ToastedAlly
Neurotransmetteur
- Inscrit
- 14/9/10
- Messages
- 44
Hello all,
I'm male, 19 years of age, and weigh ~220 pounds.
LSD dose of 150-200 ?g (estimate)
I went to a place, we'll call it Arkadaho, to pick up some acid from a friend of mine and bring it back to my home state, which I will call home. I purchased 20 hits of liquid acid, which I had him soak into pieces of dried pineapple so that I could bring them on the plane.
I decided to test a dose (which was quoted as being in the range of 75-100 ?g) on the plane ride, so I went ahead and popped one pineapple slice into my mouth before clearing security. After getting to my gate, getting on the plane, and settling into my seat, I felt no effects. I was extremely tired (which is a big mistake for a trip, always trip on a good night's sleep) so I fell asleep in my plane seat as we took off. When I woke up, I still didn't feel any different and I reasoned that, because I was sleeping, the dose was weak if legit at all, and so I decided to shrug it off and go back to sleep.
Except I couldn't. Sitting in my window seat, staring at the Earth below, I was bored. And desperately craving a trip.
So I decided to try taking another dose. Almost the instant I started sucking on this pineapple slice, I noticed that light that shines in the back of my skull when I'm tripping begin to warm up. At this point it had been approximately 90 minutes since I'd taken the first dose.
I decided to enjoy my come up by staring at the Earth's surface while the sun was rising over the horizon. I plugged in my iPod and admired the beauty of this truly miraculous planet from afar.
And then, about fifteen minutes later, my iPod made a loud CRACK noise (through my headphones) and the battery was 100% drained instantaneously.
Crap, I thought to myself, must've been an energetic particle from outer space. (in the upper atmosphere, particles moving at relativistic speeds through space can penetrate airplanes, iPods, etc. as if they were simply air. I figured this was a charged particle that anomalously caused my iPod to short out.)
So, I decided not to let my lack of music become a downer for my trip. At this point I had a pleasant feeling of tripping, which was accompanied by that giddiness that I get during every LSD come up. I couldn't help but begin to chuckle, which must have been interesting to the man sitting next to me.
The stewardess was serving drinks (I was in first class, booya), but her back gave out and so she couldn't bend over to set the drinks down next to the passengers. I felt a deep sadness for her condition, because she looked so pathetic being unable to move her back in any way. She offered me breakfast, and I gladly accepted as I hadn't yet eaten that day. (first class is the shit)
By the time my food came, I was solidly tripping balls. The doses WERE legit, I realized as I stared down at a pathetic looking omelet, a sagging "croissant," a small bowl of shiny fruit and a cookie. (I think that the delayed come up had to do with the fact that it was so early in the morning, and my brain wasn't fully awake to even BEGIN tripping.) As I stared at my tray with what had now evolved into a negative appetite (the opposite of an appetite), I wondered about whether it was a good idea to have taken that second dose, or to have ordered that breakfast, or to have worn shoes (my feet always get really stuffy-feeling on the plane, and this sensation was intensified by the trip.) I decided to take off my shoes, and with my socks on my feet I decided to do my best to get the food down. (I felt bad that I had made the temporarily handicapped stewardess carry the breakfast all the way to my seat, so I thought the least I could do was to eat my food.)
I started with the fruit, which was the only item that looked even remotely appealing to me. Slowly, but surely, I gulped down each grape, melon slice, and pineapple piece (which was trippy at the time because of the pineapple-nature of my trip). I noticed that, although it hadn't been pleasant to choke the fruit down, I was not any less hungry than I was before. I figured that this was an indication that my stomach was hungry, beneath the acid, so it was my duty as my stomach's keeper to feed it. So, I chewed through each strangely textured, sickeningly egg-tasting bite of my omelet, which felt good in my stomach despite the almost disturbing experience of getting it through my mouth. The cookie and croissant were a bit easier to deal with, the textures and taste much less interesting than that of the omelet. I was unable to deal with the yogurt, as the thought of it mixing with my saliva and the other food in my stomach was for some reason extremely off-putting.
After the nearly-heroic feat of getting all that food down, I looked around the cabin to notice that not a single person still had their breakfast tray. I realized that I had taken my precious time eating my breakfast, probably because each bite in and of itself was a challenge. The stewardess eventually appeared and I carefully handed her the tray, making sure the manner in which I did this would not cause her any more pain.
At this point the sun was well above the horizon and the ground basked in its glorious golden beams. I was in awe of how generous the sun was for literally giving up part of itself so that we can have warmth and energy. (As fusion occurs in the sun's core, it loses mass as it generates energy, in accordance with Einstein's E=mc^2, and so it must actually lose mass to provide us with the energy we all take for granted). I thought that I was beginning to peak, and the glorious scene in front of my eyes was an amazing aid to have with this.
Then I heard the man sitting next to me laugh. Hysterically. As if he's just witnessed the funniest thing in his entire life. I looked over and saw that he was enjoying the programming on the airplane's television screens. The show playing was "The Big Bang Theory," a show which I enjoy myself, so I (stupidly, in retrospect) decided to forget all about my beautiful solar/terrestrial trip and watch the TV. I plugged in my headphones and tuned in. Well, not really, I sort of just looked at things that people were doing in the show and thought about them. Nothing that was supposed to be funny was funny. Only the things that were supposed to be "normal" were funny, and Sheldon, who is normally one of my favorite characters in the show, was utterly disappointing because all I could see was an actor pretending to be Sheldon, and for a while I lamented at the fact that Sheldon, in fact, was not a real person. I felt as if I had lost a loved one. The episode ended, my trip continued, and I was not in any state to change my activity. So I continued to watch.
The next program was a show with a title that escapes me, but it was a bunch of somehow related adults (possibly siblings) who have kids. I don't remember much about the episode, but there was a part when one of the kids was taking 4-5 showers a day, and it soon became clear that he was masturbating. This, to me, was the funniest thing I'd ever seen and so I began to laugh hysterically. The guy sitting next to me was also laughing hysterically, which made me laugh even harder, and I'm not sure if he experienced the same thing, but his laughter also crescendoed and for what seemed like a very long time, I was having a blast.
The show continued, stuff happened, I didn't really know about it, blah blah. By the time the show was coming to an end, the pilot announced that we were arriving at the home airport. I realized that this would be my last chance to look at the Earth from the mid-atmosphere (during this trip), so I quickly took the headphones off and looked out the window. As we descended from the heavens, there were several clouds. Each was a beautiful complex dance of swirling wisps and bright colors. (the white light reflecting off the cloud created a sort of prism effect, so the edges were outlined in brilliant blues, greens, and reds. I'm fairly certain this was in my head, although it was the only visual effect I had during that trip, so I can't rule out the possibility that it was some phenomenon with the light and the moisture in the clouds.)
When we got closer to the ground, a slight panic came to me as I realized we were going waaaay too fast to be able to return to the non-moving planetary surface. I quickly soothed myself, reasoning if I'm really going to die, I might as well die during a good trip. So, I put the thought out of my mind and enjoyed watching the cars, houses, and trees zoom quickly by. I was now completely at peace with my imminent death.
The plane landed safely, and I quickly realized how silly I had been for thinking that I was going to die. We taxied towards the gate as I realized I was going to need to walk through an airport full of people and ride a public bus full of more people to get back to my apartment. I'm not unsociable while tripping, but I do need to sort of "settle in" to a social situation before I can successfully socialize, so the thought of passing people, etc. was very scary. I decided to wait in my seat until everybody else had left. When I got to the inside of the terminal, I decided to change my shoes to flip flops, because I'd be much more comfortable that way. After walking a few gates, my feet felt much too exposed and vulnerable, and I was CERTAIN somebody would step on my toes, so I decided to change back into my shoes. I also went to the bathroom and defecated, and I laughed loudly out loud when my butt made those awkward pooping noises, which must have been interesting for the others in the restroom. The walls within the stall were all at odd angles, something was just odd about the whole thing. No corner was perfectly square. Although there was nothing moving, and really no visuals for me to see, something about that stall and the way it...just...was... was so fucking weird.
I made my way out of the airport, and found out that my bus wouldn't come for another hour. Normally I travel with a ukulele for this type of situation, but on this trip I had brought my trumpet for a jam in Arkadaho, so I hadn't any room to carry-on my uke. Unable to pass the time (literally, time was not passing), I decided the trumpet would do, and so I pulled that out and started doodling. The thought that people might think it's strange that I was playing a trumpet at the airport bus stop hadn't really occurred to me, and so I started freaking out when I noticed that everybody was glancing at me. Paranoid, I thought to myself "everybody knows you have drugs, you must play as normally as possible so they think that you're not on drugs" (as if they knew what me playing normally was.)
Eventually, a black woman came up to me and requested a song. I was unable to understand what she said, and so after thinking for a while, I asked "who does that song?"
She replied, " I don't know who wrote it, but just about everybody does it."
And I explained to her that I was just picking the trumpet back up again, that I hadn't played since high school. She told me that I had a very musical ear and that each note "fit well."
I told her, "my band teacher in high school taught me that, while playing brass, each note must be tuned individually as you play them."
She told me this was very interesting, smiled, and then said "well, thank you for serenading us."
I said, "I'm just playing to pass time, but I'm glad you enjoy it."
I played for a bit longer, although suddenly now that I had an expectation of playing well (from what that lady had told me,) I started thinking that I sucked and so I put the trumpet down.
When my bus came, a man noticed the Hawaiian shirt I was wearing and asked, "Just get back from the islands?"
"No, [Arkadaho]," I responded, because the place I had been was not Hawaii.
He said, "Oh, you mean..." And then took his backpack off and started shuffling through it. After about a minute, he produced a T-shirt that said [Arkadaho] on it, and finished his sentence "...THIS [Arkadaho]?"
I said with a smile, "Yes, THAT [Arkadaho]." We got on the bus, and he was held up by the driver when he was unable to produce a bus pass. After rooting around in his backpack for another minute, he produced one. Then he came back and sat across the aisle from me and began explaining to me about how he knew about Arkadaho. (Arkadaho is a small town, which is why he took the time to prove that he knew of the place.) He explained that he'd met a girl (who he referred to as "lizzie the whore", saying that it worked like "vlad the impaler" or "Alexander the great") in Albuquerque who had a place in Arkadaho, and that he ended up living with her there for several years. He talked and talked, and I listened. Every time I tried to contribute, I produced some very strange words and ideas, which worked, but were never exactly what I'd meant to say. This frustrated me, but I had reached a new peak in my trip and I was borderline insane.
When the bus got back to home, my new friend noticed a huge column of smoke rising over the mountains. He said somewhat casually that "there must be a fire."
I'm not sure why, but the sight of that smoke freaked me out. I got off the bus after an awkward parting with that dude, and the town was eerily quiet and empty. That aura combined with the column of smoke SERIOUSLY freaked me out. It was the eeriest experience of my life. I decided that I couldn't be alone anymore so I called my friend, who had just woken up. I realized that, although I'd already had an epicly long day, it was only noon. I stopped by my apartment to change my clothes and pick up my weed, and rode my bike over to his place.
We sat there, smoked some weed, and then he started talking. (he's quite the chatterbox). The weed was really, really good, and the high kicked in hard and fast. Suddenly I felt my whole body awash in sensations, and my arms felt as if they were simultaneously occupying an infinite number of states (a feeling which I now call "quantum tripping," because of it's quantum-mechanical type of feeling). For the layman, I felt as if my arms were completely above my head, down at my sides, and in every possible position in between, all at the same time. This sensation slowly began to spread through my body, and suddenly I realized that there would be an impossible-to-comprehend limit to how many infinite sets of states I could imagine myself occupying simultaneously, and so this sensation eventually gave way to the feeling of being classically stoned.
I sat with my friend for several hours tripping in various ways, until I began coming down. It was here that being tired while tripping became EXTREMELY taxing. Although I knew I wouldn't sleep, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed and cower from the exhaustion that was dominating over my being. I parted, and rode my bike back to my apartment, stopping by MacDonald's on the way back. I was barely able to eat any of it, although I think the pot helped bring some hunger back to me, because I ate a decent amount of food.
Back in my apartment, I decided to get in bed and read. I got into bed and...
BOOM
it was the next morning. Trip was 100% over. I had slept for an approximate 16 hours, and I felt awesome. I realized I was late for class, and so I jumped out of bed and got dressed... (insert generic life here)
This trip was epic. I traveled hundreds of miles and saw a whole lot of things. It was full of bizarre encounters and wild sights. It was one of the greatest adventures of my life. If I were to do it again, I would definitely do so on a full night's rest, and I would refrain from smoking pot. Although the pot is fun, it clouds my mind and usually makes my trip turn grumpy and needy.
I would recommend tripping on an airplane to anybody who is unafraid of tripping around lots of other people, and is comfortable on an airplane. It is truly amazing to witness the Earth's majesty from far above while under the influence of this truly profound substance.
Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this.
I'm male, 19 years of age, and weigh ~220 pounds.
LSD dose of 150-200 ?g (estimate)
I went to a place, we'll call it Arkadaho, to pick up some acid from a friend of mine and bring it back to my home state, which I will call home. I purchased 20 hits of liquid acid, which I had him soak into pieces of dried pineapple so that I could bring them on the plane.
I decided to test a dose (which was quoted as being in the range of 75-100 ?g) on the plane ride, so I went ahead and popped one pineapple slice into my mouth before clearing security. After getting to my gate, getting on the plane, and settling into my seat, I felt no effects. I was extremely tired (which is a big mistake for a trip, always trip on a good night's sleep) so I fell asleep in my plane seat as we took off. When I woke up, I still didn't feel any different and I reasoned that, because I was sleeping, the dose was weak if legit at all, and so I decided to shrug it off and go back to sleep.
Except I couldn't. Sitting in my window seat, staring at the Earth below, I was bored. And desperately craving a trip.
So I decided to try taking another dose. Almost the instant I started sucking on this pineapple slice, I noticed that light that shines in the back of my skull when I'm tripping begin to warm up. At this point it had been approximately 90 minutes since I'd taken the first dose.
I decided to enjoy my come up by staring at the Earth's surface while the sun was rising over the horizon. I plugged in my iPod and admired the beauty of this truly miraculous planet from afar.
And then, about fifteen minutes later, my iPod made a loud CRACK noise (through my headphones) and the battery was 100% drained instantaneously.
Crap, I thought to myself, must've been an energetic particle from outer space. (in the upper atmosphere, particles moving at relativistic speeds through space can penetrate airplanes, iPods, etc. as if they were simply air. I figured this was a charged particle that anomalously caused my iPod to short out.)
So, I decided not to let my lack of music become a downer for my trip. At this point I had a pleasant feeling of tripping, which was accompanied by that giddiness that I get during every LSD come up. I couldn't help but begin to chuckle, which must have been interesting to the man sitting next to me.
The stewardess was serving drinks (I was in first class, booya), but her back gave out and so she couldn't bend over to set the drinks down next to the passengers. I felt a deep sadness for her condition, because she looked so pathetic being unable to move her back in any way. She offered me breakfast, and I gladly accepted as I hadn't yet eaten that day. (first class is the shit)
By the time my food came, I was solidly tripping balls. The doses WERE legit, I realized as I stared down at a pathetic looking omelet, a sagging "croissant," a small bowl of shiny fruit and a cookie. (I think that the delayed come up had to do with the fact that it was so early in the morning, and my brain wasn't fully awake to even BEGIN tripping.) As I stared at my tray with what had now evolved into a negative appetite (the opposite of an appetite), I wondered about whether it was a good idea to have taken that second dose, or to have ordered that breakfast, or to have worn shoes (my feet always get really stuffy-feeling on the plane, and this sensation was intensified by the trip.) I decided to take off my shoes, and with my socks on my feet I decided to do my best to get the food down. (I felt bad that I had made the temporarily handicapped stewardess carry the breakfast all the way to my seat, so I thought the least I could do was to eat my food.)
I started with the fruit, which was the only item that looked even remotely appealing to me. Slowly, but surely, I gulped down each grape, melon slice, and pineapple piece (which was trippy at the time because of the pineapple-nature of my trip). I noticed that, although it hadn't been pleasant to choke the fruit down, I was not any less hungry than I was before. I figured that this was an indication that my stomach was hungry, beneath the acid, so it was my duty as my stomach's keeper to feed it. So, I chewed through each strangely textured, sickeningly egg-tasting bite of my omelet, which felt good in my stomach despite the almost disturbing experience of getting it through my mouth. The cookie and croissant were a bit easier to deal with, the textures and taste much less interesting than that of the omelet. I was unable to deal with the yogurt, as the thought of it mixing with my saliva and the other food in my stomach was for some reason extremely off-putting.
After the nearly-heroic feat of getting all that food down, I looked around the cabin to notice that not a single person still had their breakfast tray. I realized that I had taken my precious time eating my breakfast, probably because each bite in and of itself was a challenge. The stewardess eventually appeared and I carefully handed her the tray, making sure the manner in which I did this would not cause her any more pain.
At this point the sun was well above the horizon and the ground basked in its glorious golden beams. I was in awe of how generous the sun was for literally giving up part of itself so that we can have warmth and energy. (As fusion occurs in the sun's core, it loses mass as it generates energy, in accordance with Einstein's E=mc^2, and so it must actually lose mass to provide us with the energy we all take for granted). I thought that I was beginning to peak, and the glorious scene in front of my eyes was an amazing aid to have with this.
Then I heard the man sitting next to me laugh. Hysterically. As if he's just witnessed the funniest thing in his entire life. I looked over and saw that he was enjoying the programming on the airplane's television screens. The show playing was "The Big Bang Theory," a show which I enjoy myself, so I (stupidly, in retrospect) decided to forget all about my beautiful solar/terrestrial trip and watch the TV. I plugged in my headphones and tuned in. Well, not really, I sort of just looked at things that people were doing in the show and thought about them. Nothing that was supposed to be funny was funny. Only the things that were supposed to be "normal" were funny, and Sheldon, who is normally one of my favorite characters in the show, was utterly disappointing because all I could see was an actor pretending to be Sheldon, and for a while I lamented at the fact that Sheldon, in fact, was not a real person. I felt as if I had lost a loved one. The episode ended, my trip continued, and I was not in any state to change my activity. So I continued to watch.
The next program was a show with a title that escapes me, but it was a bunch of somehow related adults (possibly siblings) who have kids. I don't remember much about the episode, but there was a part when one of the kids was taking 4-5 showers a day, and it soon became clear that he was masturbating. This, to me, was the funniest thing I'd ever seen and so I began to laugh hysterically. The guy sitting next to me was also laughing hysterically, which made me laugh even harder, and I'm not sure if he experienced the same thing, but his laughter also crescendoed and for what seemed like a very long time, I was having a blast.
The show continued, stuff happened, I didn't really know about it, blah blah. By the time the show was coming to an end, the pilot announced that we were arriving at the home airport. I realized that this would be my last chance to look at the Earth from the mid-atmosphere (during this trip), so I quickly took the headphones off and looked out the window. As we descended from the heavens, there were several clouds. Each was a beautiful complex dance of swirling wisps and bright colors. (the white light reflecting off the cloud created a sort of prism effect, so the edges were outlined in brilliant blues, greens, and reds. I'm fairly certain this was in my head, although it was the only visual effect I had during that trip, so I can't rule out the possibility that it was some phenomenon with the light and the moisture in the clouds.)
When we got closer to the ground, a slight panic came to me as I realized we were going waaaay too fast to be able to return to the non-moving planetary surface. I quickly soothed myself, reasoning if I'm really going to die, I might as well die during a good trip. So, I put the thought out of my mind and enjoyed watching the cars, houses, and trees zoom quickly by. I was now completely at peace with my imminent death.
The plane landed safely, and I quickly realized how silly I had been for thinking that I was going to die. We taxied towards the gate as I realized I was going to need to walk through an airport full of people and ride a public bus full of more people to get back to my apartment. I'm not unsociable while tripping, but I do need to sort of "settle in" to a social situation before I can successfully socialize, so the thought of passing people, etc. was very scary. I decided to wait in my seat until everybody else had left. When I got to the inside of the terminal, I decided to change my shoes to flip flops, because I'd be much more comfortable that way. After walking a few gates, my feet felt much too exposed and vulnerable, and I was CERTAIN somebody would step on my toes, so I decided to change back into my shoes. I also went to the bathroom and defecated, and I laughed loudly out loud when my butt made those awkward pooping noises, which must have been interesting for the others in the restroom. The walls within the stall were all at odd angles, something was just odd about the whole thing. No corner was perfectly square. Although there was nothing moving, and really no visuals for me to see, something about that stall and the way it...just...was... was so fucking weird.
I made my way out of the airport, and found out that my bus wouldn't come for another hour. Normally I travel with a ukulele for this type of situation, but on this trip I had brought my trumpet for a jam in Arkadaho, so I hadn't any room to carry-on my uke. Unable to pass the time (literally, time was not passing), I decided the trumpet would do, and so I pulled that out and started doodling. The thought that people might think it's strange that I was playing a trumpet at the airport bus stop hadn't really occurred to me, and so I started freaking out when I noticed that everybody was glancing at me. Paranoid, I thought to myself "everybody knows you have drugs, you must play as normally as possible so they think that you're not on drugs" (as if they knew what me playing normally was.)
Eventually, a black woman came up to me and requested a song. I was unable to understand what she said, and so after thinking for a while, I asked "who does that song?"
She replied, " I don't know who wrote it, but just about everybody does it."
And I explained to her that I was just picking the trumpet back up again, that I hadn't played since high school. She told me that I had a very musical ear and that each note "fit well."
I told her, "my band teacher in high school taught me that, while playing brass, each note must be tuned individually as you play them."
She told me this was very interesting, smiled, and then said "well, thank you for serenading us."
I said, "I'm just playing to pass time, but I'm glad you enjoy it."
I played for a bit longer, although suddenly now that I had an expectation of playing well (from what that lady had told me,) I started thinking that I sucked and so I put the trumpet down.
When my bus came, a man noticed the Hawaiian shirt I was wearing and asked, "Just get back from the islands?"
"No, [Arkadaho]," I responded, because the place I had been was not Hawaii.
He said, "Oh, you mean..." And then took his backpack off and started shuffling through it. After about a minute, he produced a T-shirt that said [Arkadaho] on it, and finished his sentence "...THIS [Arkadaho]?"
I said with a smile, "Yes, THAT [Arkadaho]." We got on the bus, and he was held up by the driver when he was unable to produce a bus pass. After rooting around in his backpack for another minute, he produced one. Then he came back and sat across the aisle from me and began explaining to me about how he knew about Arkadaho. (Arkadaho is a small town, which is why he took the time to prove that he knew of the place.) He explained that he'd met a girl (who he referred to as "lizzie the whore", saying that it worked like "vlad the impaler" or "Alexander the great") in Albuquerque who had a place in Arkadaho, and that he ended up living with her there for several years. He talked and talked, and I listened. Every time I tried to contribute, I produced some very strange words and ideas, which worked, but were never exactly what I'd meant to say. This frustrated me, but I had reached a new peak in my trip and I was borderline insane.
When the bus got back to home, my new friend noticed a huge column of smoke rising over the mountains. He said somewhat casually that "there must be a fire."
I'm not sure why, but the sight of that smoke freaked me out. I got off the bus after an awkward parting with that dude, and the town was eerily quiet and empty. That aura combined with the column of smoke SERIOUSLY freaked me out. It was the eeriest experience of my life. I decided that I couldn't be alone anymore so I called my friend, who had just woken up. I realized that, although I'd already had an epicly long day, it was only noon. I stopped by my apartment to change my clothes and pick up my weed, and rode my bike over to his place.
We sat there, smoked some weed, and then he started talking. (he's quite the chatterbox). The weed was really, really good, and the high kicked in hard and fast. Suddenly I felt my whole body awash in sensations, and my arms felt as if they were simultaneously occupying an infinite number of states (a feeling which I now call "quantum tripping," because of it's quantum-mechanical type of feeling). For the layman, I felt as if my arms were completely above my head, down at my sides, and in every possible position in between, all at the same time. This sensation slowly began to spread through my body, and suddenly I realized that there would be an impossible-to-comprehend limit to how many infinite sets of states I could imagine myself occupying simultaneously, and so this sensation eventually gave way to the feeling of being classically stoned.
I sat with my friend for several hours tripping in various ways, until I began coming down. It was here that being tired while tripping became EXTREMELY taxing. Although I knew I wouldn't sleep, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed and cower from the exhaustion that was dominating over my being. I parted, and rode my bike back to my apartment, stopping by MacDonald's on the way back. I was barely able to eat any of it, although I think the pot helped bring some hunger back to me, because I ate a decent amount of food.
Back in my apartment, I decided to get in bed and read. I got into bed and...
BOOM
it was the next morning. Trip was 100% over. I had slept for an approximate 16 hours, and I felt awesome. I realized I was late for class, and so I jumped out of bed and got dressed... (insert generic life here)
This trip was epic. I traveled hundreds of miles and saw a whole lot of things. It was full of bizarre encounters and wild sights. It was one of the greatest adventures of my life. If I were to do it again, I would definitely do so on a full night's rest, and I would refrain from smoking pot. Although the pot is fun, it clouds my mind and usually makes my trip turn grumpy and needy.
I would recommend tripping on an airplane to anybody who is unafraid of tripping around lots of other people, and is comfortable on an airplane. It is truly amazing to witness the Earth's majesty from far above while under the influence of this truly profound substance.
Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this.
