From Euphroia to nightmare: The Bassnectar show

My RA took me to a Bassnectar concert and I lost my mind on molly.

And I don’t mean that in the cute, “I kissed three people and danced all night” kind of way. I mean- I actually lost my mind.

Liam was my college mentor, resident advisor, weed plug, molly supplier, and one of my closest friends. I adored him. He felt like family. We’d hang out between classes, roll joints in the dorm lounge, and go on blunt cruises with my roommates like it was a religious practice. I trusted him with my life.

He was deep in the bass scene- obsessed with Bassnectar- and when he invited me to a show at the university auditorium, I said yes without hesitation. I didn’t even care who was playing. I just loved to dance. Loved to feel free. I threw on a ripped crop top, tiny shorts, and my stomping boots. I was ready to sweat. Especially since we were taking molly.

Oh, molly- raver goddess of the night. She makes your heart race, your skin hum, and your serotonin pour out like champagne. I was ready to fall in love a dozen times before midnight. I was ready to ascend.

Before we left, we took a final bong hit, then admired the bag of molly: glittering purple crystals that looked like tiny amethysts. Gorgeous. Dangerous. I pressed my finger into the bag and licked it clean. Not even close to a measured dose. Even as it hit my tongue, I knew I’d taken too much.

Liam looked at me, raised his eyebrows, and followed suit. “Fuck it,” he said and we left for the show.

By the time we got to our seats, the come-up was punching through me.

Not a gentle rise- no. This was a tidal wave. My heart was pounding, my skin crawling, my vision bending sideways. The music hadn’t even started yet and I already felt like I was going to crawl out of my own body.

Then the lights went down.

Bass dropped.

The crowd roared.

And I launched.

Twenty minutes in and my vision started to fade. Everything blurred, colors melting together, people’s faces glitching like broken animation. I shut my eyes and kept dancing, hoping I looked normal. (Spoiler: I absolutely did not.)

I ditched Liam. I couldn’t explain it- I needed to move. Fast. I sprinted to the top of the auditorium. Then down to the floor. I was possessed. I kissed strangers. I made and abandoned best friends in the span of minutes. I was on a wild, feverish hunt for meaning, sensation, something- anything- to ground me.

And then, it happened.

I was dancing alone on the far side of the auditorium when I noticed a man sitting alone in the seats. Something about him was off. He was too still. Too creepy. I stared, trying to figure out what was wrong with the picture- until it hit me:

He was masturbating.

Right there. In public. At a show full of college kids. I gagged. My body froze. Then bolted.

I needed out.

I stumbled my way to the balcony, half-blind, trying to get air. The wind hit my face but did nothing to soothe the panic now screeching inside my bones. I was rolling so hard I couldn’t even look at my phone. The letters and lights made me nauseous. I couldn’t see, couldn’t call Liam, couldn’t trust anything around me.

I had completely untethered.

And then, like a thread thrown into chaos, I heard my name.

“Hanna!”

I whipped around. I couldn’t see shit, but the voice kept calling me.

“Hanna! It’s Ashleigh- from high school!”

I followed the sound, hands dragging along the cold metal railing, inching toward the familiarity of someone- anyone- who knew my name. When I finally reached her, I grabbed her face, trying to anchor myself in a reality that felt like it was slipping out of my fingers.

“Oh my god, Ashleigh. I can’t see. I’m rolling face. I need to sit.”

Angel that she is, she gave me her water. I sat down. Three seconds felt like three hours. And then I stood back up. I had to find Liam. I needed something familiar- anything safe.

I went back to where it all started- our seats.He was there. Still dancing. Still okay.

The rest of the night is a blur. I don’t know how I made it home. I don’t remember the final songs. What I do remember is the cold grip of fear, the predator in the crowd, and the feeling of my brain being way too far from my body.

I didn’t know then what I know now, but years later it would come out that Lorin Ashton, a.k.a. Bassnectar, had multiple allegations against him. Underage girls. Sex trafficking. Child pornography. That’s the energy I felt. That’s the shadow I couldn’t name that night. My body had picked up what my conscious mind couldn’t yet see.

It made sense, suddenly, why that night felt like a descent into something dark, something parasitic masquerading as freedom. I promised myself I’d never get that out-of-body on molly again. Sure, I’d roll again here and there, but never like that. Never without a tether.

These days, I like my bliss a little softer. A little more grounded.

That’s why I made BLISS-

an herbal electuary that gives you the glow without the blackout. Euphoric, heart-opening, serotonin-boosting pleasure without the blind panic and shadowy edges. A sweet, sensual high that lets you dance all night and still look yourself in the mirror.

Because now, I know: you don’t have to lose yourself to feel free. You can get high and stay whole.

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The most loyal cheater i know