Imagine a world where the walls between reality and illusion dissolve - not from a hallucinogen chemical like acid, but from the flicker of screens and the hum of algorithms. Both acid trips and social media warp our perception, bending reality into something malleable, even convincible. On acid, the mind becomes a sponge, soaking up distortions as truth: patterns breathe, time stretches, and ordinary objects pulse with hidden meaning. Social media, in its own way, does the same. It feeds us curated fragments - a friend’s highlight reel, a viral conspiracy theory, a meme that reduces chaos to a joke - and asks us to accept them as the whole truth. Under its influence, we’re just as suggestible.

When you’re tripping, the brain’s filters weaken. Sensory input floods in unfiltered, blending imagination with the tangible world. Social media mimics this by dismantling our cognitive gatekeepers. Algorithms pump our feeds with emotionally charged content - outrage, euphoria, fear - bypassing logic to hijack our limbic system. A post claiming “EVERYONE is talking about this!” feels urgent, real , even if it’s a fringe view amplified by bots. Like acid’s heightened suggestibility, we’re primed to accept these distortions because they’re delivered in the context of our “tribe,” our curated network of follows and likes. The more we engage, the more the trip intensifies.

Both experiences thrive on fractured reality. On acid, you might fixate on a crack in the wall, convinced it holds cosmic significance. On social media, a single tweet can balloon into a global “discourse,” its importance inflated by retweets and quote-replies. Neither the crack nor the tweet are inherently meaningful - but under the spell of altered perception, they become focal points for collective obsession. Viral trends, like hallucinatory visions, feel vivid and all-consuming in the moment, only to evaporate days later, leaving us wondering why we ever cared.

Yet there’s a key difference: acid trips are solitary spirals inward, while social media’s hallucination is shared or collective. When everyone around you is tripping on the same narrative - whether it’s a political ideology, a wellness fad, or a celebrity scandal - the illusion gains credibility. Consensus becomes its own truth serum. You don’t question the absurdity of a “Facebook witch hunt” or a corporate brand suddenly acting like your best friend because, well, everyone else is nodding along too. It’s a communal trip where the rules of reality are rewritten by the loudest voices and slickest algorithms.

And just as a bad trip can spiral into paranoia, social media’s distortions breed their own anxieties. A flood of doomscrolling content convinces you the world is collapsing; curated perfectionism leaves you feeling inadequate. The platforms, like a relentless psychedelic, don’t let you look away. You keep scrolling, chasing the next hit of validation or outrage, even as the line between your screen and your psyche blurs.

So how do you sober up? With acid, you wait for the chemicals to metabolize. With social media, the detox is more intentional. Step outside the feed. Talk to someone who isn’t glued to their phone. Question the urgency of that viral “crisis.” Remember: what feels like reality online is often just a collective projection, a hallucination polished by a million thumbs-ups.

Both trips end, eventually. The question is whether you’ll exit the social media rabbit hole with clarity - or keep chasing shadows, mistaking the digital haze for daylight.