Citation: Blazed. "Quaaland: An Experience with Methaqualone (exp23677)". Erowid.org. May 15, 2003. erowid.org/exp/23677
FEW QUICK NOTES
Iíve noticed the last time I submitted a report for Quaaludes that I was only the second submitter. I wanted to change that. There arenít enough reports on methaqualone. Especially, there arenít any reports for methaqualone alone [INTRODUCTION + PART 1].
I came back home from college, and I was feeling good about being back. I had 2 finals earlier in the day, so I wanted to relax at home. I didnít prepare for the experience at all, except I put out a piece of paper and a pencil on my desk to start writing. The  marks indicate what Iíve added to the report after Iíve awoken from the dream (came out of Quaaland).
I understand that it isnít as common as your house fly, but itís around. Canada has it. Other countries have it too. If itís still being made, someone can bring it into the United States. Iím talking about methaqualone (Quaaludes).
As I remember from all of my past experiences, I passed out. This is one of those drugs that knocks me out, and I donít get to enjoy your experience. HOWEVER, itís like acid, in that I always have an interesting story to tell. Just the mention of ďQuaaludeĒ, and I've got the attention of the room. Itís something people donít hear much about, but itís not as if itís a substance thatís awaiting its rediscovery.
To Room: Quaaland [and beyond]
From Room: Sober City
12:22_A minor ache has been accentuated [manifested] within my brainial cavity [brain]. My heart has also begun to battle for its own attention. A noticeable skip in my palpitation, and Iíve dropped. As I continue to descend, the external environment is dying out. My system is shutting down, which is causing an experience of becoming a dream. I am a dream, and the events that are about to follow this introduction shall be considered ďpurelyĒ driven by imagination. [Quaaludes put me in a state of extreme sleepiness; therefore, everything seemed like I dreamed it the next day. (Thatís why Iíve decided to write this report while under the influence.)]
DO NOT think you understand my dream. I continue with my memory. I am aware of who I am. This causes my concern to unfold, and my worry to elevate. My dream is real. However, I refuse to believe that I will finish these words while managing a hold over my controlled processes. Sooner or later, Iíll be forced to let go.
12:41_My scalp has begun to tingle ever so innocently. Still insignificant at this point, I divert my attention to something that would [hold my] interest upon my awakening. What could that be? Certainly not tingles.
12:50_Nicodevil. Cancer pal. The death stick. [Cigarette.]
1:42_The past hour can be illustrated with an explanation of further plummet. As the digital clock counts down to my demise, I progress into the negative state of conscious[ness]. Tiredness and fatigue continue to manifest within my being, as I fall deeper into nothingness. The indicator of primacy was the strong inclination to close my eyes [and the burning pain in the eyes associated with the pain of waking up from a night of sleep with contact lenses in]. As I lied down to relax, my body tended towards the point of death [(figuratively speaking)]. Standing back up became problematic due to the body weight increase [brought on my the loss of muscle strength]. In addition to the effect of drowsiness, Iím losing focus, memory, and jogging along the path towards sleep deprivation [(feeling that I havenít slept in days)]. Whatís next? A possible strong desire to drop to the floor and bring about my own existence to a stand still [sleep]? [Thatís what happened the last time I took 2 Quaalude pills at once.]
2:30_Car. Demontine, suffocation by tar [cigarette]. Wawa. Classic turkey BLT.
Once I got up (2:07), I could not maintain my balance. I hope I hold enough power to accomplish my goals. Why am I making this (disastrous) decision? My fears have dissolved into the unconscious. I am not fully aware of my current state.
DOWNERS. Youíre rushed to the ground, and you donít have enough of what you need to bounce back. Hopefully, the tobacco chemicals cancel out some of my imbalance and partial deadness.
[On my way into Wawa, I realized that I couldnít walk straight. I was swaying back and forth, left to right, like I was drunk as fuck. Although, people wouldnít make that assumption. They would rather assume that I was under the influence of drugs, seeing as how my other characteristics didnít hint at the fact that I was drunk, nor high on weed. My face was straight. My eyes were open. The only other difference that I myself have noticed, besides the imbalance effect, was that my voice has been suppressed. When I approached the counter, I could barely even hear myself say ďhiĒ. Before I walked away, he asked me if the drink on the counter was mine. At that point, I got the chance to experience firsthand that I was capable of understanding other human beings. What also fascinated me was that I was able to reason a response automatically, and I answered ďnoĒ. Afterwards, I got into my car. Before I drove away, I lit up another cigette and took a moment to enjoy the relaxed state I was in.]
3:00_I opened a bottle of Carib Lager. Plan 2: down it, and then go outside for a cig and a piss. Then itís back inside to catch the rest of SNL and snack on a Butterfinger. [I could reason at the time that I wouldnít be able to do much after I downed the beer, so I didnít make too many plans for afterwards.]
Objective: get more fucked up and drop down further below Quaaland [not satisfied with methaqualone alone in my system because itís not euphoric.]
3:32_[I came to a conclusion:] popping a Quaalude + waiting over 2 hours + drinking a beer = F UC KK E D U P. The Quaalude is a cemetery, and Iím a tombstone. [Meaning, if I got lost in a forest, Iíd walk around the same tree for a few minutes and then pass out onto an anthill. Meaning, Quaaludes are capable of leading you to do some of the stupidest shit you could never imagine yourself doing.]
I cannot keep balance. I cannot keep consciousness. I will now [under drug-induced obligation] fulfill the rest of my necessary storyline.
I think I may have lost reasoning. I am death. Hear me snore.
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