Citation: Mike. "Purity of Thought: An Experience with Amphetamines (Adderall) (exp17014)". Erowid.org. Jul 27, 2005. erowid.org/exp/17014
I am under the influence of 60 milligrams of Adderall, my friend is sound asleep in a neighboring room, and it is four o'clock in the morning. For some reason, I cannot bring myself to do anything, not even the things I usually enjoy. I am not listening to music, reading, or writing. I had to force myself to take my gaze of a fixed point on my wall paper and sit down and write in order to avoid going insane. My body and mind are operating too fast to allow me to do anything but talk. Or, in this case, write since there is no one awake to talk to.
I am not even on the verge of coming down, and am already slightly depressed. I wish I had some idea of what to do. I find that I now understand language, communication, and interaction extremely well. But there is no one to explain it to, since my friend understands it just as well as I do, and is asleep, dreaming about what I now ponder. I'd write about it now, if the ideas didn't flow so much faster than the speed at which I type. Things like this have to be spoken of, which is why Jesus and Buddha had people write the books for them, and merely communicated their concepts. I wonder if they used some early form of this substance.
I am truly going insane, since I don't know what to think, nor whether or not I like what I feel right now. I know that I like what flows between my skull however. I see myself standing in a sea of human forms. They are people from my past, predominantly the girls I have fallen in love with, if only for a moment or two. I look at them each, and we smile knowingly. I am tempted to take another 20 milligrams, but will not for fear of the possible side effects. Who am I kidding? I do not fear anything right now, I am simply unable to make any decision whatsoever regarding anything that exists outside of my head. I can't even force myself to get higher, something I usually never refuse.
I would like to run, swim, or fuck. That way my mind wouldn't have to wait for my body to catch up. I hate this drug, for it brings you an artificial happiness and excitement. Yet I find that all the thoughts I have had during sobriety have suddenly come together. With the power of communication I have right now, I could most likely convert the Pope himself to an atheist, Buddhist, or whatever I felt like. My mind is slowly taking the form of one huge string of ideas. Language is the encryption of thought. Even the preceding statement is shrouded in confusion by the words used. But I have deciphered the code.
I wish I was in love with someone other than one random, unidentified girl from a dream and another from my driver's education class. If I could, I would write a letter to a girl right now and explain everything to her. Girls usually understand these things so much better. I said that I hate Adderall, but I know that I also love it. I find myself facing a paradox. The experience itself is amazing, for the thoughts you have are unbelievable, especially considering the fact that this is basically a very simple drug with predictable, mediocre effects. There are no hallucinations or delusions, just simple ideas about existence. However, the after effects can often be devastatingly depressing, for one wonders why the unity of thought has suddenly been abandoned.
With some drugs, like ecstasy, you fall in love with everyone. With Adderall, you think at first that you will do so, then you realize that in actuality, you are crawling into the minds of everyone you speak to, and showing them your thoughts while admiring theirs. I wish, in a way, that I was sitting in the passenger seat of a fast moving car. I could look at the passing drivers, make eye contact, and read the pages of their lives. I feel I could change the world drastically and invoke some sort of mass epiphany, if only I could rise from this chair and stop twitching me legs and grinding my teeth.
I occasionally look down at my extremities, to find them clutching to chair legs, the desk, and one another. Despite my strange physical state, I feel content. I should join the debate team, for with both my natural ability to rant and the assistance of Adderall, I would be unstoppable. I could see through deceit and know truly what lies behind the eyes of my opponents, and show them the honest content of my head. My friend and I, another forceful orator and madman, just finished a three hour stretch of intense communication, reminiscent of a year ago when we would discuss Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, and girls over shots of rum.
Tonight, he began to feel quite tired very soon, having been on Adderall for the past two days and gone for about forty eight with very little sleep. I, in addition to the drug induced stimulation, slept for about twelve hours today, and am therefore unable to close my eyes, nor do I want to even though I probably should. If I continue on like this, I feel my head will implode and my heart simply stop. This paranoia makes me laugh lightly. Now that I am alone, I seem to think even more clearly. Before, I had two different sets of thought to contend with; mine and my interpretation of my friend's. Now I have only one, my own, and it is taking shape into an elaborate concept, one of insight beyond belief yet structured simply. It is pure; void of language as a descriptive tool.
I just stood up to go to the bathroom, being unable to hold it in anymore. As I began to walk, I notice a slight distortion of my vision accompanied by a tingling sensation in my lower body. I disregarded this as an effect of my dormancy, not the drug. As I looked before me, having gone outside the basement door instead of walking to the bathroom upstairs and risking the possibility of waking my parents, I noticed something extremely odd and extremely exciting. The chair on the patio moved. It bent and twisted as Jell-O would move in slow motion. This is very abnormal, since Adderall is not a hallucinogen and I have never experienced something like this while under it's effects before. It may, of course, be caused by something else. Something like my own, natural insanity. Either way, I enjoyed it very much. The keyboard is moving as well. I think it might be an effect of staring at the computer screen for such a long time.
If I thought the reader cared, I would apologize right now. This piece of writing must seem absurd, because it does not have any chronology of ideas to it. On the surface, these fragmented thoughts appear unrelated. Yet at base, each word is actually representative of a solitary idea. I have given the idea a name, one without words. I would explain it now, but would rather suggest that the Adderall user choose his own name for his own concept, if he should ever encounter it. Speaking of the reader's possibility to use Adderall in the future, I also suggest that you read this sometime when you are high on it yourself. Perhaps then you can use this piece of rambling literature as a guide to my thoughts, and make a little more sense of the theory or concept I have.
I can now feel the haunting flashes of the desolate low that succeeds an Adderall high creeping in on me. The Moody Blues, an orange, and the intricate patterns on my ceiling will aid me in my struggle to avoid or at least ignore the inevitable end of this magnificent string of thought accompanied by elaborate communication, which I have attempted to convey to the reader. I feel hope, anguish, and understanding. The effects of Adderall? Temporary genius. I do not mean intelligence or knowledge or enlightenment, I mean pure genius. My mind is at peak performance. For any user, no matter how strange, irrational, or absurd an idea may seem when sobriety hits, during the high it is perfect. If only the whole world were high on Adderall, then the individual user would not be the only person to recognize the genius.
I want to run through the streets and gather together a crowd of people. And with twitching limbs, a foaming mouth, and rapidly searching eyes, I shall explain to the crowd what existence is. Or perhaps I'll just go and put a few dollars in my friend's wallet and snag another pill…I am rambling, and thus deterring you in your obvious desire. Go now, and acquire some Adderall (no less than thirty milligrams but no more than seventy), and snort it all, beginning what will be the happiest, clearest, most beautiful six or seven hours of your life. I want to write much, much more, and will do so someday. For now, I will let you go, and you may either heed my words or ignore them as the drug induced ranting of another young man with immense aspirations, as well as a very high regard for his own brain.
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