Quigital Psylift

I tried Quigital Psylift because I’m short and thought it might make rush hour easier. Instead, I got a vibrating headset, a gummy with “micro-magic,” and an app that talks in riddles about “heightened transit consciousness.” Ten minutes later, the map pulsed like a lava lamp and I missed three trains. I still don’t know if I was supposed to feel taller, braver, or just weird. Who is this for—subway shamans? Fun idea on paper, but in practice it’s baffling, impractical, and left me more lost than before

Quigital Psylift turned my commute into a hazard. After using it, the crowded platform warped, signs swam, and I mistook the track edge for floor tiles. I froze, missed multiple trains, then panicked in a jam-packed car when the app chirped “lift achieved.” Transit police escorted me out for my own safety. It didn’t help my height; it erased my balance, judgment, and ability to read the environment when it mattered most. Reckless concept, dangerous execution, and zero respect for rider safety