DMT and exploding jars of acid

Dimehtlytriptamine. DMT. Ayahuasca. Dimitri. The spirit molecule. The business man’s acid trip. Terrence McKenna. Joe Rogan. A 15-minute long blast off into a different realm and plane of reality. Digitized auditory signals processed in your brain mixed with amazingly sharp colors being fractalized right in front of your fucking face. Cherrypick the best 15 minutes of an 8-hour acid or mushroom trip and this puts you in the same general ballpark of a DMT trip. For those that aren’t familiar with it, DMT is a naturally occurring element (in both plants and animals) that can be extracted from completely legal ingredients. I have smoked DMT countless times. I have performed the DMT extraction process at least 20 times. Mostly from my loft in the Heights of Houston.

For a while, I channeled all of my energy and focus into researching and extraction of DMT. As a recovering drug addict, I am conflicted promoting any controlled substance, but in this case, I feel that both my good friend, Jess, and the DMT Gods would approve of this message so that helps me feel better. Also, I’m a criminal meth addict that lives with his parents so it’s not like my voice carries a lot of weight with it in the first place, lmao!



Where the fuck do I start to accurately and objectively describe DMT?

I think it best to start with my mind set when DMT made its first appearance in my life. I had my fair share of drug experiences in college. I absolutely love electronic music and when I moved to Texas for undergrad, I fell hard into the Texas rave scene. Around 1999-2003 there used to be huge outdoor electronic music festivals in and around Texas. It was not uncommon for there to be several thousand ravers at these events. I went to a college with mostly “rich kids” and while I was definitely not one of them, I had a close-knit circle of fellow student-druggies. Since there is such a thing as student-athletes, I can confirm there are also student-druggies. Instead of balancing out academics with athletic accomplishments, we balanced out our studies with controlled hardcore drug use. I will disclaim that meth never made its rounds in this circle. We were mainly weed, ecstasy, acid, mushrooms, coke, and prescription pills. Heroin or meth users were not common place. I had many amazing experiences with psychedelics during this time. Insightful mushroom trips with close friends out in the middle of nowhere in the beautiful Texas hill country at sunset. Multiple hits of Hello Kitty acid mixed with candy kids and light shows at the night time raves. My impressionable and young self didn’t mind the 4-6 hour (if not longer) tripping sessions back then. After graduating, however, I no longer sought out psychedelic journeys. I had no regrets on any of those tripping experiences I had, but I did not feel a need or desire to further explore my inner psyche. I was content. Kind of been there, done that, type shit.



I have no recollection of even hearing about DMT until sometime around 2015. This was after I had started doing meth, left my job, and taken a turn for the fast life. I had heard of DMT a couple of times from random people telling me it was cool and that I should try it. It wasn’t a very common discussion though. My homegirl and meth dealer, Arielle, not only brought large amounts of ice and GHB into my life, but also smoked me out for the first time on DMT. Initially, I wasn’t interested. I told her I had no interest in tripping and wasn’t into experimenting with any new psychedelics. But damn, she just would not shut up about it. “Oh my Gawwwwd alphatweaker!! You HAVE to try this. It is the most amazing thing ever! You have to try it!” “Arielle, I have absolutely no interest in that shit. I have already tripped plenty and don’t need that in my life right now.” I knew on some weird deep level inside me, that what I was doing was wrong and fucked up and the last thing I needed was some deep introspective journey into life decisions. Yet, there we were this one night. It was on one of her many trips to Houston from Dallas after we had met and while we were doing a lot of transactional business. She happened to have scored some DMT and wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She got me fucked up on a lot of GHB and convinced me to smoke it. My first trip was while I was fucked up on G, but I still felt the effects and it was unlike anything I had ever tried before.



It is extremely difficult, if not impossible, to accurately convey a DMT trip in writing. Having tripped on it many times, I still don’t really know how to describe it to someone that has never done any type of psychedelic before. One of the immediate aspects that resonated with me at that time, and the way that I was able to convince many people that had no interest in it, was how slowly and gradually you can step into the waters of a DMT trip. We would sprinkle the DMT powder onto a bowl of weed, ashes, or chore-boy (kind of like a metal brillo pad material) and hit it one toke at a time. For nervous first-timers, I would let them know that they could try a very small hit at first and see how it makes them feel. If they liked what they felt, they could continue taking more hits and deepening the trip. Ultimately, they become comfortable enough to take a large rip and “blast off.” Not a single person that I ever introduced to this “easing your way in” concept ever stopped at the first hit. I have probably exposed at least 30 people to this experience. After you take the first small hit, you feel a tingly type of excitement through your body. A pleasant dopamine and serotonin type filled rush and a distinct buzzing sensation in your head. When you take the second and third hits, audio sounds digitize and, in my experiences, there is a very distinct noise. I checked around multiple DMT forums and the closest, most accurate description is this specific 20 seconds in the middle of this Fatboy Slim track. From that starting point, everyday sounds slow down and digitize evolving into the high pitched buzzing digital siren. It is very similar.



The experience from this point forward varies. Again, there is no way I can accurately describe each trip as each trip is its own unique experience. People sometimes describe a group of small entities welcoming you to the new and strange world you have arrived at. I personally do not recall ever having such an encounter with multiple small entities, but I did experience on more than one trip, the definitive presence of one large square-headed and angular shaped 8-bit Atari ant-man boss type motherfucker. He wasn’t scary at all. Quite the opposite. He gave off a vibe that he was kind of smirking at me and was entertained with the fact that I was there. He was welcoming in a very odd way. This always occurred towards the end of my trip. Its sounds ridiculous to type out a DMT trip and try to explain it in verbiage that doesn’t make you sound like you have absolutely lost your mind. From an objective stand point, I will say with absolute certainty that after the digitized auditory sounds; colors absolutely explode. Lines, angles, squares, and shapes become quite frankly magnificent and overtly distinct. The corners of walls and doorways jump and float out towards you. After the noise, color and shape enhancement; angles and lines come screaming into your visual cortex and you suddenly find yourself in a completely new and colorful world. Accurately describing this world is harder than I thought it would be. I have erased and re-written much of this over and over again. There was a warm and welcoming type vibe. Like it was OK that you were there exploring this new world. A feeling that someone, or some entity, was glad that you took the risk to open your mind and this was your reward. The sheer beauty of the colors and overall experience made me feel more connected with other humans and with whatever waits for us after we take our last breath.



Having been witness and facilitator of many peoples’ first trips, I was absolutely floored when one lady who had never heard of it before described, to a T, the exact same trip that Terrence McKenna described. This was fascinating. She literally described a floating and colorful chrysanthemum. She also spoke of dozens of happy little elf-type entities that were excited and happy that she was there. Not only did she describe the same physical descriptions as Terrance McKenna, but she also described them in the exact same order. When I played his YouTube video on him describing this trip she was speechless. She ended up becoming a huge advocate of DMT and heavily promoted it from then on out. Many others, including myself, had bits and pieces of this same McKenna vision. I have seen the chrysanthemum, but again, I never encountered a bunch of little entities. It’s odd to share this thought of mine, but I believe that once you do enough DMT to get over the awe of the visuals and audio transgressions, you can then explore beyond that awestruck feeling and learn more about whatever the reason is this particular element exists.



DMT, like any other potent drug, also has some downsides. Sometimes when I would blast off for the second or third time in the same day, I got a very real feeling that I shouldn’t have done that. I never had a bad trip per se, but I did have multiple trips where I had a gut instinctual feeling that I shouldn’t be doing it that frequently and with so little respect for the drug and experience. Ultimately, I made a rule that I would only blast off no more than once a day. It just didn’t feel right to do otherwise. The DMT entities would not approve of abuse of this precious substance. I realize this sounds abnormal, but I am honestly trying to describe this from as objectively as a viewpoint that I can.



While I unexpectedly fell in love with the experience as a user, what hooked me on to diving deeper into DMT extraction boiled down to a simple economic-based supply and demand type argument. Nobody had it, and the few people that did were charging out the ass for it. When I saw the profit margin possibilities and lack of supply, it made sense to devote some time to this. I also wanted learn a trade that would not only be exciting to do, but could possibly be a fallback plan for me if the shit were to really ever hit the fan. In Dallas, DMT can easily go for $80- $150 a gram. The most I ever sold it for was $250 for a single gram to some businessman in Austin.



Even though I was under the influence of G and Ice my first trip, I was still nervous. As I took the second and third hits, I almost started to panic. I was totally disassociating my mind from my physical body and it was a feeling I hadn’t had in years. Last time was around 2013 when I brought back some really good acid from a trip to the Bay Area. I dropped three hits and tripped balls by myself at Glenwood Cemetery of Houston on a beautiful spring afternoon.

As I started to get this nervous feeling, I guess Arielle saw some uncertainty in my face. I heard her calmly and gently say, “It’s OK. You are OK alphatweaker. Don’t fight it. Just let your mind go and surrender to the trip.” Everything went smoothly after that. From the bottom of my heart, I truly believe every human should experience this at least once. You should be in a comfortable, safe, and controlled environment. Surround yourself with good natured people that you fully trust.



After that first trip, I immediately started asking Arielle to tell me more about this wonderfully peculiar new drug. She told me she buys it whenever it comes around and she had been having a hard time finding and keeping a reliable connect for it. This batch, she told me she paid $180 worth of cash and ice in trade for the gram. She mentioned she bought as much as she could at that price and would have purchased more at the drop of a hat if she could. As I started reading more about DMT, I got stuck on it and went down the DMT rabbit hole. Wikipedia, Erowid, and Youtube all have tons of information. Before Joe Rogan put a celebrity voice behind DMT, Terrence McKenna was the man. He was a college professor that lectured across the country advocating DMT. I totally agree with him on his analysis that when he describes his DMT trips he is not recalling one trip, but a conglomerate mix of multiple sessions over time. After reading what I could find online, I determined that I could extract this shit using completely legal items that can be purchased online and at Goodwill.



As I mentioned earlier, DMT is naturally occurring in both plants and animals. The pineal cone in the brain (also called the third eye), manages the release of DMT in our bodies when we die. The brain itself is nearly a complete mirror image of two brain hemispheres. The Pineal Gland is the only part of the brain that isn’t mirrored on the other side. Indians wear the red dot (Bindi) in the space on their forehead between the eyebrows to acknowledge the location of this gland. Some say the Pineal Gland is responsible for orchestrating the transport of our physical mind and self from our physical human body form, to wherever the fuck it is that we go after leaving our physical body behind. I don’t want to get too bogged down with DMT specifics because anyone can Google it and find plenty of information from others that have more experience than I do.





I ended up finding a seller up north in Wisconsin that had good online reviews for purchasing the primary root bark (Mimosa Hostilis) from which DMT extractions are most commonly made from. While it is naturally occurring in almost all living beings, some plants happen to have more DMT than others. The legal cover story for purchasing the root is to use is as a color dye. Today, sacs of 100 grams of the root that you extract it from sell for $30. You can purchase a full kilo of this root for under $200. When I first started I was yielding around 1 gram of smokeable DMT powder for every 100 grams of the root. Eventually, my processes improved and when I was last running extractions, I was able to yield 2-3 grams of smokable DMT per 100 grams of root in less than 24 hours. Some batches of root were better than the others, but this is an average yield I would expect.



After hours and days online searching through Erowid and Google, I convinced myself to give it a shot. I had never done anything close to a chemical extraction like this before. Some websites say this is a simple, follow-the-recipe type process, but it was harder for me than I thought it would be. The closest experience I had to anything close to what I was about to do was chem lab in college. I’m pretty sure I got a D in that course. I don’t recall finding one single posting online that clearly encapsulated the entire end-to-end process. However, since there are hundreds of instructions online how to do this, I said fuck it, let’s see what happens and I went to work accumulating the ingredients and supplies.



Being on ice, like Adderall, I became obsessed with the extraction process. The first step is to order the plant bark from online. You then use vinegar and 100% sodium hydroxide (acid/lye), to soak and break down the root into its most basic chemical components. Once the root is broken down, you add naptha/paint thinner to extract the DMT from the mixture. “Science” happens and the Naptha binds to the free floating DMT molecules. You then pull only the Naptha from the mix and evaporate the liquid, which leaves the DMT behind. I completely underestimated the risks I was taking doing this. This acid is very fucking dangerous. About as dangerous a substance that you can buy over the counter. When you take the acid and mix it with water and the pulverized root in the first steps, it becomes this deep purple colored mix of sludge. One of the sets of instructions involved use of a hot plate. I looked all over craigslist and couldn’t find one cheap so my dumbass substituted a real hot plate with my own genius make shift hot plate. I saw no problem putting a sealed glass jar of this highly acidic root mix directly onto the bottom of a saucepan. I placed about a half inch of water in the saucepan and then set the jar directly into the pan that was being heated on my stove. The first time I did this, I heated the acid and root in the sealed jar for about 20 minutes. When I went to lift this jar of acid mix out of the saucepan it fucking exploded. The jar shattered into a bunch of pieces and the deep colored purple mix went all over my stove and some of it splashed onto me. When you get this mix on your hands, your fingers feel very slippery. I later read that this slipperiness is a result of your own skin melting. The purple mixture ran all over the place. I guarantee you that if you move that stove back from the wall today of my old loft in the Heights, the back wall behind it will still be stained purple. I am beyond lucky that this jar didn’t explode on a larger scale and blow glass and acid right into my face. It made a huge mess and like failing that second level of the CFA exam, the extraction process then became personal. There was no stopping me now. Oh, you want to explode in my face? Well I will show you type shit. I refined my process after that, but, in the course of my attempts, there was a total of at least 4 or 5 jars that burst like this. I guess I am not a very good chemist. I should have just stopped at that point, but there was no way I was going to have gone so far as to order and wait for the root to arrive then buying all the supplies for me to just give up.



Once I had successfully not blown up the jar of acid, the root and acid breakdown step was pretty much complete. The next step is to toss some Naptha/paint thinner into the mix and roll it around and mix it up. The Naptha floats on the surface of the sludge in a similar way as to when you mix oil and water. I don’t know the mechanics of this reaction, but “science” happens and the Naptha more or less reaches into the root mix and binds itself to the free-floating DMT molecules. After doing this, you need to only pull the Naptha portion out leaving the purple sludge as purely as you can. To compare it with a mix of oil and water, you need to only remove the oil portion and leave the water behind. The recipe called for use of a separatory funnel; I used a turkey baster. I would pull out the Naptha, place it on a glass baking dish, and then place the dish in the freezer until it all evaporated. On a quick side note, the freezer does end up smelling like paint thinner. I can speak from personal experience that frozen and sealed chicken nuggets will still take on just a hint of paint thinner taste if you try eating them after evaporating Naptha in the same freezer. When the Naptha has evaporated, the bottom of the baking dish is speckled with a whitish/yellowish dust. You take a razor blade and scrape together the dust and that is your DMT. In my early extractions, I would wear plastic goggles, heavy rubber gloves, long sleeves, a face mask, and boots and jeans. Towards the end, I would be in my boxer shorts, shaking up the jar with my arm fully extended so that if it spilt, it didn’t get on me, lol. My place looked like a chem lab and rumors about what I was doing spread. I was a meth cook in some circles. This process freaked out a lot of my meth customers that stopped in for a quick pick up. I had acid, jars, blenders, turkey basters, eye masks, sometimes shattered glass, and facemasks just laying out. For the paranoid tweaker you can imagine how uncomfortable this made them.



I was Mr. DMT for a while. I heavily promoted its usage and tried to talk everyone that came over to my place into trying it. I didn’t charge people for this. I was genuinely excited to see their reactions. As time progressed, some people got just as hooked on this stuff as I did.

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They also saw the potential and that I was able to extract it and some wanted to do the same. When people asked me to teach them, I would tell them to order the root and when they received it, I would come over show them how to make it. I would charge half of the yield of the first batch as payment. This worked well for all parties involved.



On Christmas Day of 2016, I was staying in a hotel by myself and feeling down about it being Christmas and here I was a fucked off tweaker all alone. Its a very depressing feeling that forces you to turn to the drug even more to try and numb that bad feeling; it’s hard to explain. Anyways, a gameroom partner friend of mine called me telling me that this girl, Jess, has heard about my DMT and was looking to buy some. I happened to have some of the root but no kitchen at my disposal. My partner relayed this information to her and told me to call her directly, “Merry Christmas Jess (yeah right!) So, I have some of the root, I just need a place to cook it.” Jess was mixed up in the same fast life and ran around in the same meth and drug circle as me. She was a young, gorgeous, 21 year old. She had actually dated my game room partner for a while so we knew each other somewhat. She was single again and also alone and a bit down being alone on Christmas just like me. Jess lived by herself in an apartment and she ended up telling me that I could come over and do the extraction at her spot. I jumped all over that offer. Jess was a pretty heavy drug addict. Both heroin and meth, but like me also loved smoking weed along with ice. Jess was from Houston. Her mother had passed away from cancer or some illness not long ago and she took it hard. She loved her cat and would often spend hours stuck in front of the mirror getting her makeup just right. I used to make fun of her for this, but I must admit that when she was done, it always looked on point and she was pretty fucking hot. She was on the younger side of people I usually chilled with, but mature for a 21 year old. She was a hustler. Drove a nice car, had nice furniture in her apartment, and was able to live well independently without having a “real” job. She was a sweet girl.



On this Christmas Day, I went over to her apartment and ran through an overview with her of what I needed to do. Since most stores were closed, we sat around and did a bunch of drugs all night and played music in her place. I liked Jess a lot. It was hard not too. Our real relationship had started on that Christmas Day, when we were both alone, and just happened to never have any negativity or bad shit brought into it. Kind of rare for this tweaker world. That morning we were still up and she came along with me with the shopping list I had made. We had fun getting all the supplies at Goodwill and Lowes. Almost like we were a married couple shopping for groceries and running errands, except we were shopping for jars, acids, and the perfect turkey baster for DMT extraction. It was a fun type of shopping for both of us.



When we got back to her place I started the extraction process. I completely exploited the fact that she didn’t know Jack shit about what I was doing. I prolonged each step by hours so that I could stay at her place and keep having fun with her. She didn’t seem to mind. I had a lot of ice and G and so we got high while I used the DMT process as an excuse to camp out at her place for a couple days. When the extraction was complete, I showed her the last step of scraping and she thought it was so cool. She was so excited. It was literally like putting icing on a homemade cake and being excited about getting to eat it. Same concept. Us also both being alone on Christmas, we bonded that night. Her first DMT trip captured her full attention and she loved it as I did. We talked about what led us both to being alone that Christmas season and we made a pact that we would make this a tradition. Every Christmas would be Jess and alphatweaker’s DMT Day. We ended up becoming close friends. I would end up going back to her place multiple times over the next year or so and following this same routine. She thought it was hilarious when she found out I could do it in much less time than that first time. Jess always helped me when I needed it. She would let me use the office room of her fancy apartment complex to run fraud shit anytime I needed to. I would bring her designer bags and purses and I-watches whenever I had some to spare. She joined me on the rooftop hot tub at Sawyer’s upscale Townhome and we always had a good time. Never really got on each other’s nerves or argued or fought about dumb shit that didn’t matter. It makes what happened to her that much worse.



Shortly after I got out of jail on January 25th 2017, I was talking with an old girl friend of mine and she asked me if I had heard what happened to Jess. My heart sank. That’s never a good question to hear and I had heard it before. “Did she overdose on H!?” I asked. “Oh alphatweaker noooo no no…She was killed in a triple homicide along with her dad and some guy she was with.” “Uhhhh WHAT?!?” I was shocked. You have to be fucking kidding me. Jess had been blown away with an AR-15 in a triple homicide. I have no problem sharing Jess’ real name. She had no siblings that I was aware of, both parents are dead now, and her closest friend is a tweaker girl that stole my friend’s car. I would love for this bitch to try and tell me something about showing Jess in a bad light. I don’t think Jess would have a problem with the truth I shared in this story. The guy that killed her, Jeff Noble, had probably hooked up with her and caught feelings. It happened to her quite a bit. She was just overall very sexy, fun, and an attractive human being. The dude’s mugshot looks like a classic tweaker face. In the news article, the red Honda that was taken from the scene is actually my gameroom partners car. He too, was locked up at the time. Jessica’s death helped seal the fact that the life and circle I was running in was a good one to not be a part of anymore. I could have easily been with Jess at this time. I knew and had met her father several times. He was an older hippie type looking guy and was super nice. He was over at Jess’ place frequently and we had spoken on multiple occasions.



Arielle opening my eyes to DMT played a pretty big role in my life for this time period. I was never able to actually profit and monetize my extraction skills to the level I had initially sought. Whenever I sat on large amounts of DMT, I was so excited that I just gave it away for people to try. I sold very little of it. It’s so labor intensive to make that by the time I had a couple of grams accumulated, I would share it all and smoke everyone out and then maybe only sell like a half gram or gram. For some reason I didn’t feel right commoditizing it. The DMT gods would not approve of such a motive.



Arielle, on the other hand, lost herself completely in this shit. When I tripped on DMT I only liked to do it once a day. The first high is the good one and then everything else after that just isn’t the same when you smoke it repeatedly. Arielle felt differently. She smoked more DMT than anyone I had ever met. She became obsessed with it. Smoking it upwards of 5-6 times a day. She had rigged up a 3-liter soda bottle to function as a gravity bong and was able to create huge rips of smoke at once. Completely blasting off with one huge hit. I would see her sparingly around once or twice a month, and if I happen to come during a time where she was smoking a lot of DMT I noticed a significant difference in her personality. She would get very angry and became kind of disconnected and aloof. One time in particular I remember. She was talking to me about her recent DMT trips and blast offs and was telling me how focused it made her. She asked me to promise not to laugh and I said sure. She then revealed to me that she can move shit with her mind. Like, not joking around, could literally move shit with her mind. I didn’t quite know how to respond to that. I was like “Wait what? What are you talking about Arielle? Are you hearing yourself right now?” She started to get flustered and upset. She was almost in tears, literally crying and saying that no one believed her that she could do this. I kind of felt bad for making her upset so I said “OK, Arielle, you know what? I am going to give you a chance here. You have my complete, undivided, and full attention for 10 minutes. I have a completely open mind and will give you a chance to prove this to me.” She said ok. She told me to look at a small wicker ball on the ground. I gave her my full attention and laid down on my stomach on the floor directly in front of this ball. My face was maybe 10 inches away. I said alright Arielle, it’s just you and me here. I’m going to give you the 10 minutes and then I don’t want to hear about it again. Ok fine she said.



This was pretty hilarious to watch. Arielle got this super serious look on her face and stared at this little wicker ball on the floor. She put her hand up to her temple and breathed out a serous “okay.” True to my word, I laid on the ground and started the timer on my phone. She took a rip of DMT and we stared together at the ball. I kept looking at her and then the ball and then my phone timer. A little awkward but okay. Times almost up. Still no ball movement. As my timer went off, I turned it off and stood up and faced her. “Well?” She all of the sudden goes “Wait! There did you see it?” She was serious about this. Completely dead serious. There was definitely no movement of the ball whatsoever. I called her ass out immediately. I remember I let out a big scream “Oh helllllss nah!!!” I attacked her poking her in her belly and tickling her as we fell back on her couch. “Fuck outta here!!” I told her. We both laughed our asses off. From that moment forward whenever she brought up anything related to her having mental powers, I always brought that up and reminded her that I gave her that fair shot and chance to do it. I’m ashamed to admit that I had to remind her of that multiple times. Unfortunately, her increased DMT usage put a strain on our relationship. At times, we would uncharacteristically get into a yelling argument and it would click to me that this wasn’t her. I would literally tell her “Oh yeah I forgot! You are one of your DMT binges and that’s why you are being like this!” It caused a noticeable difference in her demeanor. She internalized more and wasn’t the same cool girl she usually was. She became a mean bitchy tweaker demon girl.





I know I am no authority on the matter and I have no formal schooling in addiction and recovery. However, it is my belief that every human being should try smoking DMT at least once in their lives. The situation must be a controlled environment and it must also be done for self-reflection purposes. It’s not a “party” drug. It shouldn’t be done drunkenly or in a loud obnoxious group of screaming adolescents. This sounds weird now, but I had a whole process I followed when I introduced DMT to someone new. I respected them for having the willingness to open their minds and I set out to create a safe and fun setting. There was never more than 3-4 people in the room. I set my Phillips Hue lights to the underwater blue and green theme. I sometimes played music if I knew what they liked, but I think silence was perfectly fine too. I would put a natural landscape photo up on my flatscreen TV. I also had a bright yellow reflective construction worker type vest. I would put this vest on and let them know that I would be their guide for this journey. If at any time they felt lost, they were to look for my reflective vest and I would guide them safely out of harms way. They would usually laugh and I laughed along as well. No one ever had a bad trip with me and I loved doing this.



All being said. DMT helped bring some calmness and clarity into a chaotic life at the time. I imagine the trip would be different if I wasn’t high on ice at the same time but my tolerance was way up at this time so ice was like coffee to me. I would never, ever, recommend or encourage anyone in the world to test and experiment with meth. DMT is the complete opposite. I am a huge advocate and believe it is something that should be shared and celebrated. It is beyond a beautiful experience. I feel like I haven’t come close to doing it justice with these words, but like I said I think the DMT gods and Jess would approve.

Rest in peace Jess. I miss you too.











