleven. An incredible sense of deja vu washed over me. "Hey S, what's the date?" S: It's the eleventh. My mind raced. "Hey S, what time is it?" S: Eleven. "Hey S, what's the date?" S: The eleventh. You alright man?
"There's no way this is the first time we've done this. I swear that this has happened before. I'm stuck in time. S, what time is it?" S: It's 11:15 dawg.
BREAKTHROUGH. My brain cleared itself of the horrible loop. As I crawled out of the deep dark retches of my mind, I became aware of something: I could barely see. A sphere of letters had surrounded my head, appearing several inches away from my face. The letters were all blocky and capitalized, a translucent pink core bordered by thin white. Mostly consisting of AHMNT, the sphere moved with me.
T+1:00 - The letter sphere had subsided. Time to explore. The carpet had devolved into a field of purple crystals and gently flowing cream. The bowl of weed S was trimming swam like a bowl of emeralds. The wood paneling appeared to have a clear liquid flowing down wood-colored fur. I giggled quietly and left the room.
T+1:30 - The kitchen was my home now. The fluorescent lights shone down through neon bubbles. The textures on the refrigerator bubbled and swirled. I stumbled around, staring at various surfaces and ranking how much each pleased me. I mentally assured a cabinet that it was my favorite cabinet.
T+2:00 - I followed B outside onto the porch. A gentle rain swirled through the air, doing loop-de-loops before hitting the ground. B and I discussed how I was just an animal being poisoned. I was not distressed by this statement. B pointed out it was forty degrees and I had no jacket. I grunted acknowledgement and stopped to ponder the idea of cold. The warm embrace of the 4-ho-met shielded me from the temperatures of all things.
T+3:00 - Open eye visuals subsided to gentle breathing and melting. I put in headphones, an album (Chemical Brothers - Further), and laid on the floor. The songs took on new life, as if I could separate the individual tracks. I closed my eyes and was greeted by swirling clouds of colors and geometric pyramids inverting on themselves.
T+7:00 - I was tired. Visuals had subsided to gentle breathing. I noticed a distinct lack of noise, realizing suddenly that my tinnitus wasn't present for the first time in years. I smiled to myself, curled up in my blankets, and slowly drifted into sleep for 14 hours.
All in all, I rate 4-ho-met as my favorite substance. Even an accidentally large trip was fairly manageable, and even during the very intense parts I felt a general sense of warmth and calmness. I can't recommend this enough to people looking for a colorful, melty, wet trip.