Cool Trips in Suburbia


Wetted adventures Going berzerk on laced shrooms PCP trip 1: The Scizo trip
Complete detachment Cool trips in Suburbia Violent trip

Back to PCP

In this trip the user has some cool and meaningfull experiences and is mature enough to handle the dissociative state well.

I, for one, am very sick and tired of people who have never tried PCP before claiming to know what they are talking about, demonizing this drug. Just because it happens to be the preferred psychedelic of the ghetto-risen black youth who need to escape from their every day reality, it has been selected as a demon drug that causes one to "flip out and go crazy, giving the user super- human strength and preventing police' bullets from stopping the raving lunatic." I know better than to believe all the media propaganda spreading lies about drugs.

Once upon a time, back in a past life, there was a time when I would try almost any drug, at least once, just to experience it and satisfy my curiosity. This is a tale of the time when some PCP had entered town, supposedly from New York, where it is prevalent. Nothing like that had ever been around these parts before, at least not to my knowledge. I wanted to try the drug for myself, and find out what "dissociation" is all about. Having never tried Ketamine at that time yet, I figured PCP would be an interesting experience. A "hook-up" of mine acquired a bit of it, and I had a few chances to explore this drug. My experience consisted of getting high about two times (I think), and I really don't remember the first experience too well.

It came in little baggies of mint leaves that were supposedly dipped in PCP. It looked like little brown shavings of something that smelled very much like a potent chemical of some sort. There was no mistaking that this was really PCP simply by that awful, yet exciting smell. The first baggie I got was quickly rolled up into a skinny little joint and smoked entirely by myself (that was only because everyone else bought their own, so no one really needed to share!). As it burned the chemical smell increased greatly. Upon finishing the joint, there was no doubting that I was high. It was a very strange high, very distinct from the cannabis high, or even any psychedelics. In the very beginning, I was pleasantly awestruck by this newfound state of chemically- altered being. It had its own "flavor" to it. But then I realized that moving was quite a difficult task. I felt very anesthetized, and my legs felt like jello, so walking was very difficult. I realized that I was getting extremely high, and felt very "distant" from everyone and everything. I knew my friend and I had to get back to her place soon, so I could feel comfortable, since that was where I would sleep that night.

We quickly went down to my car and drove back to her place, which was really only right down the street. But it was scary anyway. Driving was so extremely difficult, and I could not wait to get home. When we finally got there, I was feeling so "heavy" that I just sank into the couch and stared blankly at a wall for a long time. I vaguely remember a few people coming and going through the apartment that night, but I don't remember much else. I eventually just fell asleep and woke up the next day feeling fine, no real sense of a hangover. But then again, I probably smoked pot as soon as I woke up, so that wouldn't have been an issue anyway.

So having realized that I simply had smoked a little too much, I decided the next night to buy another baggie, only this time share the joint with a couple of other people. There was a party over at a hotel in Clearwater Beach, so I rolled up the joint, this time with a little marijuana too, and drove on out there. When we got there, we didn't hesitate to light up. We sat there on the balcony smoking that joint, filling the air with that solvent-like smell, and getting really "dusted." There was even a friend of mine there who took a drag off of it, thinking it was only marijuana, and he ended up tripping too! We had a blast. This stuff makes you feel very care-free and goofy, and everything is pretty funny. Eventually though, I once again started getting that heavy feeling, and it became intolerable to the point that I could do nothing but just sink into the floor in the hotel room. I think I remember the guy who sold it to me coming over and saying, "I know exactly how you feel man!" I just laid there, sinking into the corner of the room. I felt that I was very small, and the rest of the room was huge! It was almost like being in Alice in Wonderland. I felt so distant from everything. Eventually, about maybe 3 hours after smoking, I passed out and woke the next day feeling quite alright, and having a newfound respect for PCP.

I don't feel that PCP makes a good recreational drug, but it can be interesting for the serious, experienced psychonaut. I had plenty of experience with altered states at this time. There may very well be some negative side effects produced in the brain by this drug, but I would hardly think that limited use of this drug is dangerous. I learned quickly how easy it is to smoke too much, but it eventually proved to be workable at smaller doses. I don't feel that PCP deserves all the negative press it has received, and I urge anyone who has self control, who won't get addicted to anything, to seek out the drug and try it. I will probably do it again if it ever comes around, but you don't see it too often in Suburbia. If I never see it again, then oh well. It was fun while I had a chance.