THE DISSOCIATED GENERATION

"We consume very little. We just do microdoses," said X, as I watched him snort ketamine for the third time. We hadn't even arrived at the party yet. Actually, he was the driver.

It was raining. X and Y had picked me up at Plaza Egaña, just outside the mall. I didn't even know they were soplaos, as they say. The car did have a weird vibe, though. It just took me a while to figure out what was going on.

After watching them snort ketamine, I decided not to make a big deal out of it. I ignored my increasingly stressed brain and asked if I could put on a song. It was "Lamborghini" by NORO$T.

Damn, they got excited when the beat dropped. Y's car had a pretty good sound system, and the bass hit hard. So there we were, speeding down the street in the rain, windows rolled down, bouncing up and down to the music. And the night was just getting started.

What made the situation really disturbing, though, was how X rationalized the whole thing.

"People think it's dangerous to drive while consuming ketamine, but it's actually safer. Everything seems so fast, but you're actually driving at a third of the speed you perceive."

So now he was snorting ketamine to drive slower than usual? It didn't make any sense at all.

Thankfully, we arrived at the party safe and sound. Actually, I went inside before them. X had to find somewhere to park, and I was just too eager to dance. So I got out at the corner and knocked on the club's door.

It was my first time there. The place was a small, black, three-story house on a corner. The first floor had the coat check and the bar. The second floor had the "dancefloor" (basically a tiny living room) and the bathrooms. The third floor was mostly for smoking and chatting.

Oh yeah, one more thing. This club doesn't allow talking or taking pictures or videos on the dancefloor. They even put a sticker over your phone's camera when you enter.

And then X and Y arrived. Lost gazes. Big smiles.

They must be superhuman, because I've seen far worse. Someone fainting in the middle of a dancefloor. Someone else sitting alone in the corner of a room, looking completely lost and troubled. Just this summer, I had to help a girl down the stairs because she could barely walk. I can't know for sure what each of those people had taken, of course. But those scenes have become part of what I associate with nights out.

It all feels so common, though. Some people mix ketamine with alcohol. Others combine ketamine, alcohol, and ecstasy. My heart would probably stop if I did that. I guess you can build up tolerance over time. Taking a drug for the hundredth time probably doesn't feel quite the same as taking it for the first. But does that make it any less dangerous?

I've never tried ketamine (and I don't think I ever will), so it makes me wonder: what's the appeal of it? Consuming it at an electronic music party, I mean.

Ecstasy or M make sense to me, at least from how people describe their experiences. They can intensify your connection with the music. Ecstasy can make you energetic and euphoric. You want to jump around and dance all night. M, in the way people around me talk about it, gets you all moody, puts you in sync with the music, and lets you flow with the tune. Of course, those names can refer to the same substance, MDMA, and what people actually take isn't always what they think they're taking.

But ketamine? From what I've read, it can dissociate you, distancing you from your body and your surroundings. Aren't you essentially pushing yourself away from the very experience you came looking for? Then again, maybe I'm missing something. An altered sense of your body, time, and sound might make music feel more immersive to someone else. I don't know. That's partly why I'm asking.

What makes a rave meaningful to me? Well, it's a mix of things.

I love dancing, but I rarely dance alone in my room. I need to be in the right space. And by space, I don't just mean the physical container, but also the people occupying it. If there are only a few people around, my energy isn't nearly as high as it would be in a bigger crowd. There's something about being part of a larger mass, moving and connecting with it, that makes the experience special to me.

And obviously, I need to vibe with the music. I particularly like venues with multiple little stages (at least two), where you can move around and choose what you want to dance to. Maybe someone else comes looking for a completely different experience. Fair enough. But I still find myself wondering what happens to the collective experience when so much of the night seems to revolve around getting more and more intoxicated.

After the party, X asked me if I wanted to go back to his place with him, Y, and Z to listen to some music.

"Okay," I replied.

I knew I probably shouldn't have, but he was my ride, and I kinda wanted to keep partying.

In the middle of the drive, X asked me another question.

"Yuna, we need to go make a deal at the Pantano. Would you come with us?"

"Okay," I replied. Again.

I didn't really know what else to say. I was already in the car with them.

The Pantano was a neighborhood in La Pintana known as a dangerous place to buy drugs. X, Y, and Z started arguing about who should get out of the car. Funny enough, X and Y had already decided that someone needed to accompany Z. The only question was who.

In the end, X and Y went, while Z and I stayed in the car.

A homeless man started putting on a little show in front of us, juggling a coin or something like that. He also offered us a beer for a couple of bucks.

"They're cold," he said.

It felt like an eternity went by.

Suddenly, X and Y swung open the front doors.

"Go, go, go!" Y shouted.

X put the pedal to the metal, and we were out of there.

"Someone showed us a gun," X said while we were stopped at a red light, looking back at Z and me.

I had no idea what was going on.

"Naaaah," Z replied.

"Some guy lifted his shirt, and he had a gun tucked into his waistband," Y added. "We'd just bought the ketamine when this guy appeared out of nowhere."

"'Hey, guys! What do you have there?' he shouted at us while showing us his gun. We didn't even look at him. We just kept walking in a straight line. And when we turned the corner, I told Y, 'Run!'" X explained.

X and Y seemed frightened, but they just laughed it off. As if they now had a cool story to tell their friends. Judging by their reaction, I had a feeling they'd be back there in a few days. They didn't seem to grasp the gravity of what had just happened.

They could've died.

When we finally arrived at X's house, I stepped in dog shit right after slipping through the gate.

What a fucking night, I thought to myself.

I asked X if I could clean my sneakers with a hose, but he told me to just use an old towel he had lying on the floor.

Inside, Z tried to teach me the basics of DJing while X was figuring out how to "cook" whatever they'd just bought. It was some kind of white powder. I couldn't tell what it was or whether it had been mixed with anything. I don't remember this part very well, but I think he put the powder on a plate, poured some water over it, and started mixing it with a spoon???

Once the "thing" was ready, the guys snorted some of it while I lay on the sofa listening to music. The cushions were swallowing me whole, and I almost fell asleep.

Suddenly, X announced that he had to go out and run some errands. I wanted to say something to him, but I didn't. As soon as he left, I ordered an Uber home.

"Let's hope X didn't lock the gate," Y said.

And, of course, it was locked.

"Sorry, dude. He's got the keys."

The Uber had already arrived, but I had no choice but to cancel it.

I just wanted to lie down in my own bed.

I don't even know how to finish this entry. It just seems like an awful drug. Frequent, heavy ketamine use can seriously damage the bladder and urinary tract, sometimes leading to severe urinary symptoms, including incontinence. Kidney complications and liver problems can occur too. That doesn't mean everyone who uses it will suffer those consequences, but the risks are real.

I've told people around me about these risks multiple times, but I don't think they're listening. Maybe some are already dependent. Maybe others just don't see themselves that way.

I just remembered something Y told me. He said he didn't abuse drugs nearly as much as he used to. His explanation? He used to do falopa (cocaine), which, in his mind, is much worse than ketamine.

Maybe he's right about some risks. I don't know. But how much better can it really be if you're snorting something all day anyway?

I don't want to sound like some moralist telling people what they should or shouldn't put into their bodies. That's not the point. Drugs have been part of electronic music culture for a long time, and pretending otherwise would be ridiculous. I don't think everyone has to enjoy a rave the way I do, either.

But there's something about the way risk gets explained away that bothers me. Everything is a microdose. Everything is under control. Everything could be worse. Even a guy showing you a gun becomes a funny story five minutes later.

And I can't pretend I was outside of it all. I got into the car. I stayed in the car. I said "okay" again and again, even when I wanted to say something else. My reasons weren't the same as theirs, and the risks weren't the same either. But I was making excuses to keep the night going.

I went out because I wanted to dance. Somewhere along the way, I stopped having fun. By the end, I wasn't thinking about the music, the crowd, or the next party. I was thinking about my bed and a locked gate.

I still don't understand the appeal of ketamine at a rave. Maybe I never will. What I understand a little better now is how easily a night can become a series of things nobody really stops to question.

And how hard it can be to say, "No, I'm going home."