Alternative Title: LSD Ego Death – A Play in Three Voices

[Epistemic Status: Academic, Casual, and Fictional Analysis of the phenomenology of LSD Ego Death]

Academic:

In this work we advance key novel interpretative frameworks to make sense of the distinct phenomenology that arises when ingesting a high dose of LSD-25 (250μg+). It is often noted that LSD, also known as lysergic acid diethylamide, changes in qualitative character as a function of dose, with a number of phase transitions worth discussing.

Casual:

You start reading an abstract of an academic publication on the topic of LSD phenomenology. What are the chances that you will gain any sense, any inkling, the most basic of hints, of what the high-dose LSD state is like by consuming this kind of media? Perhaps it’s not zero, but in so far as the phenomenological paradigms in mainstream use in the 2020s are concerned, we can be reasonably certain that the piece of media won’t even touch the outer edges of the world of LSD-specific qualia. Right now, you can trust the publication to get right core methodological boundary conditions, like the mg/kg used, the standard deviation of people’s responses to questionnaire items, and the increase in blood pressure at the peak. But at least right now you won’t find a rigorous account of either the phenomenal character (what the experience felt like in detailed colorful phenomenology with precise reproducible parameters) or the semantic content (what the experience was about, the information it allowed you to process, the meaning computed) of the state. For that we need to blend in additional voices to complement the rigidly skeptical vibe and tone of the academic delivery method.

It’s for that reason that we will interweave a casual, matter of fact, “really trying to say what I mean in as many ways as I can even if I sound silly or dumb”, voice (namely, this one, duh!). And more so, in order to address the speculative semantic content in its own terms we shall also include a fantastical voice into the mix. 

Fantastical:

Fuck, you took too much. In many ways you knew that your new druggie friends weren’t to be trusted. Their MDMA pills were bunk, their weed was cheap, and even they pretended to drink more fancy alcohol than they could realistically afford. So it was rather natural for you to assume that their acid tabs would be weak ass. But alas, they turned out to have a really competent, niche, boutique, high-quality acid dealer. She lived only a few miles away and made her own acid, and dosed each tab at an actual, honest-to-God, 120(±10)μg. She also had a lot of cats, for some reason (why this information was relayed to you only once you sobered up was not something you really understood – especially not the part about the cats). Thus, the 2.5 tabs in total you had just taken (well, you took 1/2, then 1, then 1, spaced one hour each, and you had just taken the last dose, meaning you were still very much coming up, and coming up further by the minute) landed you squarely in the 300μg range. But you didn’t know this at the time. In fact, you suspected that the acid was hitting much more strongly than you anticipated for other reasons. You were expecting a 100-150 microgram trip, assuming each tab would be more between 40 and 60μg. But perhaps you really were quite sleep deprived. Or one of the nootropics you had sampled last week turned out to have a longer half-life than you expected and was synergistic with LSD (coluracetam? schizandrol?). Or perhaps it was the mild phenibut withdrawal you were having (you took 2g 72 hours ago, which isn’t much, but LSD amplifies subtle patterns anyway). It wasn’t until about half an hour later, when the final tab started to kick in, that you realized the intensity of the trip kept climbing up still further than you expected, and it really, absolutely, had to be that the acid was much, much stronger than you thought was possible; most likely over 250 mics, as you quickly estimated, and realized the implications.

From experience, you knew that 300 micrograms would cause ego death for sure. Of course people react differently to psychedelics. But in your case, ego death feelings start at around 150, and then even by 225-250 micrograms they would become all-consuming at least for some portion of the trip. In turn, actually taking 300 micrograms for you was ego death overkill, meaning you were most likely not only going to lose it, but be out for no less than an hour. 

What do I mean by being out? And by losing it? The subjective component of the depersonalization that LSD causes is very difficult to explain. This is what this entire document is about. But we can start by describing what it is like from the outside. 

Academic:

The behavioral markers of high dose LSD intoxication include confusion and delusions, as well as visual distortions of sufficient intensity to overcome, block, and replace sensory-activated phenomena. The depersonalization and derealization characteristic of LSD-induced states of consciousness tend to involve themes concerning religious, mystical, fantastical, and science fiction semantic landscapes. It is currently not possible to deduce the phenomenal character of these states of consciousness from within with our mainstream research tools and without compromising the epistemological integrity of our scientists (having them consume the mind-altering substance would, of course, confound the rigor of the analysis).

Casual:

Look, when you “lose it” or when you “are out” what happens from the outside is that you are an unpredictable executor of programs that seem completely random to any external observer. One moment you are quietly sitting, rocking back and forth, on the grass. The next you stand up, walk around peacefully. You sit again, now for literally half an hour without moving. Then you suddenly jump and run for 100m without stopping. And then ask the person who is there, no matter if they are a kid, a grandmother, a cop, a sanitation professional, a sex worker, or a professor, “what do you think about ___”? (where ___ ∈ {consciousness, reality, God, Time, Infinity, Eternity, …}). Of course here reality bifurcates depending on who it is that you happened to have asked this question to. A cop? You might end up arrested. Probably via a short visit to a hospital first. And overall not a great time. A kid? You could be in luck, and the kid might play along without identifying you as a threat, and most likely you continue on your journey without much problem. Or in one of the bad timelines, you end up fighting the kid. Not good. Most likely, if it was a grandmother, you might just activate random helpful programs, like helping her cross the street, and she might not even have the faintest clue (and I mean not the absolute faintest fucking clue) that you’re depersonalized on LSD thinking you’re God and that in a very real, if only phenomenological sense, it was literal Jesus / Christ Consciousness that helped her cross the street.

Under most conditions, the biggest danger that LSD poses is a bad valence reaction, which usually wears off after a few hours and is educational in some way. But when taken at high doses and unsupervised, LSD states can turn into real hazards for the individual and the people around them. Not so much because of malice, or because it triggers animal-like behaviors (it can, rarely, but it’s not why it’s dangerous). The real problem with LSD states in high doses is when you are unsupervised and then you execute random behaviors without knowing who you are, where you are, or even what it is that you are intending to achieve with the actions you are performing. It is therefore *paramount* that if you explore high doses of LSD you do it supervised.

Academic:

What constitutes a small, medium, or large dose of LSD is culture and time-dependent. In the 60s, the average tab used to be between 200 and 400 micrograms. The typical LSD experience was one that included elements of death and rebirth, mystical unions, and complete loss of contact with reality for a period of time. In the present, however, the tabs are closer to the 50-100μg range.

In “psychonaut” circles, which gather in internet forums like bluelight, reddit, and erowid, a “high dose of LSD” might be considered to be 300 micrograms. But in real world, less selected, typical contexts of use for psychedelic and empathogen drugs like dance festivals, a “high dose” might be anything above 150 micrograms. In turn, OG psychonauts like Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert would end up using doses in the 500-1000μg range routinely as part of their own investigations. In contrast, in TIHKAL, Alexander Shulgin lists LSD’s dose range as 60-200 micrograms. Clearly, there is a wide spread of opinions and practices concerning LSD dosing. It is for this reason that one needs to contextualize with historical and cultural details the demographic topos where one is discussing a “high dose of LSD”.

Fantastical:

Being out, and losing it, in your case right now would be disastrous. Why? Because you broke the cardinal sin of psychedelic exploration. You took a high dose of a full psychedelic (e.g. LSD, psilocybin, mescaline, DMT – less so 2C-B or Al-LAD, which have a lower ceiling of depersonalization[1]) without a sitter. Of course you didn’t intend to. You really just wanted to land at the comfortably manageable 100-150 microgram range. But now… now you’re deep into depersonalization-land, and alone. Who knows what you might do? Will you leave your apartment naked? Will someone call the cops? Will you end up in the hospital? You try to visualize future timelines and… something like 40% of them lead to either arrest or hospital or both. Damn it. It’s time to pull all the stops and minimize the bad timelines.

You go to your drug cabinet and decide to take a gabaergic. Here is an important lesson, and where timelines might start to diverge as well. Dosing of sedatives for psychedelic emergencies is a tricky issue. The problem is that sedatives themselves can cause confusion. So there are many stories you can find online of people who take a very large dose of alprazolam (Xanax) or similar (benzo, typically) and then end up both very confused and combative while also tripping really hard. Here interestingly, the added confusion of the sedative plus its anxiolytic effect synergize to make you even more unpredictable. On the other hand, not taking enough is also quite easy, where the LSD (or similar) anxiety and depersonalization continues to overpower the anxiolysis of the sedative.

You gather up all the “adult in the room” energy you can muster and make an educated guess: 600mg of gabapentin and 1g of phenibut. Yet, this will take a while to kick in, and you might depersonalize anytime and start wandering around. You need a plan in the meanwhile. 

Academic:

In the article The Pseudo-Time Arrow we introduced a model of phenomenal time that takes into account the following three assumptions and works out their implications:

1. Indirect Realism About Perception
2. Discrete Moments of Experience
3. Qualia Structuralism

(1) is about how we live in a world-simulation and don’t access the world around us directly. (2) goes into how each moment of experience is itself a whole, and in a way, whatever feeling of space and time we may have, this must be encoded in each moment of experience itself. And (3) states that for any given experience there is a mathematical object whose mathematical features are isomorphic to the phenomenology of the experience (first introduced in Principia Qualia by Michel E. Johnson).

Together, these assumptions entail that the feeling of the passage of time must be encoded as a mathematical feature in each moment of experience. In turn, we speculated that this feature is _implicit causality_ in networks of local binding. Of course the hypothesis is highly speculative, but it was supported by the tantalizing idea that a directed graph could represent different variants of phenomenal time (aka. “exotic phenomenal time”). In particular, this model could account for “moments of eternity”, “time loops”, and even the strange “time splitting/branching”.

Casual:

In some ways, for people like me, LSD is like crack. I have what I have come to call “hyperphilosophia”. I am the kind of person who feels like a failure if I don’t come up with a radically new way of seeing reality by the end of each day. I feel deeply vulnerable, but also deeply intimate, with the nature of reality. Nature at its deepest feels like a brother or sister, basement reality feels close and in some way like a subtle reshuffling of myself. I like trippy ideas, I like to have my thoughts scrambled and then re-annealed in unexpected ways; I delight in combinatorial explosions, emergent effects, unexpected phase transitions, recursive patterns, and the computationally non-trivial. As a 6 year old I used to say that I wanted to be a “physicist mathematician and inventor” (modeling my future career plans around Einstein and Edison); I got deeply depressed for a whole year at the age of 9 when I confronted our mortality head on; and then experiencing a fantastic release at 16 on my first ego death (with weed of all drugs!) when I experienced the taste of Open Individualism; only to then feel depressed again at 20 but now about eternal life and the suffering we’re bound to experience for the rest of time; switching then to pragmatic approaches to reduce suffering and achieve paradise ala David Pearce. Of course this is just a “roll of the dice” and I’m sure I would be telling you about a different philosophical trajectory if we were to sample another timeline. But the point is that all my life I’ve expressed a really intense philosophical temperament. And it feels innate – nobody made me so philosophical – it just happened, as if driven by a force from the deep.

People like us are a certain type for sure, and I know this because out of thousands of people I’ve met I’ve had the fortune of encountering a couple dozen who are like me in these respects. Whether they turned out physicists, artists, or meditators is a matter of personal preference (admittedly the plurality of them is working on AI these days). And in general, it is usually the case that people of this type tend to have a deep interest in psychedelics, for the simple reason that they give you more of what they like than any other drug.

Yes, a powerful pleasant body buzz is appreciated (heroin mellow, meth fizz, and the ring of the Rupa Jhanas are all indeed quite pleasant and intrinsically worthwhile states of consciousness – factoring out their long-term consequences [positive for the Jhanas, negative for heroin and meth]). But that’s not what makes life worth living for people who (suffer from / enjoy their condition of) hyperphilosophia. Rather, it is the beauty of completely new perspectives that illuminate our understanding of reality one way or another that drives us. And LSD, among other tools, often really hits the nail in the head. It makes all the bad trips and nerve wracking anxiety of the state more than worth it in our minds.

One of the striking things about an LSD ego death that is incredibly stimulating from a philosophical perspective is how you handle the feeling of possible futures. Usually the way in which we navigate timelines (this is so seamless that we don’t usually realize how interesting and complex it is) is by imagining that a certain future is real and then “teleporting to it”. We of course don’t teleport to it. But we generate that feeling. And as we plan, we are in a way generating a bunch of wormholes from one future to another (one state of the world to another, chained through a series of actions). But our ability to do this is restricted by our capacity to generate definite, plausible, realistic and achievable chains of future states in our imagination.

On LSD this capacity can become severely impaired. In particular, we often realize that our sense of connection to near futures that we normally feel is in fact not grounded in reality. It’s a kind of mnemonic technique we employ for planning motor actions, but it feels from the inside as if we could control the nearby timelines. On LSD this capacity breaks down and one is forced to instead navigate possible futures via different means. In particular, something that begins to happen above 150 micrograms or so, is that when one imagines a possible future it lingers and refuses to fully collapse. You start experiencing a superposition of possible futures.

For an extreme example, see this quote (from this article) I found in r/BitcoinMarkets by Reddit user  I_DID_LSD_ON_A_PLANE in 2016:

[Trip report of taking a high dose of LSD on an airplane]: So I had what you call “sonder”, a moment of clarity where I realized that I wasn’t the center of the universe, that everyone is just as important as me, everyone has loved ones, stories of lost love etc, they’re the main character in their own movies.

That’s when shit went quantum. All these stories begun sinking in to me. It was as if I was beginning to experience their stories simultaneously. And not just their stories, I began seeing the story of everyone I had ever met in my entire life flash before my eyes. And in this quantum experience, there was a voice that said something about Karma. The voice told me that the plane will crash and that I will be reborn again until the quota of my Karma is at -+0. So, for every ill deed I have done, I would have an ill deed committed to me. For every cheap T-shirt I purchased in my previous life, I would live the life of the poor Asian sweatshop worker sewing that T-shirt. For every hooker I fucked, I would live the life of a fucked hooker.

And it was as if thousands of versions of me was experiencing this moment. It is hard to explain, but in every situation where something could happen, both things happened and I experienced both timelines simultaneously. As I opened my eyes, I noticed how smoke was coming out of the top cabins in the plane. Luggage was falling out. I experienced the airplane crashing a thousand times, and I died and accepted death a thousand times, apologizing to the Karma God for my sins. There was a flash of the brightest white light imagineable and the thousand realities in which I died began fading off. Remaining was only one reality in which the crash didn’t happen. Where I was still sitting in the plane. I could still see the smoke coming out of the plane and as a air stewardess came walking by I asked her if everything was alright. She said “Yes, is everything alright with YOU?”.

Fantastical:

It had been some years since you had done the LSD and Quantum Measurement experiment in order to decide if the feeling of timelines splitting was in any way real. Two caveats about that experiment. First, it used quantum random number generators from Sydney that were no less than 100ms old by the time they were displayed on the screen. And second, you didn’t get the phenomenology of time splitting while on acid during the tests anyway. But having conducted the experiment anyway at least provided some bounds for the phenomenon. Literal superposition of timelines, if real, would need higher doses or more fresh quantum random numbers. Either way, it reassured you somewhat that the effect wasn’t so strong that it could be detected easily.

But now you wish you had done the experiment more thoroughly. Because… the freaking feeling of timelines splitting is absolutely raging with intensity right now and you wish you could know if it’s for real or just a hallucination. And of course, even if just a hallucination, this absolutely changes your model of how phenomenal time must be encoded, because damn, if you can experience multiple timelines at once that means that the structure of experience that encodes time is much more malleable than you thought.

Academic:

A phenomenon reported on high dose LSD is the recursive stacking of internal monologues – this also leads to higher order intentionality and the cross-pollination of narrative voices due to their sudden mutual awareness…

Casual:

Uh? Interesting, I can hear a voice all of a sudden. It calls itself “Academic” and just said something about the stacking of narrative voices.

Fantastical:

It’s always fascinating how on LSD you get a kind of juxtaposition of narrative voices. And in this case, you now have an Academic, a Casual, and a Fantastical narrative stream each happening in a semi-parallel way. And at some point they started to become aware of each other. Commenting on each other. Interlacing and interweaving.

Casual:

Importantly, one of the limiting factors of the academic discourse is that it struggles to interweave detailed phenomenology into its analysis. Thankfully, with the LSD-induced narrative juxtaposition we have a chance to correct this.

Academic:

After reviewing in real time the phenomenology of how you are thinking about future timelines, I would like to posit that the phenomenal character of high dose LSD is characterized by a hyperbolic pseudo-time arrow.

This requires the combination of two paradigms discussed at the Qualia Research Institute. Namely, the pseudo-time arrow, which as we explained tries to make sense of phenomenal time in terms of a directed graph representing moments of experience. And then also the algorithmic reductions introduced in the Hyperbolic Geometry of DMT Experiences. 

The latter deals with the idea that the geometry of our experience is the result of the balance between various forces. Qualia comes up, gets locally bound to other qualia, then disappears. Under normal circumstances, the network that emerges out of these brief connections has a standard Euclidean geometry (or rather, works as a projection of a Euclidean space, but I digress). But DMT perturbs the balance, in part by making more qualia appear, making it last longer, making it vibrate, and making it connect more with each other, which results in a network that has a hyperbolic geometry. In turn, the felt sense of being on DMT is one of _being_ a larger phenomenal space, which is hard to put into words, but possible with the right framework.

What we want to propose now is that on LSD in particular, the characteristic feeling of “timeline splitting” and the even more general “multiple timeline superposition” effect is the result of a hyperbolic geometry, not of phenomenal space as with DMT, but of phenomenal time. In turn, this can be summarized as: LSD induces a hyperbolic curvature along the pseudo-time arrow. 

Casual:

Indeed, one of the deeply unsettling things about high dose LSD experiences is that you get the feeling that you have knowledge of multiple timelines. In fact, there is a strange sense of uncanny uncertainty about which timeline you are in. And here is where a rather scary trick is often played on us by the state.

The feeling of the multiverse feels very palpable when the garbage collector of your phenomenal motor planning scratchpad is broken and you just sort of accumulate plans without collapsing them (a kind of kinesthetic tracer effect).

Fantastical:

Ok, you need to condense your timelines. You can’t let _that_ many fall off the wagon, so to speak. You could depersonalize any moment. You decide that your best bet is to call a friend of yours. He is likely working, but lives in the city right next to yours and could probably get to your place in half an hour if you’re lucky.

> Hello! 

> Hello! I just got out of a meeting. What’s up?

> Er… ok, this is gonna sound strange. I… took too much LSD. And I think I need help.

> Are you ok? LSD is safe, right?

> Yeah, yeah. I think everything will be fine. But I need to collapse the possibility space. This is too much. I can’t deal with all of these timelines. If you come over at least we will be trimming a bunch of them and preventing me from wandering off thinking I’m God.

> Oh, wow. You don’t sound very high? That made sense, haha.

> Duuudde! I’m in a window of lucidity right now. We’re lucky you caught me in one. Please hurry, I don’t know how much longer I can hang in here. I’m about to experience ego death. What happens next is literally up to God, and I don’t know what his plans are.

Your friend says he’ll take an Uber or Lyft and be there as soon as he can. You try to relax. Reality is scolding you. Why did you take this risk? You should know better!

Casual:

One of the unsettling feelings about high dose LSD is that you get to feel how extremely precious and rare a human life is. We tend to imagine that reincarnation would simply be like, say, where you die and then 40 days later come back as a baby in India or China or the United States or Brazil or whatever, based on priors, and rarely in Iceland or tiny Caribbean Islands. But no. Humans are a luxury reincarnation. Animal? Er, yeah, even animals are pretty rare. The more common form is simply in the shape of some cosmic process or another, like intergalactic wind or superheated plasma inside a star. Any co-arising process that takes place in this Gigantic Field of Consciousness we find ourselves embedded in is a possible destination, for the simple reason that…

Academic:

The One-Electron Universe posits that there is only one particle in the entire cosmos, which is going forwards and backwards in time, interfering with itself, interweaving a pattern of path integrals that interlace with each other. If there is only one electron, then the chances of being a “human moment of experience” at a point in time are vanishingly small. The electrons whose pattern of superposition paint a moment of experience are but a tiny vanishing fraction of the four-dimensional density-mass of the one electron in the block universe entailed by quantum mechanics.

Fantastical:

When you realize that you are the one electron in the universe you often experience a complex superposition of emotions. Of course this is limited by your imagination and emotional state. But if you’re clear-headed, curious, and generally open to exploring possibilities, here is where you feel like you are at the middle point of all reality.

You can access all 6 Realms from this central point, and in a way escape the sense of identification with any one of them. Alas, this is not something that one always achieves. It is easy to get caught up in a random stream and end up in, say, the God Realm completely deluded thinking you’re God. Or in the Hell realm, thinking you’re damned forever somehow. Or the animal, seeking simple body pleasures and comfort. Or the human world, being really puzzled and craving cognitively coherent explanations. Or the Hungry Ghost dimension, where you are always looking to fill yourself up and perceive yourself as fundamentally empty and flawed. Or the Titan realm, which adds a perceptual filter where you feel that everything and everyone is in competition with you and you derive your main source of satisfaction from pride and winning.

In the ideal case, during an LSD ego death you manage to hang out right at the center of this wheel, without falling into any of the particular realms. This is where the luminous awareness happens. And it is what feels like the central hub for the multiverse of consciousness, except in a positive, empowering way.

Casual:

In many ways we could say that the scariest feeling during LSD ego death is the complete lack of control over your next rebirth.

Because if you, in a way, truly surrender to the “fact” that we’re all one and that it all happens in Eternity at the same time anyway… do you realize the ramifications that this has? Everything Everywhere All At Once is a freaking documentary.

Fantastical:

> Hello? What’s up?

> Yeah, er, are you coming over?

> Yes. I mean, you just called me… 5 minutes ago. Did you expect I’d be there already? I’m walking towards the Uber.

> Time is passing really slowly, and I’m really losing it now. Can you… please… maybe like, remind me who I am every, like, 30 seconds or so?

> Mmmm ok. I guess that’s a clear instruction. I can be helpful, sure.

[for the next 40 minutes, in the Uber headed to your place, your friend kept saying your name every 30 seconds, sometimes also his name, and sometimes reminding you where you are and why you called him – bless his soul]

Casual:

Imagine that you are God. You are walking around in the “Garden of Possibilities”. Except that we’re not talking about static possibilities. Rather, we’re talking about processes. Algorithms, really. You walk around and stumble upon a little set of instructions that, when executed, turns you into a little snowflake shape. Or perhaps turns you into a tree-like shape (cf. l-systems). When you’re lucky, it turns you into a beautiful crystalline flower. In these cases, the time that you spend embodying the process is small. Like a little popcorn reality: you encounter, consume, and move on. But every once in a while you encounter a set of instructions that could take a very long time to execute. Due to principles of computational irreducibility, it is also impossible for you to determine in advance (at least in all, most cases) how long the process will take. So every once in a while you encounter a Busy Beaver and end up taking a very, very, very long time to compute that process.

Busy beaver values for different parameters (source)

But guess what? You are God. You’re eternal. You are forever. You will always come back and continue on your walk. But oh boy, from the point of view of the experience of being what the Busy Beaver executes, you do exist for a very long time. From the point of view of God, no matter how long this process takes, it will still be a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. God has been countless times in Busy Beavers and will be countless times there again as well. So enjoy being a flower, or a caterpillar, or a raindrop, or even an electron, because most of the time you’re stuck being ridiculously long processes like the Busy Beaver.

Academic:

Under the assumption that the hyperbolic pseudo-time arrow idea is on the right track, we can speculate about how this might come about from a configuration of a feedback system. As we’ve seen before, an important aspect of the phenomenal character of psychedelic states of consciousness is captured by the tracer pattern. More so, as we discussed in the video about DMT and hyperbolic geometry, one of the ways in which psychedelic states can be modeled is in terms of a feedback system with a certain level of noise. Assume that LSD produces a tracer effect where, approximately, 15 times per second you get a strobe and a replay effect overlay on top of your current experience. What would this do to your representation of the passage of time and the way you parse possible futures?

FRAKSL video I made to illustrate hyperbolic pseudo-time arrows coming out of a feedback system (notice how change propagates fractally across the layers).

Casual:

I think that LSD’s characteristic “vibrational frequency” is somewhere between phenethylamines and tryptamines. 2C-B strikes me as in the 10hz range for most vibrations, whereas psilocybin is closer to 20hz. LSD might be around 15hz. And one of the high-level insights that the lens of connectome-specific harmonic modes (or more recently geometric eigenmodes) gives us is that functional localization and harmonic modulation might be intertwined. In other words, the reason why a particular part of the brain might do what it does is because it is a great tuning knob for the harmonic modes that critically hinge on that region of the brain. This overall lens was used by Michael E. Johnson in Principia Qualia to speculate that the pleasure centers are responsible for high variance in valence precisely because they are strategically positioned in a place where large-scale harmony can be easily modulated. With this sort of approach in mind (we could call it even a research aesthetic, where for every spatial pattern there is a temporal dynamic and vice versa) I reckon that partly what explains the _epistemological_ effects of LSD at high doses involves the saturation of specific frequencies for conscious compute. What do I mean by this?

Say indeed that a good approximation for a conscious state is a weighted sum of harmonic modes. This does not take into account the non-linearities (how the presence of a harmonic mode affects other ones) but it might be a great 60%-of-the-way-there kind of approximation. If so, I reckon that we use some “frequency bands” to store specific kinds of information that corresponds to the information that is naturally encoded with rhythms of specific frequencies. It turns out, in this picture, that we have a sort of collection of inner clocks that are sampling the environment to pick up on patterns that repeat at different scales. We have a slow clock that samples every hour or so, one that samples every 10 minutes, one that samples every minute, every 10 seconds, every second, and then at 10, 20, 30, 40, and even 50hz. All of these inner clocks meet with each other to interlace and interweave a “fabric of subjective time”. When we want to know at a glance how we’re doing, we sample a fragment of this “fabric of subjective time” and it contains information about how we’re doing right now, how we were doing a minute ago, an hour, a day, and even longer. Of course sometimes we need to sample the fabric for a while in order to notice more subtle patterns. But the point is that our sense of reality in time seems to be constructed out of the co-occurrence of many metronomes at different scales. 

I think that in particular the spatio-temporal resonant modes that LSD over-excites the most are actually really load-bearing for constructing our sense of our context. It’s as if when you energize too much one of these resonant modes, you actually push it to a smaller range of possible configurations (more smooth sinusoidal waves rather than intricate textures). By super-saturating the energy in some of these harmonics on LSD, you flip over to a regime where there is really no available space for information to be encoded. You can therefore feel extremely alive and real, and yet when you query the “time fabric” you notice that there are big missing components. The information that you would usually get about who you are, where you are, what you have been doing for the last couple of hours, and so on, is instead replaced by a kind of eternal-seeming feeling of always having existed exactly as you currently are.

Fantastical:

If it wasn’t because of your friend helpfully reminding you where you were and who you are, you would have certainly forgotten the nature of your context and for sure wandered off. The scene was shifting widely, and each phenomenal object or construct was composed of a never ending stream of gestalts competing for the space to take hold as the canonical representation (and yet, of course, always superseded by yet another “better fit”, constantly updating).

The feeling of the multiverse was crushing. Here is where you remembered how various pieces of media express aspects of the phenomenology of high dose LSD (warning: mild spoilers – for the movies and for reality as a whole):

• Everything Everywhere All At Once: in the movie one tunes into other timelines in order to learn the skills that one has in those alternative lifepaths. But this comes with one side-effect, which is that you continue to be connected to the timeline from which you’re learning a skill. In other words, you form a bond across timelines that drags you down as the cost of accessing their skill. On high dose LSD you get the feeling that yes, you can learn a lot from visualizing other timelines, but you also incur the cost of loading up your sensory screen with information you can’t get rid of.
• The Matrix: the connection is both the obvious one and a non-obvious one. First, yes, the reason this is relevant is because being inside a simulation might feel like a plausible hypothesis while on a high dose of LSD. But less intuitively, the Matrix also fits the bill when it comes to the handling of future-past interactions. The “Don’t worry about the vase” scene (which I imagine Zvi named his blog after) highlights that there is an intertwining between future and past that forges destiny. And many of the feelings about how the future and past are connected echo this theme on a high dose of LSD.
• Rick and Morty (selected episodes):
  • Death Crystal: here the similarity is in how on LSD you feel that you can go to any given future timeline by imagining clearly a given outcome and then using it as a frame of reference to fill in the details backwards.
  • A Rickle in Time: how the timelines split but can in some ways remain aware of and affect each other.
  • Mortynight Run: In the fictional game Roy: A Life Well Lived you get to experience a whole human lifetime in what looks like minutes from the outside in order to test how you do in a different reality. 
• Tenet: Here the premise is that you can go back in time, but only one second per second and using special gear (reversed air tanks, in their case).

Of these, perhaps the most surprising to people would be Tenet. So let me elaborate. There are two Tenet-like phenomenologies you experience as your friend is on the way to pick you up worth commenting on:

One, what we could call the “don’t go this way” phenomenology. Here you get the feeling that you make a particular choice. E.g. go to the other room to take more gabapentin and see if that helps (of course it won’t – it’s only been 15 minutes since you took it and it hasn’t even kicked in). Then you visualize briefly what that timeline feels like, and you get the feeling of living through it. Suddenly you snap back into the present moment and decide not to go there. This leaves a taste in your mouth of having gone there, of having been there, of living through the whole thing, just to decide 10 years down the line that you would rather come back and make a different choice.

At the extreme of this phenomenology you find yourself feeling like you’ve lived every possible timeline. And in a way, you “realize” that you’re, in the words of Teafaerie, a deeply jaded God looking for an escape from endless loops. So you “remember” (cf. anamnesis) that you chose to forget on purpose so that you could live as a human in peace, believing others are real, humbly accepting a simple life, lost in a narrative of your own making. The “realization” can be crushing, of course, and is often a gateway to a particular kind of depersonalization/derealization where you walk around claiming you’re God. Alas, this only happens in a sweet spot of intoxication, and since you went above even that, you’ll have a more thorough ego death.

Two, an even more unsettling Tenet-like phenomenology is the feeling that “other timelines are asking for your help – Big Time wants you to volunteer for the Time War!”. Here things go quantum, and completely bonkers. The feeling is the result of having the sense that you can navigate timelines with your mind in a much deeper way than, say, just making choices one at a time. This is a profound feeling, and conveying it in writing is of course a massive stretch. But even the Bering Strait was crossed by hominids once, and this stretch feels also crossable by us with the right ambition.

The multiverse is very large. You see, imagine what it would be like to restart college. One level here is where you start again from day 1. In other timelines you make different friends, read other books, take other classes, have other lovers, major in other disciplines. Now go backwards even a little further back, to when the academic housing committee was making decisions about who goes to which dorm. Then the multiverse diversifies, as you see a combinatorial explosion of possible dorm configurations. Further back, when the admissions committee was making their decisions, and you have an even greater expansion of the multiverse where different class configurations are generated.

Now imagine being able to “search” this bulky multiverse. How do you search it? Of course you could go action by action. But due to chaos, within important parameters like the set of people you’re likely to meet, possibilities quickly get scrambled. The worlds where you chose that bike versus that other bike in that particular moment aren’t much more similar to each other than other random ways of partitioning the timelines. Rather, you need to find pivotal decisions, as well as _anchor feelings_. E.g. It really matters if a particular bad technology is discovered and deployed, because that drastically changes the texture of an entire category of timelines. It is better for you to search timelines via general vibes and feelings like that, because that will really segment the multiverse into meaningfully different outcomes. This is the way in which you can move along timelines on high doses of LSD. You generate the feeling of things “having been a certain way” and you try to leave everything else as loose and unconstrained as possible, so that you search through the path integral of superpositions of all possible worlds where the feeling arises, and every once in a while when you “sample” the superposition you get a plausible universe where this is real.

Now, on 150 or 200 micrograms this feels very hypothetical, and the activity can be quite fun. On 300 micrograms, this feels real. It is actually quite spooky, because you feel a lot of responsibility here. As if the way in which you chose to digest cosmic feelings right there could lock in either a positive or negative timeline for you and your loved ones.

Here is where the Time War comes into play. I didn’t choose this. I don’t like this meme. But it is part of the phenomenology, and I think it is better that we address it head-on rather than let it surprise you and screw you up in one way or another.

The sense of realism that high dose LSD produces is unreal. It feels so real that it feels dreamy. But importantly, the sense of future timelines being truly there in a way is often hard to escape. With this you often get a crushing sense of responsibility. And together with the “don’t go this way” you can experience a feeling of a sort of “ping pong with the multiverse of possibilities” where you feel like you go backwards and forwards in countless cycles searching for a viable, good future for yourself and for everyone. 

In some ways, you may feel like you go to the End of Times when you’ve lived all possible lifetimes and reconverge on the Godhead (I’m not making this up, this is a common type of experience for some reason). Importantly, you often feel like there are _powerful_ cosmic forces at play, that the reason for your life is profound, and that you are playing an important role for the development of consciousness. One might even experience corner-case exotic phenomenal time like states of mind with two arrows of time that are perpendicular to each other (unpacking this would take us an entire new writeup, so we shall save it for another time). And sometimes you can feel like your moral fiber is tested in often incredibly uncomfortable ways by these exotic phenomenal time effects.

Here is an example.

As your sense of “awareness of other timelines” increases, so does your capacity to sense timelines where things are going really well and timelines where things are going really poorly. Like, there are timelines where your friend is also having a heart attack right now, and then those where he crashes on the way to your apartment, and those where there’s a meteorite falling into your city, and so on. Likewise, there’s one where he is about to win the lottery, where you are about to make a profound discovery about reality that stands the test of sober inquiry, where someone just encountered the cure for cancer, and so on. One unsettling feeling you often get on high dose LSD is that because you’re more or less looking at these possibilities “from the point of view of eternity” in a way you are all of them at once. “Even the bad ones?” – yes, unsettlingly, even the bad ones. So the scary moral-fiber-testing thought that sometimes you might get is if you’d volunteer to be in one of the bad ones so that “a version of you gets to be in the good one”. In other words, if you’re everyone, wouldn’t you be willing to trade places? Oftentimes here’s where Open Individualism gets scary and spooky and where talking to someone else to get confirmation that there are parallel conscious narrative streams around is really helpful.

Casual:

We could say that LSD is like a completely different drug depending on the dose range you hit:

Below 50 micrograms it is like a stimulant with stoning undertones. A bit giggly, a bit dissociating, but pretty normal otherwise.

Between 50 and 150 you have a drug that is generally really entertaining, gentle, and for the most part manageable. You get a significant expansion in the room available to have thoughts and feelings, as if your inner scratch pads got doubled in size. Colors, sounds, and bodily feelings all significantly intensified, but still feel like amplified versions of normal life.

Between 150 and 250 you get all of the super stereotypical psychedelic effects, with very noticeable drifting, tracers, symmetries, apophenia, recursive processes, and fractal interlocking landscapes. It is also somewhat dissociative and part of your experience might feel dreamy and blurry, while perhaps the majority of your field is sharp, bright, and very alive.

From 250 to 350 it turns into a multiverse travel situation, where you forget where you are and who you are and at times that you even took a drug. You might be an electron for what feels like millions of years. You might witness a supernova in slow motion. You might spontaneously become absorbed into space (perhaps as a high energy high dimensional version of the 5th Jhana). And you might feel like you hit some kind of God computer that compiles human lifetimes in order to learn about itself. You might also experience the feeling of a massive ball of light colliding with you that turns you into the Rainbow version of the Godhead for a time that might range between seconds and minutes. It’s a very intense experience.

And above? I don’t know, to be honest.

Academic:

The intermittent collapse into “eternity” reported on high dose LSD could perhaps be interpreted as stumbling into fixed points of a feedback system. Similarly to how pointing a camera directly at its own video feed at the right angle produces a perfectly static image. On the other hand, we might speculate that many of the “time branching” effects are instead the result of a feedback system where each iteration doubles the number of images (akin to using a mirror to cover a portion of the screen and reflect the uncovered part of the screen).

Video I made with FRAKSL in order to illustrate exactly the transition between a hyperbolic pseudo-time arrow and a geometric fixed point in a feedback system. This aims to capture the toggle during LSD ego death between experiencing multiple timelines and collapsing into moments of eternity.

Fantastical: 

You decide that you do want to keep playing the game. You don’t want to roll the dice. You don’t want to embrace Eternity, and with it, all of the timelines, even the ugly ones. You don’t want to be a volunteer in the Time War. You just want to be a normal person, though of course the knowledge you’ve gained would be tough to lose. So you have to make a choice. Either you forget what you learned, or you quit the game. What are you going to do?

As you start really peaking and the existential choice is presented to you, your friend finally arrives outside of your apartment. The entrance is very cinematic, as you witness it both from your phone as well as in real life, like the convergence of two parallel reality streams collapsing into a single intersubjective hologram via a parallax effect. It was intense.

Casual:

You have to admit, the juxtaposition of narrative streams with different stylistic proclivities really does enrich the human condition. In a way, this is one of the things that makes LSD so valuable: you get to experience simultaneously sets of vibes/stances/emotions/attitudes that would generally never co-exist. This is, at least in part, what might be responsible for increasing your psychological integration after the trip; you experience a kind of multi-context harmonization (cf. gestalt annealing). It’s why it’s hard to “hide from yourself on acid” – because the mechanism that usually keeps our incoherent parts compartmentalized breaks down under intense generalized tracers that maintain interweaving, semi-paralel, narrative streams. Importantly, the juxtaposition of narrative voices is computationally non-trivial. It expands the experiential base in a way that allows for fruitful cross-pollination between academic ways of thinking and our immediate phenomenology. Perhaps this is important from a scientific point of view.

Fantastical: 

With your friend in the apartment taking care of you – or rather, more precisely, reducing possibility-space to a manageable narrative smear, and an acceptable degree of leakage into bad timelines – you can finally relax. More so, the sedatives finally kick in, and the psychedelic effects reduce by maybe 20-25% in the span of an hour or so. You end up having an absolutely great time, and choose to keep playing the game. You forget you’re God, and decide to push the question of whether to fall into Nirvana for good till the next trip.

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[1] LSD has a rather peculiar dose-response curve. It is not a “light” psychedelic, although it can certainly be used to have light experiences. Drugs like AL-LAD are sometimes described as relatively shallow in that they don’t produce the full depth of richness LSD does. Or 2C-B/2C-I, which tend to come with a more grounded sense of reality relative to the intensity of the sensory amplification. Or DMT, which despite its extreme reality-replacing effects, tends to nonetheless give you a sense of rhythm and timing that keeps the sense of self intact along some dimensions. LSD is a full psychedelic in that at higher doses it really deeply challenges one’s sense of reality. I have never heard of someone take 2C-B at, say, 30mg and freak out so badly that they believe that reality is about to end or that they are God and wish they didn’t know it. But on 200-400 micrograms of LSD this is routine. Of course you may not externalize it, but the “egocidal” effects of acid are powerful and hard to miss, and they are in some ways much deeper and transformative than the colorful show of DMT or the love of MDMA because it is ruthless in its insistence, methodical in its approach, and patient like water (which over decades can carve deep into rocks). As Christopher Bach says in LSD and the Mind of the Universe: “An LSD session grinds slow but it grinds fine. It gives us time to be engaged and changed by the realities we are encountering. I think this polishing influences both the eventual clarity of our perception in these states and what we are able to bring back from them, both in terms of healing and understanding”. There’s a real sense in which part of the power of LSD comes from its capacity to make you see something for long periods of time that under normal circumstances would have us flinch in a snap.