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The bitter-sweet parting of the ways.
There was loads of it when I initially purchased. Two big fat chalky grams representing what I truly believed to be a lifetime supply, an active quantity being virtually invisible.

Microdosing whenever the mood took me, I found I was able to manage and enjoy a trouble-free relationship with the substance provided I measured carefully and didn't combine it with large quantities of alcohol. Tolerance was fine at this level. The substance was odorless and fine for socialising. It supported multiple ROIs.The ship sailed plainly for a good long time.

But what started as a fat baggy eventually began to reduce not unlike an aging party balloon. The thick band of white powder became increasingly triangular until the remainder occupied only one corner of the bag. The extreme potency of the substance allowed me to ignore this fact for a period, but the end was in sight. I watched in denial as I emptied the baggie and rubbed tobacco into it's every corner in my attempt to retrieve each speck of noid. I carefully cut the sides from the bag, held one end in my mouth with the other in my hand and slid a butter knife along it's length like I was stropping a razor. The tiny line that resulted on the blade was the last of this substance that I'd ever have. I mixed it with tobacco and smoked it. It was every bit as effective as the first time I tried it.

It was painfully apparent that not even homeopathic quantities remained. Well, I thought, that's definitely the very last of it. You've been doing it virtually every day for years and now it's run out. From the look of things, you really liked it and your body will be used to it. So it might be bad. How about getting something positive from the experience? How does one say goodbye to a chemical?

I thought about thanking the substance (because we'd had some really good times) or some other kind of affirmation. But this was too anthropomorphic given the substance wasn't alive. Yet we'd had a relationship for a good long time. I'd learned a lot about myself and it and had grown in the process. In the grand scheme of things the chemical had been non-toxic, had kept me engaged under tedious circumstances, contributed to musing and introspection and even provided a social kick. I had a lot to be happy for. I was struck by the fact that the only other entity capable of producing similar effects in humans is another human. I could see why Shulgin named his book that way.

I realised that the process of researching a substance is actually one of self-realisation. In exploring the chemical we discover ourselves. Maybe, if the lesson is fully learned, then we no longer need the chemical. I was certainly grateful for the entire experience.

Unsure of whether I would ultimately relapse and attempt to reacquire, or whether I could maintain knowledge of what it did clearly enough to not need it, I folded the empty sealer bag up so that the chemical structure on the label was hidden.

Then I dropped it in the bin and walked away.
The only thing I found weird about that little story was that it was a noid. You surprised me.
“If the words 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness' don't include the right to experiment with your own consciousness, then the Declaration of Independence isn't worth the hemp it was written on.” ~ Terence McKenna
Good read, I enjoyed it a lot :)
They say pain is relative, it certainly feels like a relative of mine... One that I can't get rid of.
Just about everything corinth writes is a good read
From what I've seen and remember I'd agree with you there, still it's especially nice to see a new post lol so I felt the need to comment xD
They say pain is relative, it certainly feels like a relative of mine... One that I can't get rid of.
Aye, new posts are a little thin on the ground these days...

Good to see that a hardcore few are keeping things ticking over though

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