Wild Imagination and Dead Memory
Tramadol & Cannabis
Citation: Blazed. "Wild Imagination and Dead Memory: An Experience with Tramadol & Cannabis (exp20048)". Erowid.org. Apr 26, 2005. erowid.org/exp/20048
DOSE: T+ 0:00 |
150 mg | oral | Pharms - Tramadol | (pill / tablet) |
T+ 1:00 | 1 | smoked | Tobacco - Cigarettes | |
T+ 3:00 | 7 hits | smoked | Cannabis | (plant material) |
T+ 0:00 | 1 | smoked | Tobacco - Cigarettes |
BODY WEIGHT: | 173 lb |
12:14 I’m flushing, but I don’t know whether it’s from the pills, or it’s my reaction to drugs (psychological). Nonetheless, I’m not experiencing anything important, so I’ll stand by ‘till the fun begins.
12:49 I noticed slight dizziness. It wasn’t overwhelming, but I could feel it. I couldn’t get words out… my thoughts melted together and broke apart. I couldn’t think the way I wanted to. I wasn’t as sharp as I wanted to be. I couldn’t control my thought-to-word processing mechanisms.
12:59 Walking is becoming problematic. It’s not like I can’t keep balance, but it seems as if I can’t maintain a proper forward/backward posture while moving forward, so this disturbs the experience of walking. I don’t think it was tunnel vision, but is seemed like it as I walked down to the basement through a narrower hallway.
1:01 Thinking is becoming problematic. Things are getting interesting. Let’s celebrate with a cigarette (nicotine).
1:06 I’m beginning to understand another effect of this drug… I’m more likely to be agitated. Where is the loathing coming from? I know that’s it’s coming from the inside, but what’s causing it? I’m more relaxed, so it doesn’t make any sense. It seems to be tinkering with my mood like a dose of Percocet.
Walked away from the computer to smoke a cig outside. Around 1:10, I realized that my memory was clouded. Nothing major, just a nuisance when I wanted to remember something that happened 20 minutes ago.
Once I lit up the cig, I was happy to find out that the taste of the tobacco remained the same, seeing as how hydrocodone and oxycodone tend to lessen the flavor and enjoyment of the cancer stick chemicals. [1:17, I stared off into space and enjoyed it for the first time.] 1:18, my imagination has begun to spin and wonder around, which makes me believe that this would be a good drug to visit the museum on… of course, it wouldn’t compare to what LSD would do in that setting.
In fact, tramadol has actually made the cigs taste better. Either that or I simply enjoyed standing outside in the cold alone because that was entertaining enough. Now that I think about it, I really didn’t want to walk back inside. I was having a good time looking into the darkness of the night.
This is a good drug. What makes it really good is the fact that the imagination gets to “run wild,” while I'm in a physically serene state and weaker (more like can’t get the jar open, not sleepy) condition. Even if the imagination comes down to a lower level temporarily due to factors which contribute to involving entertainment like music (I move to it... I feel the beat, the flow, the art pounding on my eardrums), it’s still a pleasant experience.
2:20 I feel like I’m wasting the experience by sitting and listening to music. I’d rather do something… I think I’d do 250mg next time. This (150) is still nothing of a dose. It’s a lot better than the 50, but also could be a lot better… weed seems to improve every drug… hint, hint.
3:05 TOS (Time of smoke)
(The next of this report was typed the day after from the notes I took while being under the influence. I wasn’t able to write much more after smoking the weed. I’ll mark the end of this sober writing by “/End.”)
I took about 7 hits (I don’t know for sure, I was too fucked up to remember what was going on… it is probably very close to that number)… each hit significantly increased my tramadol high, which took me by surprise. It was like I didn’t have any tolerance for weed all of a sudden. I felt like if I had taken more hits, I’d shut down all of my mental functions; the experience would be ruined because I would end up coming back inside the house, and I’d go right to sleep. (The taste and smell of the weed, which was very strong, reminded me of the high-quality weed I have smoked in the past. It was a nice moment of déjà vu.)
Once I got high, I realized that I wasn’t thinking more/faster. I wrote, “Same level of thought processes, but the mind works to grasp the speed of thoughts at a slower level. You can’t grab and hold on to too much at all.” My imagination seemed to have elevated as well, but it only seemed like that to me because I was dumbed down by the painkillers. All in all, it seemed that my mind was working like I was sober, but my brain wasn’t recording everything into memory.
After the few hits from the bowl, I smoked a cigarette and continued to stand outside. At one point, dizziness kicked in for a total of one second. It looked like a visual rotation to the left, like I was on a boat on water.
This is one of the most beautiful mental conditions I ever went through. It doesn’t beat x, but it comes very, very, very close.
My thoughts continued to be bungled up and mixed like something in a blender.
Ages seemed like seconds. Time for me has reminded the same, while earth time sped up (that’s what it felt like). This goes back to what I said about my memory. It became dead, so I started living in the moment (like a fish). Whatever I was doing seemed like I have been doing for a very long time; however at the same time, earth time was passing by me very quickly. I wrote, “More is happening around me than I can understand.”
Past that, I let my mind wonder… and I started to think about cigarettes, since I was smoking at the time. I thought about how I quit twice in the past, but I continue to smoke still. I came to a conclusion… “I love smoking cigarettes. That’s the problem with the addiction. How can you deny love knowing that it’s legal and comes in a pack of 20?”
“I can’t remember. I’m numb to the cold of the glass on a cold winter night. Unspeakable joy (not love) and inner excitement.” (Obviously, I couldn’t physically express it. I could hardly move.) That’s the opposite of x. I feel love, and I'm able to express it. Still, I’d compare tramadol in combination with weed to it. It’s on par with that great feeling.
I feel more fucked up outside than when I’m inside. Inside, being the familiar environment where I swallow most of my pills and sniff most of my powders, I seem to have a higher tolerance, so I’m better able to deal with the drug effects.
Once I walked back inside, I experienced extreme at times dizziness, which in turn made me nauseous, as did the warmness from the heater. Apparently, the temperature change from the cold to the warm was too great to deal with; hence, the nausea was heightened enough for me to be uncomfortable.
“Disorientation. Imagination: crazy. I can’t stop writing. I’m out of control. My heart is racing, but I feel like passing out. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to, so I’ll keep writing. This type of writing is like freestyle. Things keep popping in, so I write them. Haha I’m loving it. I love this.”
Music, any kind, was beautiful. “Beautiful” is a strong and all-encompassing general beauty (internal + external + spiritual), and I’m using it to describe the high and the music. X is beautiful too, but it’s a different kind of beauty. It’s like picking which parent you love more. (If you’re thinking which parent you’d compare these two drugs to, x would be the mom and tramadol would be the dad.)
“I’m physically dead, but my imagination is breaking barriers of light.”
/End.
3:49 My eyes keep crossing if I stop moving them. Memory: dead. Inside: dead. Dead. Dead. I’m not numb like last time, but
[I actually didn’t get to finish what I meant to type here. It’s obvious that I was too messed up.]
3:55 “Numbness” kicked in for a good few seconds… maybe 10-15. I enjoyed it. My legs felt like the conscious ability of “cutting off” was occurring without my intervention. (I chose to use “cutting off” to describe the ability that is most consciously noticeable and controllable in bed at night when I am falling asleep. I realize I can force a muscle reaction that makes me feel like my blood is rushing up my legs, because I've cut off circulation… like I'm making my legs numb from my knee to my feet, which could possibly tingle if I hold the muscle squeeze for a longer period of time.)
4:03 My body (skin) is itching, and scratching feels nice as well (hell).
4:25 I’d say that weed is an enhancer, if ever asked whether weed is a drug or an herb. If asked whether I was a crackhead, I'd say, 'I'm a drug-head... name a drug, and I'd do it. I don’t limit myself to crack.'
4:40 The last cigarette I smoked brought back some dizziness, slight nausea; and finally, imbalance hit. Now I feel like I need to pass out. It’s that time. I’m so fucked up that staying awake is a challenge; so therefore, it’s unnecessary and unpleasant.
4:50
With love,
Blazed.
Exp Year: 2002 | ExpID: 20048 |
Gender: Male | |
Age at time of experience: Not Given | |
Published: Apr 26, 2005 | Views: 77,596 |
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Pharms - Tramadol (149) : Combinations (3), Alone (16) |
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