Updated: Apr 8
In the words of the almighty…Nicolas Cage. “namaste”. And to quote the lord and saviour himself, “Every great story seems to start with a snake”. Well, I guess that means this one should too. That slithering movement that snakes make as they move across the land. Belly first, then lower limbs follow. The easiest way to describe the movement of a ketamine user attempt at a walk through the club. Too wobbly to walk but not 'wobbly' enough to fall into a hole. That strange in-between of ketta-copia. “Sssss”. That peculiar form of speech spits and slurs its way through a sentence. Incomprehensible to everyone not on that wavelength. Fellow users create a brotherhood like no other. Communication in weird vibrations and body language is not found anywhere else apart from the dance floors of the UK. These strange drugs disrupt your thought trail and physically send your body into complete retardation. With motor skills being stripped to the bare minimum with maximum effort.
Those four psychedelic walls of Cobalt have tones of a crazy nature when you are sober, never mind when the drugs take hold. The mixture of a 2-cb and ketamine is so potent it remodels the entire inside of the club. Transforming. Shaping. Bending as far as the mind is willing to go. The places and faces change beyond belief inside, outside, left, and right. But where does that leave me? In some sort of limbo. There, but not there. Purgatory. Visualizing the music's bass around the room and almost seeing the sound waves with every beat and bass, the room is remodelled and moulded. How powerful can this music be? My mind rushed back to a situation in DC-10 in Ibiza, and the walls almost grew that same red tiling all along all walls, back to Ibiza. This can’t be possible, surely not. Not of all places. These strange walls around me. It felt like I was inside this dreamscape for hours, or was that just my mind racing that fast? An average second was tediously long.
Slowly building my strength back up. Regaining movement. Crawling, pushing myself out of the k hole and back into reality. As much as I wanted to be back in Spain, today wasn’t the day. Come on, snap out of it. Regain control. Like some lucid dream, you keep forgetting you're in. Snapping back into reality after reality, each one further away from the one we all find ourselves in. But the truth could only be a construct of the experiences of our lives. Remodelling the ambitions of our futures, derived from the mistakes of our past. We are all modelled by the past. We have no control over that which controls our lives the most. That deeper state of thought. That is experienced by every user with the capability to do so. Crazily beautiful. Walking the line of insanity. Momentary bliss. Short durational but mementoes in the moment. Out-of-body experiences and chaos in a key. Waking up in each moment with a completely new point of view. Looking through the eye of your mind and falling into its great depth. That feeling of falling washing over your body and like the moment you wake up from a dream, you land in the middle of the dance floor.
Now Cobalt was back in sight. And walls again started forming back into the club it once was. Deeper state of thought. That is experienced by every user with the capability to do so. Crazily beautiful. Walking the line of insanity. Momentary bliss. Short durational but mementoes in the moment. Out-of-body experiences and chaos in a key.
I guess it’s time for another key,
signing off Justified Passion.