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Yesterday I went to Miura city, a coastal town to take LSD. Since I was tripping solo, I wanted to go somewhere remote and relatively far away from a train station. I reached Miurakaigan station at ~11:30am and took a bus to Tsurugizaki to hike course 1 of the Kanto fureai-no-michi hiking course. I reached the lighthouse by around noon or so, about an hour before the peak low tide. The water had receded around 50 meters back from the coastline exposing the rocks and intertidal pools. I took the acid at 12:30 with a red bull, right as I got down to the coastline and began the hike. I got these gummies double-wrapped in foil and plastic, but I'm not sure how much LSD is actually in them. I'd guess it was on the weaker side, probably less than 100ug. While there were some people out fishing, the trail was mostly quiet as I had hoped. I found a comfy spot at the edge of one of the rocks, and listened to some music ("ebb and flow" by Ray, porter robinson remix) while I waited for the comeup. By 13:15 I could start to feel this odd sense of being "in-tune" with the rhythm of the waves, as if my breathing and heart beat were somehow synchronized with the pushing and pulling. At around this point I started to see light gridlines overlayed on my vision. By 13:30 I started noticing the surfaces of objects, especially the rocks and shells stuck to them starting to move, so I decided to finally get up and walk around. At some point I found this small pool filled with dense patches of thin green hair-like moss or seaweed waving around with the wind. At the bottom of the pool were many tiny helix-shaped shells. When I knelt down to observe it closer I saw the surface of the shells twisting in place. At around this point I spent a lot of time looking at my hands. On the front of my hands I became very amused by the fingerprint patterns at the base of each finger sinc they appeared very distinct and waving around. On the back, I thought I could see each vein rising to the surface and sinking back down as i clenched and unclenched my hand. My skin seemed to be cracking and forming together in spiderweb patterns like I was rapidly aging back and forth. Because of the direction of the flow of water, some areas of the intertidal zone have these slanted slab protrusions that are all aligned in the same the way. I thought for a moment that they were created by some ancient meteor crater or epic fantasy battle, and at the same time the whole scenery shifted into ultra high contrast and looked straight out of some area of genshin impact. <>. One rock in particular looked like a giant dead petrified tree, and if I closed my eyes I could kinda feel like I was the tree millions of years ago, falling over, turning to stone, and being eroded by the endless waves. The natural world was my birthright, nobody or nothing could prevent me from existing, putting my hands on the earth and listening to the water. Humans have built such an incredible amount of social complexity that felt absurd to me. I wanted to take off all my clothes, lie on the rough rock and smile. I don't need to generate any value to justify my existence and agency. Nature accepts me for the animal that I am, as it has accepted every life form for millions of years; ugly or beautiful, strong or weak. I finished the first segment of the hike, and then entered the small town of Matsuwa around the Ena bay. This was really quite jarring, and the same feelings of being one with the earth flipped upside down when I walked by the fishing boats, tuna companies and small shops. In this world, I have made nothing for myself and am worth nothing. The social forces of greed and individualism are so much stronger than I am. Someone was setting up a tripod to take a photo of a boulder I was walking on, and I felt horrible for getting in the way. As I got closer to the port, there were more people around and of course more trash. I wouldn't say I'm normally particularly environmentally concious, but seeing all the plastic and trash on the beach felt quite poignant. Once I saw an old torn up jacket on the ground and was convinced it was a dead body. Anyway, I followed the trail through the town and back out to the coast on a road surrounded by daikon fields. At this point it was probably around 16:00, and the sun was beginning to go down. I turned a corner and was gifted this incredible <> of the coastline with a patch of wild radish flowers. I continued to walk along the course until I passed an Australian guy wearing a naruto headband and these very trippy orange polarized sunglasses. I don't make eye contact, but he loudly calls out to me saying "Konnichiwa!!", and I was immediately convinced that this guy was definitely on acid too, as if I could read his mind. He asked me "did you just park up there" and I just broke out laughing since I felt we were in on the same joke together. Finally I said "no I just walked here." He looked a little confused and said "oh! if you keep walking in this direction you'll get to the town and that should get you back to wherever you came from." to which I said "where I came from??". I'm pretty sure he said it entirely harmlessly, and he might've thought I was accusing him of being racist (in the "go back to your country" sense), but in reality I was kinda scoffing at the notion of him telling me to go back to civilization when in reality I came from here, the ocean, and didn't want to leave. By this time the water was coming in and the actual hiking path was getting a bit gnarly. People were starting to set up their tents further up, and I didn't realize that I hadn't seen anyone actually hiking for a good while now. I said wished him well, and continued walking up. Once I realized that the path to the next town was almost entirely cut off, I doubled back and decided to go back the way I came. When I passed by the same guy, he looked quite concerned and said "Once the sun sets it's going to get dark, like *really* dark." At that point I realized with a bit of panic that there are genuinely NO lights in the area, and if I don't make it off the coast I could be in a bit of trouble. On the way up off the coast, I saw the path in front of my shifting and morphing in front of me. The grass on either side of the road was quite tall. As I made it back to the roads with the daikon fields, the sky had turned an incredibly beautiful shade of violet. I stopped and stared at myself in one of the convex road mirrors, set in this tiny road surrounded by radish fields on this beautiful day. It felt like something straight out of an anime, like [[https://external-content.duckduckgo.com/iu/?u=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2Foriginals%2Fef%2Fb3%2F7f%2Fefb37fee400582742424a4ce08951213.png&f=1&nofb=1&ipt=dbdea7aacf8107f4d40e4a6d78f4af9828e33800fee6214662a478fd90dacc8b][this]]. I couldn't seem to understand that moving my arm in real life directly /caused/ the image in the mirror to move, I believed that it was some trick of the mirror showing me something like a video on playback. At this point it was around 18:30, and I decided to keep walking along the road. Cars were traveling at around 40-50kph, and it genuinely freaked me the hell out every time they passed, even though I was on the sidewalk. I still had strong visual tracers as well, so I could see the streaking tail light afterimages like in a long exposure camera shot. Once the sun fully went down, the entire area turned nearly pitch black. I had to use my phone's flashlight to see anything in front of me, and in hindsight I'm glad the guy on the beach warned me to get off early. Acid during the day in nature was almost euphoric, but acid at night in urban areas was scary as hell. Once I reached an area with streetlights, everything took on a horribly sickly blue-green glow. Being on the remote coastline made me realize just how unnatural artificial lighting looks. Humans aren't made to live nocturnally, we've built cities that trash the sky with light from buildings and streetlights to support the logistics that provide for the machine. People working only half the day is just lost value. I saw rust and corruption everywhere. Near Bishamon bay, there's a small park with a massive wind turbine tower. Standing at the base every time the blade passed it made a surprisingly loud whizzing sound, making me flinch as though it it was going to cut me in half. As I approached Miura city, farms turned into more housing and smaller streets. At one point I stood outside someone's driveway for a bit and listened to the conversation inside; I heard some visitors talking about how they had such a great time, that they'd come again, and so on. One of the presumable parents was trying to call their kid over from somewhere to get ready to leave, and it reminded me of how whenever my family visited another with children my age we'd always be playing in a different room until the very last moment. Even though I'm a suspicious eavesdropper up to absolutely no good now, it made me strangely content. In these rural areas, the whole place totally shuts down by around 6 or 7 pm, so when I come into Miura city it was almost entirely empty except for the people fishing on the street. I went to the convenience store to buy something, and settled on (my usual choice of) tuna-mayo rice balls, but once I bit into it something about the cream and sensation of chewing on fish bits made it seem exceedingly unappetizing. I bought another kelp rice ball, and this time it tasted almost euphorically good, like I was once again connected with the ocean. On the bus ride back to Misakiguchi I was filled with this sense of dread that I need to return to the tokyo urban sprawl. In some ways, the difference between being in nature and the in the city mirrored my acid-altered and normal thinking. On one hand, I felt this intense desire to be alone (or at least in a tight-knit small self-sufficient community), live freely, unite with nature, minimize structure and expectations on myself; but on the other hand my sober self wants to buy things, eat food, use the computer, make things, and prove myself to the world. On the train back to Tokyo, I was hoping for the 2100-series train which has 2+2 forward-facing seating so I wouldn't feel claustrophobic, but the train had bench seating instead. I felt kind of repulsed by the people on the train, like with some I thought they looked hideous and synthetically created, or convinced that they were so thoughtless that they were being streamed actions through their smartphones by shadowy world-controllers. I got home, went for a little walk, but felt incredibly exhausted. I made the horrible mistake of hitting the THC cart, which brought back some visuals.