I'm just throwing this out there.

2022.01.29 03:37 SimpForLoserfruit I'm just throwing this out there.

GREEN BAY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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2022.01.29 03:37 spooky-the-insomniac WFL | Me: NFR lion, FR flamingo / Them: R parrot

View Poll
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2022.01.29 03:37 remorser2ttv for

for submitted by remorser2ttv to forsen [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 enini83 Beetgold: Low Carb Wrpas

Bei uns im Edeka sind im Kühlregal Beetgold Tortilla wraps aufgetaucht aus "Gemüsetrester". Nicht ganz günstig, aber IMHO lecker, wenn man Appetit auf Wrap hat. Die Sorte Rote Beete hat etwas weniger Kohlenhydrate, pro Wrap 2,7g KH (5,9g/100g). Für mich geht das zum Mittag klar, wenn man nicht die ganze Packung auf einmal isst.
https://www.beetgold.com/produkte/tortilla-wraps/
Zutaten: Rote-Beete-Trester* (80%), Olivenöl, Flohsamenschalen, Haferfaser, Salz, Zitronensaftkonzentrat. (* = aus kontrolliert biologischem Anbau)
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2022.01.29 03:37 BiteMexD Are my SATA ports dying?

Help_post Hello,
I need some help/suggestions.
Am currently using a Gigabyte H81M-S2PV rev3.0 paired with a Core i5 4590.
I am facing a lot of Windows 10 crashing issues & No Bootable Drive issues.
Tried everything from fresh Windows 10 installation to adding a new SSD, but nothing worked so far! Same issues remain.
Even seen quite a few different Windows bluescreen error code.
I now suspect my Motherboard is the one causing all this issues, maybe it's Sata ports are dying.
I haven't tried external drive with USB 3.0 yet but am open to other ideas and solutions.
Any suggestion/solutions will be deeply appreciated.
I am not open to the idea of changing my motherboard in the near future as am looking to upgrade to a newer gen CPU maybe 10/11 in the coming months.
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2022.01.29 03:37 ManicPixieP1ssK1nk i imagine all of my haters as very unattractive people

actually nvm i don't have to imagine that
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2022.01.29 03:37 Ikalsaurus Fresh cuts

Fresh cuts submitted by Ikalsaurus to Hololive [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 ep931428 Did you mean: Mando S3 E1

Did you mean: Mando S3 E1 submitted by ep931428 to starwarsmemes [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 WannabeeCartographie The Russian Bear At War - May 1935

The Russian Bear At War - May 1935 submitted by WannabeeCartographie to RosesTulipsAndLiberty [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 citadel223 Premium pay for a shift removed?

My center said they were giving +5 an hour for Saturday shifts. I screenshotted it when I signed up for the shift as proof. Yet when I go to the app it's now gone. This is less than 24 hours over before the shift. What gives? Can they do this?
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2022.01.29 03:37 ddbogey SPOILER: On my fourth rewatch and I am completely astounded with Sam Esmail’s creative genius. The foreshadowing is ON POINT.

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2022.01.29 03:37 kellyannisxx Metaverse, NFTs and RPG Gaming on the Rise

🌟Metaverse, NFTs and RPG Gaming are on the Rise🌟 💰BLACK OWNED FINANCE the GAME CHANGER INVES,TMENT THAT SECURES YOUR FUTURE💰 🔥BE ONE OF US🔥 https://t.me/BlackOwnedFinance @BlackOwned_Fin #Metaverse #trending
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2022.01.29 03:37 TattoosandBackwoods 26 M Tattooed Alternative / Let’s Connect [Friendship] AZ

Just looking for some new friends .. let’s make Snapchat or something .. I’m super laid back and chilled no real intentions … Hopefully we can be friends 😯😯😯I’m into Fashion , Music , Tattoos , Sports , Betting , And other shit. Dm Me 🤷🏾‍♂️
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2022.01.29 03:37 Expert_gemhunter1006 For those who have knowledge in Marketing and technology this is your chance be a Ambassador of ParaState 🔥

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2022.01.29 03:37 LongjumpingBowler638 Are there any exercepts of a apothecary doing a geneseed extraction out of the dead marine

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2022.01.29 03:37 shadowmuppetry If my inverter started smoking (mosfet) is it ruined? Still works but should it be replaced?

Running a heavy load to test a new inverter
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2022.01.29 03:37 reallarrydavid Black character: *exists* TVD:

Black character: *exists* TVD: submitted by reallarrydavid to TheVampireDiaries [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 Fluc7u5 Okay, so based on the feedback I got I made a (hopefully) harder riddle.

Keep me in your helm And, chances are, you will die But once you enter my realm You feel that you are able to fly
Who am I?
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2022.01.29 03:37 custom_wp Telegram channel / group FULL ON COMEDY . 👥 202 | 🧩 #Memes | 🗣 #English . 🔗 https://bit.ly/3AJzWjv

Telegram channel / group FULL ON COMEDY . 👥 202 | 🧩 #Memes | 🗣 #English . 🔗 https://bit.ly/3AJzWjv submitted by custom_wp to Telegram_Directory [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 DimeTree My 3 year history of DXM habituation (very long)

I’ve always held this curious fascination with the altered state of mind DXM seems to invoke. I started after I’d just graduated high school, around mid-2019. I'd recently moved down to Texas, to live with my then-girlfriend whom I’d met over the internet (bad idea). While down there I smoked weed for the first time and had a harrowing experience (two lungfuls of bong smog + absolute newbie = hallucinatory panic attack), but even so, my interest in psychoactive substances was piqued. Never to be un-piqued I might add, I instantly found myself voraciously fascinated with the realm of drugs. I discovered Psychonaut Wiki and later Erowid, and made a daily habit of diving into the vaults and reading experience reports on substances I’d never and sometimes did never try. I had myself a new obsession. But merely reading about all these things was only the first step, how to obtain them?
It wasn’t for lack of connections or lack of money. The area of Lubbock I’d lived in was home to enough hippies, pushers, and trap houses to keep the entire neighborhood in constant supply. I just, you know, didn’t feel like it. Even getting my hands on an eighth of weed was an all-day ordeal, if I was picking some up later it was all I could think about, and more times than not I was skimped on, flaked out on, or just flat out ignored. One day I recalled that my girlfriend at the time had told me about how she had a short period a few years ago where she would habitually take excessive amounts of cough syrup and get high off of it. At the time I thought “bullshit” and figured she was mistaking drowsiness for an actual high, as legal highs generally have a reputation for being bunk. I thought if it was possible to actually get high off of, the government would’ve already scheduled it. (Later I would go on to experiment with a variety of legal highs, including but not limited to diphenhydramine, nutmeg, nitrous oxide, kratom, diethyl ether, morning glory/Hawaiian baby Woodrose, propylhexedrine, and a variety of smokable herbs.)
I asked my girlfriend about the cough syrup, and to my shock, she reacted with fond remembrance to my mentioning of it.
“Seriously?” I asked. “I thought you binged it for like a week, had a psychotic episode, and got sent to the hospital? Wasn’t that the time you saw gimps having sex on your bed, were convinced that you were a sorcerer, and tried to ritually sacrifice your parents in their sleep? Wasn’t that horrible for you?”
“What? No.” She said. I’d gotten my stories mixed up, her psychotic episode was actually triggered by diphenhydramine, which makes a lot more sense in hindsight. She did not attempt to explain the subjective experience, and I was not smart enough to ask. She did explain where to get it, though. I spent the whole day reading up on it, mainly pouring over the excellent DXM FAQ hosted on this very site. When I decided that I definitely wanted to try it, we left at sundown for the grocery store to buy two bottles of generic cherry-flavored syrup, one for each of us. I was promptly asked for my ID upon attempting to purchase two large-sized bottles of DXM-only cough syrup. Upon brandishing proof, I feigned ignorance and asked the cashier: “For cough medicine? Really?” She was a few years younger than me.
“Yeah, it’s kind of weird but I think sometimes people do bad things with it. I don’t know.”
“God. How horrible.” I paid and swiped my bag off the counter. “Stay safe. A lot of weirdos out there.”
Upon returning home we popped open the boxes. I’m not sure of the actual dosage but using dexcalc.com and a bit of intuition I’ve deduced that it was probably somewhere between 400mg and 450mg. When I saw the size of the bottle I was inconsolable. I grew even more upset when I took off the cap and took a whiff at the horror inside. I’m a huge pussy about this kind of stuff, even nowadays I can’t slam two shots in a row without seeing them again 10 seconds later. How was I going to get a teaspoon, let alone an entire bottle of this into my stomach? Injecting it directly into my heart seemed a more realistic option at that point. Postponing the issue, I suggested we put on some mood music. At the time, the rateyourmusic.com message board was raving about this new underground bubblegum bass/trap duo called 100 Gecs. I know, there really was a time when saying that name aloud in a room would draw looks of confusion instead of pained groans. We put on 1000 Gecs and got to chugging.
My better half finished hers in about under a minute. I sat sipping at it and gagging for the better part of an hour, being really lame about it but still determined to have a 3rd plat experience my first time, despite what the hallowed FAQ decrees. I could handle it, how bad can a drug be? If things get out of control, all I have to do is light some candles and do yoga stretches and breathing exercises. Big deal, fuck it, right? This stuff is legal anyways, probably won’t even work. I slowly and very consciously came to the end of the bottle, and still felt nothing. I was starting to get worried that I wasted my money. But how could the internet be wrong? Maybe I took the wrong brand?
Now I would’ve said “this is when it hit me”, but it didn’t ever really hit me. I actually don’t remember it coming on at all. It was like I was out for some indiscriminate amount of time, anywhere from 5 minutes to several hours, probably closer to the latter. Just like I’d passed out for a moment. I slipped, that time was lost to me. Not an unfamiliar feeling, the same had happened during my first dance with Mary Jane, but even then I was lapsing in and out with relative frequency and in shorter bursts. I seriously had no idea what had happened, or for that matter, what was happening. I just found myself hanging over the bed, a waterfall of bright red puke spewing from my entire face like a broken fire hydrant, the contents of my stomach laid bare on the linoleum floor.
“What happened?” My girlfriend asks, snapping out of her own world and re-entering mine. She looked fucking WEIRD. Her eyes were like saucers, all her parts looked mismatched, her skin was flushed and the size of her mouth was horrifying, like some real Gary Busey type shit.
“I threw up on the bed,” I responded. At this point I looked up and around, amazed at the unprecedented level of fucked I was. This was my first time experiencing this class of hallucinations, I’d essentially jumped 80 rungs on the psychonautic ladder and ended up in the boogie realm, way out of my depth but I was entirely too confused to comprehend any of it, therefore be scared of it. First of all, I noticed that the entire universe had been vertically squashed, like that episode of Futurama where they trap a copy of their own universe inside a box and Fry sits on it. The next thing I realized was that I had completely lost grasp on the concepts of space, shape, pattern, and direction. My view of the room was an absolute M.C. Escher mind-rape. There were doors on the ceiling, the bathroom was sideways, I was upside down and right side up at the same time. I cannot exaggerate how disorienting this was. In reaction to this, I did several backward somersaults on the bed and screamed some insane gibberish at my partner, who was too out of it to care.
Anyways, this didn’t last long. Either as a consequence of my vomiting or the trip coming to its natural end, I quickly found myself de-escalating into everyday sobriety. My "enlightenment'' was fleeting and mostly forgotten, and needless to say, I was very disappointed. Fast forward a month or so, and I’ve ordered some Robocough off eBay, a 4 pack. These are like 5-Hour-Energy sized doses of almost pure DXM in syrup form. They tasted like suffering and I had to take microsips to keep myself from vomiting, but soon enough my partner and I were lying in bed watching Neon Genesis Evangelion, which we had recently both become obsessed with. We’d reached the end of the series and had moved on to the grisly feature film “End of Evangelion”, which, knowing the drug’s strangely morbid character, would serve to get us in the mood for the trip and provide a nice distraction.
I’m conscious, thinking clearly, and then- BAM! Smash cut, I’m drooling, tossing around in the sheets, articulating phrases such as “BLOOBAGA” and “GEBOOGOGO”. I had lost my god damn mind, this must’ve been on exactly 450mg, the exact dosage of a bottle of Robocough according to a drug facts label I found on the internet. We’d recently been marathoning Breaking Bad, and in my demented state of mind was 100% convinced that I was Walter White. I had vivid fantasies of cooking meth, building an empire, running from authorities. I loved my wife Skyler and my son Walter White Jr., and I would be damned if I was gonna let this cancer take me before I secured their future. These fantasies rolled around in my skull like marbles, blending my sulci into a homogenous paste. My closed-eye visuals were dim, photorealistic, chaotic, and lacked any sort of narrative pacing or chronology. It was the sort of delirious state one falls into when entering a hypnagogic state before sleeping, but extended to the length of an entire evening’s worth of delusional garbage.
I was working as a groundskeeper at the time, a job that I had come to hate as it seemed to swallow up my entire existence. I was never not thinking about it, I suffered physical injuries and heat rashes every single day, I was too small to hold some of the machines I had to use. Every weekday was hell, and every weekend was filled with dread, no matter how sunny. I now began to drift out of the Walter White headspace and into an incredibly violent, believable, and upsetting hallucination where I took a weed eater out of the company truck, tracked down my coworkers, and mutilated their faces with it. I really honestly thought I’d committed triple homicide earlier that day, and it was only a moment of time before they would come and take me away. FUCK. This particular delusion lasted a good hour or so. I also, of course, thought I was Shinji Ikari at one point, during the process of trying to watch End of Evangelion. Every shot seemed to be filled with this incredibly dark, malevolent aura, and it didn’t help that we were in the second half, host to some of the most fantastically gut-churning animation in cinema history.
The way DXM alters television for me is a constant source of wonderment. Characters take on that ugly, inhuman quality that real people would in real life, freaky as fuck. They seem to be suspended by some unseen horizontal tether as they walk across a scene, lugging their shoulders as they appear to levitate from place to place. Your sense of time and rhythm is made into spaghetti, so time just seems to happen in beats, meaning that you’re comprehending any given length of time all at once. In the physical world, this results in speech being squeezed out in short bursts, ultimately sounding rushed and undercooked, usually incomprehensible. This also causes you to perform these grand, sweeping actions with your arms and legs, typically knocking over something breakable in the process.
It’s extremely hard to control your body, in an entirely different way than with alcohol. You feel more wakeful and alert than you ever have in your life, at sub-catatonic doses you actually enter this horrifying state of ultra-reality, where you’re waaaaay overly conscious of everything around you. Like the focus enhancement on acid, but unpleasant and bizarre. I would stand in the bathroom for 15 minutes straight, just staring into the toilet, listening to the water dripping inside, wondering how I was never able to hear it before. The toilet became my enemy, it seemed to be taunting me, trying to drive me insane. Making all these obscene noises that it never made before, making me question my own perception. It groaned, it churned, it refused to let up. It also looked strangely low to the ground, like it was almost in the ground. I would chalk this equally up to my fucked up depth perception and generally just not usually thinking about the height of toilets very much.
The DXM headspace frightened me, challenged my conceptions of reality and mortality, forced me to look inwards on the darker aspects of the world and my own sense of self, and most importantly was REALLY fun to mess around with. Despite the sinister nature of the experience, it has this weird sort of indulgent escapist aspect of it. Like I thought if I lived alone, I would spend all my time taking ungodly doses of this shit and just being a total crackhead for days straight, content existing in this comfortable mental oblivion. Obviously not a good idea, but I did go on to unfortunately live this life for a short period, which we’ll get to in a sentence or two.
I continued to use DXM on and off during my time in Texas, probably on a dozen or so occasions over the course of a year. When my girlfriend and I broke up and I moved back to my mom’s house in Missouri, I felt reborn, liberated, and explored my newfound freedom in any way I found possible. I had weekly hookups with strangers, was biking all over the city every day, and of course, doing SHITLOADS of OTC cough medication. I acquired a taste for the longer-lasting and more hallucinatory polisterex variety of DXM, first through Delsym and later through generic brands. Polisterex is a version of the drug mixed with an edible plastic that slows the absorption process, and the effects can last up to an entire DAY if a high dose is taken. I could easily manifest visuals after a certain dosage if I stared hard enough in dark conditions, or simply closed my eyes. They would come out of the darkness in random clusters of chaotic visual information, looking like a postmodern collage of different visual elements. These shards, symbols, and amorphous colored shapes would slowly and creepily float towards me, becoming more detailed and rearranging themselves in ways that seemed to defy the laws of geometry. I was looking straight into the impossible.
I went from one bottle of the regular strength DXM, to two bottles of the regular strength DXM, to one bottle of the polisterex, to two bottles of the polisterex. At this point, I was ingesting up to 800mg every time I dosed, and even in sobriety, my mind began to falter. Once a week, I would take my bike up to the nearest grocery store, where I would buy two bottles and bike back home. I would wait until my mom went to sleep, curl up in the rocking chair in my “office room”, and watch The Boondocks while gingerly sipping my potion like a glass of chardonnay. After the first bottle was finished, I would always inevitably feel all the shit in my body rush directly to my asshole but would be helpless to do anything about it. I get easily nauseous, and simply walking to the bathroom would be a pretty definitive way to end my trip before it even started.
I began to enter a deeply depressive state, spending all day, every day in my room, wigged out on substances and feeling too freakish to show my face outdoors. My mom took notice of my habit and threatened to kick me out, and at this news, I went to the kitchen, took out a chef’s knife, and went back to my room. I rolled the sleeve of my sweater up and cut a large, deep gash horizontally along my forearm. I didn’t mean to cut so deep, I could see my fat deposits. The cut remained pale and still for a moment, before blood began to profusely gush from the open wound, dribbling down and falling from my fingertips to the carpet. Strangely, I felt no pain.
I calmly walked upstairs in a sort of daze, cleaned the wound, and applied a large bandage, before rolling down my sleeve again to hide the cut from my family. Long story short, I got into another argument with my mom, and upon becoming infuriated rolled back the sleeve and showed her what I’d done. She was shocked and told me I needed to go to stay at a psych ward. I had an entire embarrassing breakdown but eventually agreed that I needed to go. I spent about a week there, made a lot of friends, got on medication, and upon leaving felt like an entirely new person. This state of mind lasted maybe two days, tops, before I dove back into the nasty shit and once again resumed my subhuman lifestyle.
One time during this period, while my tolerance was to the one and a half polisterex point, I accidentally drank TWO whole bottles of the stuff when I wasn’t paying attention. Just as I realized what I’d done, I could feel my head building pressure. My brain was shaking, the feeling was becoming unbearable, I was going to blast off. I braced myself, grabbing the arms of the chair and sinking in, and as I did this I heard the dogs of hell screaming in the distance. Harshly modulated, cold, metallic and crashing, their industrial barks marked my descent into hell itself as the still, translucent image of a bulging eyeball formed over the wall I was facing.
The next thing I knew, I was having my first out-of-body experience. My consciousness left my physical self and began to drift out of my bedroom, through the door, and into the hallway, panning as it traveled to reveal photographs my mom had put up on the wall. My life was chronicled in these pictures, and I felt a great sense of loss and longing, knowing that my life was now over, and now being shown everything beautiful that had led up to my demise. My consciousness took a left turn and entered the laundry room, which was rendered in immaculate detail, indiscernible from real life. To this day, I question whether this was a hallucination or not. The camera turned towards the wall and began to pan up, revealing drawings and paintings I made as a child, before reaching the top of the wall, revealing my cat sleeping in the ceiling as she tended to do. It drifted upwards once again through the ceiling of the basement, ending up in the living room, and proceeded to take me on a virtual tour of my own house.
As it continued to move throughout the house, I began to hear the voices of everybody I’d ever known, all chastising me, telling me how stupid I was, for dying, or going insane in such an avoidable manner. This eventually ended and I was able to come back to reality long enough to make it to my room and lie down on my bed. As I passed through the hallway, my view took on sickening distortions, and my sense of movement was just obliterated. It felt like I had no legs, and the universe seemed to be moving around me as I stayed still. I turned off the lights, fell down on my bed, and entered yet another apocalyptic vision. I was traveling through a wormhole in space, with holographic images of my other cat, who was in the room with me, projected onto its inner surface. Like a tube full of TVs, I was zooming through, and everyone in the world continued to tell me that I had gone insane, that I'd fucked up, how I’d never be the same again. I slowly fell under the impression that my mom had locked me in this room, that I’d been down here for months, kept out of sight of the general public for my own good. When I walked around, I seemed to be moving uncontrollably fast, just zooming, like I’d sat on the remote of my life and accidentally pressed the fast-forward button.
When I would close my eyes, I’d see a completely vivid, still, and realistic image of what looked like a blue parachute, hovering above me, with a small impish face grinning in the middle. When I looked at my, cat he seemed to be human and possess a sort of sophisticated sense of consciousness that I hadn’t been aware of before. It really felt like he was just another human being, but a weirdly shaped one. I later found myself unable to urinate and it was quickly becoming a problem. I eventually gathered myself enough to make it to the computer and look up how to fix it online. The only thing that worked was taking a shower, during which I had very convincing delusions of being a world-famous Korean model, shooting a nude magazine feature. (Not true.)
Eventually, I did get kicked out of my mom’s house and was sent over to live with my dad, who was and still is living in squalor and poverty. My mind state worsened further being around him, and while I did not partake in any DXM during this period, I did recontinue my use when we were both kicked out and forced to live in a number of hotels. During this time I started drinking heavily along with my use of DXM, sometimes simultaneously. I was unemployed for most of this period, but when I did find a job I began to use the drug more frequently, in an attempt to help cope with my miserable job at a nursing home during the days of peak-COVID.
The country was shit-scared, and this being a building full of the most susceptible individuals still alive, mandates were enforced heavily. I had to wear not only a surgical mask, but an N95 respirator under it, along with a pair of bulky plastic goggles to protect my eyes. When I took DXM after getting off my shift, I could actually see the outline of the goggles on my face, and no matter what I tried, this annoying visual would never go away. It was like a phantom limb, plaguing every trip I embarked on. During those darkest of nights, I would hide under the covers, taking regular swigs from bottles of off-brand syrup while watching Adult Swim on the shitty motel TV set. I would slip into horrifying 4th plat nightmare realms, where I once again experienced delusions of imprisonment (by the motel staff or the nursing home), and would stumble throughout the halls absolutely out of my mind, going outside to smoke cigarettes on the curb and occasionally falling on my face.
On one occasion I had to use a bathroom during a 4th plat trip, and after shutting the door couldn’t seem to find the light switch. I quickly forgot where I was, and found myself in purgatory. I was suddenly occupying a grand, white hallway, my existence being completely flattened into two dimensions. I walked sideways and encountered a gatekeeper, a chestnut-haired young woman dressed in white robes, who was guiding other lost souls into the afterlife. “Fuck, I’m dead!” I thought. This was the end, there was no more hope for me. I talked with the woman, and through much hardship finally accepted death, and continued through the door behind her. I walked out into the motel room. I felt like a fucking idiot.
Oftentimes during these trips, reality would cease to resemble reality in any distinguishable way. My environment would come apart at the seams, the television would float like a holographic monitor, and I thought that some malevolent entity was forcing me to watch it against my will, brainwashing me. Sometimes I would believe I was an anthropomorphic dog, others I would travel deep underground, seeing the soil and roots in the earth below where I was lying. One time I completely broke through to the other side and existed in something that resembled the movie Aladdin. I was a foxy middle-eastern babe dressed in traditional robes and sparkling gemstones, sitting in the teardrop-shaped window of some towering mosque. I even hopped on a magic carpet and took a ride, but even so, I still felt an overwhelming sense of entrapment and fear, even with no captors.
When I learned that I could potentiate the DXM with DPH, I went kind of overboard with it. I would forget how many pills I took, and end up overdosing on both medications, waking up in this indescribable horrorshow. During these instances, the walls would violently bulge out and wave at me, before receding back and doing it again. The paint would also run down the walls, but not in a pretty, cool, trippy way like with LSD. It was ugly, obscene, scary. It would happen all at once when I would look, it would all drip down so fast, looking watery and thin. Something about it was offensive, as if a sight so gross was an affront to the experience of existence itself. Big, slimy globs of seaweed would float around the room, clinging to the edges where the walls and the ceiling met, sometimes floating towards me in a really off-putting manner. Like they were going to hurt me when they got to me. I had to literally get up and karate chop them out of existence, the hallucinations were so powerful that I couldn’t get them to go away by just looking somewhere else. Friends and relatives would fill the room, standing in military formation as they talked to each other about me. Some would leave, others would come in, it was a constant stream of characters from my life paying visit to me. Sometimes they would vote on some aspect of my personality or something I did, whether they thought it was good or not. They would split into two groups and stand on either side of the room, tallying the votes. Real fucking weird, man.
These were some of the darkest days of my life, some of my most hopeless moments took place in this motel. This all stopped when I met my then-boyfriend, who was a positive influence on me at the time and pushed me to take the steps needed to secure my own apartment. I eventually did, and we lived together happily for a good couple of years, during which we both did DXM together a number of times. Sometimes I would just tripsit, since I’ve known myself to have worrying heart palpitations while on the drug. While on it he would regress to a child-like mental state, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights and talking in a small, uncertain tone of voice that implied fear and confusion. At one point he became terrified at a show we were watching about puppies because their play fighting looked like real fighting. We had to turn it off and watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, but that was also too much. (To be fair, the movie was more fucked up than I remembered.)
We did it with a couple of friends. One expressed interest in it from what we’d said, and we offered to tripsit her if she wanted to try it. We went and picked up a bottle of about 20 softgels from Dollar Tree, equaling out at a low second plat dose. While under its influence, she puzzlingly developed an unrelenting appetite, downing several meals within an hour and afterward still being hungry for more. Weird bodily inconsistency aside, I told her to go look at the toilet at one point. She went into the bathroom, turned on the light, and said “Holy shit! Why is it so low to the ground?”
That part killed me.
Another friend decided to try a 3rd plat dose at our apartment and proceeded to stare at the wall in blind horror for the remainder of the night.
FUCK, even our dog got into the stuff! My ex-boyfriend took too much once and ended up vomiting in the trashcan. We forgot about it, and while our friend was dog sitting, the dog managed to break out of his cage, knock over the trash can, eat the vomit, and then trip balls for several days. I shit you not, this dog saw the face of death and lived to tell the tale. We had to end our camping trip early to come back and take him to a hospital, and this night definitely earned its spot in the top 10 worst moments of my life. His eyes were bulging with fear, he was unable to stand up without help. When we tried to get him to walk, he stepped in his water bowl and slipped, hitting the floor and howling in terror. It was just heartbreaking, I couldn’t handle the sound of him panicking but I had to get him to the car. I hoisted him up, and he’s a big dog, and carried him down the sidewalk and to the curb.
He wouldn’t stop yelping all the way from the apartment to the vet. I just turned around, held his paw, and patted his head, telling him things were going to be alright, letting him know I was there. I don’t think he could see me, he was looking everywhere but at me. He seemed to be in a completely other reality, or in some pitch-dark hellvoid. It was hours before the vets were able to sedate him, they noted him as being in a “highly disturbed state”, but were unconvinced that something as innocent as cough syrup could be the culprit. I was furious, having to explain to these doctors that they were wrong, that the stuff is a highly potent hallucinogen, and that he was overdosing. They ignored my words and only found out the next day that this medication wasn’t quite what they thought it was.
I still feel responsible for this, it’s haunted me since it happened. It’s hard to tell because he was already kind of dumb to begin with, but he might’ve suffered permanent brain damage to some degree. It took him a long time to return to normal, and from then on I always noticed he seemed to hold a certain sadness behind his eyes.
My last and possibly final experience with DXM took place about a week ago. My tolerance is such that I would have to take over a gram of the stuff to get to even low 3rd plat, so I took around 600mg and had a pretty easygoing mid 2nd plat trip. I was dealing with it okay until I decided to take a few hits off my delta-8 cartridge to kick things up a notch. They weren’t really kicked up, I just suddenly became frighteningly aware of everything that was affecting my cognition, as well as the cold, empty feeling in my limbs, the unnerving appearance of the faces on my phone screen. I decided I probably was done with it for good, never wanting to return to a realm so ominous and demented as that of DXM ever again.
I hope this whopper of a story has entertained you, enlightened you on the pros, cons and pitfalls of DXM abuse, and has been relatable to your own experiences on DXM. It’s a powerful, unique drug with a variety of uses, both recreational and shamanic. You could write an entire book on the mysteries of the dex-world, for me it’s one of the most interesting things to learn about in the world of psychoactive chemicals. However, it should be handled with caution and used in moderation if you are to remain yourself and suffer no harm. I have no doubt that I’ve undergone permanent psychological changes, and possibly even suffered neurological harm at the hands of this substance. I won’t condemn it or tell you not to do it, because it's neat, but I do suggest you remain educated on the substance, follow the week-per-plat rule and pay close attention to set and setting, as always.
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2022.01.29 03:37 vcss15 How to Draw a Beautiful Anime Girl Step by Step

How to Draw a Beautiful Anime Girl Step by Step submitted by vcss15 to motivationkiaag [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 thethaosocc Bị đạp vào cổ, sao Nam Mỹ lộ vết thương khủng khiếp

Tiền đạo Matheus Cunha của Brazil đã tiết lộ những vết rách ở cổ sau cú đạp từ thủ môn trong trận gặp Ecuador tại vòng loại World Cup 2022.
xem bài viết chi tiết tại: https://thethaoso.com/bi-dap-vao-co-matheus-cunha-lo-vet-thuong-khung.html?feed_id=24709&_unique_id=61f4e0ba877a8&utm_source=Reddit&utm_medium=Th%E1%BB%83%20Thao%20S%E1%BB%91&utm_campaign=FS%20Poster
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2022.01.29 03:37 a_bit2drunk DJ Madd Blank Space

DJ Madd Blank Space submitted by a_bit2drunk to realdubstep [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 BlueMageTheWizard First patent issued for new 3D printer capable of building football stadiums.

First patent issued for new 3D printer capable of building football stadiums. submitted by BlueMageTheWizard to interestingasfuck [link] [comments]


2022.01.29 03:37 Sleepnaz Need ext type vegetas for chain battle

Please leave your friend code so I can add you as I am trying to get at least 100m. But my friend list just has androids mixed with vegetas so I can’t get good score. I also have very good supporters for super and ext type. So it’s a win win for both if you not getting high scores neither.
Thank you kindly.
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