Memoir , A junkie's tale. Pt. 1: The rise of a dope fiend.

By MarinJoseph 05/27/21
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My war has always been with myself, against myself, break wreck dismember shit over and fuck fuck fuck this whole rotten life and everyone in it. 

Truth is, I am not that person. Ever since I was little I've had one dream, I wanted to be a junkie. What are the motives for such a strange childhood dream I may never know, but at 16, at my very first shot of jagermeister, I've felt 16 years of stress, clenched fists, panic and horror - dissipate into an ocean of serene calm, eternal bliss. I have fallen in love with the kingdom of high, and ever since I've explored it to the core, dived into it's depths, swam in the smelliest slime pools you could imagine, I've seen filthy needles and I've mainlined them in my arms, legs any vein I could find. I insufflated lines of mood-altering materials on toilet covers at the central bus station and in basically every corner I could find shucking and shuffling through skid row, I lived with no limits for 13 long years that began with the drinking of 7 consecutive years of bliss, sadness, pleasure, frustration, shattering, crushing fear fear fear that ate at me when I have found myself alone. Who knows how to be alone ? Who needs to be alone when I have a perscription for 120 ritalin pills which I'd snort between a glass of arak and a seat for a soul talk with the people who constantly surrounded me, Looking for advice from the person who destroys himself the most. Half of them would be washed down the toilet monthly, The comedowns.. Who's gonna tell you about them  ? About wanting to die, not existing, because reality pushes the heart into a particle compressor and there's no escaping it if only I had a gun. We're the best advice givers, you know. Who needs to be alone when you can get in and out of closed psychiatric wards, to get some peace from our vibrating, too-many-for-two-year-old rott world, popping Valiums, forget that I was even ever drinking, I have a PROBLEM ? Ha. Team up with all the schizophrenics because otherwise it's boring, And boring doesn't exist in my lexicon. Who needs to be alone when you can take the bus to the Central, hour and a half drive, swallowing pills on the road and by the way.. Beer in one hand and two in the bag, so I won't get bored.

 

Because there I found the filth that most people look away from, into it I dived head first the first time I saw it, I was enchanted, I didn't see any family friends or a job I could barely keep. This addicting feeling of self destruction, this sense numbing feeling of just come and get some. Come and huff, push and throw up, sink into the waters of the magical river of death. Who needs to be alone when my dealer had a suprise baggie for me ? Sweet candy just for me, come and take 'em, honey. No one tells you of the helplessness, the loneliness, the constant crying and tremor, withdrawal, oh the withdrawal that followed your crazy pursuit of the baggie. As they say, everybody dies alone - a junkie white knuckles the pain of withdrawal alone. The highs can last for years before isolation and loneliness is not gonna seem as such a pleasure anymore, THE DISEASE is no longer your best friend, it betrays you and is filling your bed sheets with ants in the night, so you never sleep, so you never sleep again. Sleep is for the righteous and we have sinned in the worst of crimes. We broke every social convention, we lied, we cheated, we stole, we hurt everyone and everything that was in our way of getting out dose, parents are worried, they dont sleep anymore, maenwhile I laugh, fucking men I hate, pleasures of a king I experienced, deep dives, expending my mind and thinking so clearly that I know it all.

 

I thought I had cracked the secret of life. I was watching other people suffering, having doubts, making decisions.. Never have I thought that I am the one getting left behind, and not them. I thought I had discovered the miracle formula that no one else knows about, the secret of me and my disease, my best friend, the most loyal of them all. With you I lived with no fear because compared to you its foolish, earthly, a child's play. You made everything seem easy, I had answers for everyone and everything and yet something ramed in me, slowly bit by bit, at first with no sense or awereness at all, I had a huge hole open in the middle of my stomach that nothing could fill anymore.

 

So I drank some more. I drank in the morning, noon and evening, I swallowed every pill that was thrown into my mouth in the hopes of forgetting the hole inside me, mainlined sweet heroin into every vein I could find, another bottle, another occuring man, another pill or a stamp or a crystal that dissolved in my glass, only to escape your massed reality, simple, boring people. only to escape every lesson life tried to teach me, what do they know that I don't ? So I visited Arab villages in the middle of the night, where people dont come back, and pushed around my hometown and the police came to search my parents house, no shame, drunk, I laughed at my mother's face.. "They're never gonna find shit. stupid pigs.."

And who's the stupid one now ?

 

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