Crackland is a bad trip in the heart of a making up brain. This trip started out well, a lightning rise, images follow one another, accelerating. A parallel world is created, delirious, absurd and bizarre, a captivating frenzy. Then a vitiated glimmer, memories, a disgusting aftertaste of reality, which sets everything in motion. The forms become blurred. It is the great degeneration. The unconscious, the subconscious attack the soul. Suffering in distress drags it to the depths. From this limbo arises a last distorted echo: Crackland.