Young man disappeared into the machine last morning
His breath shook when powder dissolved into bloodstream
Waves pulse through the body
Minds give way to rituals that divide life from lifelessness
All else fades as the pulse slips away
Come here, said the fly to the spider
I’ve been looking all over for you . . .
Then one day, you look back. You look at all you’ve lost. You see everything you’ve missed. You see all of your downfalls and all of your pains, all of your hardships, and all of your excuses, and they all come down and attribute to this one thing, which no one else understands. No one else gets it.
You just want to feel good, right?
And what could be so wrong about that?
People lose family and friends. They lose jobs and careers. People that were born with it all (regardless to financial status) end up with absolutely nothing and (regardless to race, color, or creed) in the end, we all go into the same sized box. Yet, without regard for the ends, which have no choice but to justify the means, people will always look for that special little “Take-Off” to make them feel better.
The vehicle on how you get there (to euphoria, I mean) is only a vehicle. The reason for the ride however is more important.
Somehow, we have become a society that focuses more on treating symptoms. One could say treating symptoms is more lucrative than say, solving the problem.
Some live their entire life this way.
Some wake up and wonder what happened.
There are those that when faced with the facts of life and the facts of the past; they look back. Most people do.
It’s no secret when you’re lost.
The question to ask is, “Was it all worth it?”
I’ve never met anyone that says yes.
This life you have, which way does it go?
Is this life loyal to you?
Or, are you more loyal to it?
This is the way it is; always taking, always costing something, and always coming up with a different cost at the back end of the aftermath.
There’s a bill that needs to be paid, but don’t worry. Someone is always willing to make a deal. The interest might kill you but hey, a deal, you’re already in this deep so what’s the difference right?
This is how it goes.
There’s nowhere to turn, no one to blame, and there is nothing else but the absence of euphoria in whichever machine you chose to ride.
There’s nothing else but the need to feel that lofty sensation. This is the need to have life subside to bliss. Ecstasy replaces anxiety, even if only for a moment, and just like that, the world is a better place.
It’s only fleeting but at least there is the moment of total stillness. At least there’s a sense of perfect numbness until the high subsides to worry and misery begins its grief.
Why do you do it to yourself?
Ever hear this question?
Ever ask it?
The truth is the answer is often yes to both.
Also, the truth is if there was an answer to the “Why,” I suppose no one would ever find themselves in so deep that a needle would be the only thing that could make things right. (The same could be said for a bottle, or a pill, or the gamble, or sex, or food, or lust and love.)
It’s not like you don’t know what’s happening. It’s not like no one feels bad about the losses or the ruins in the wake of their choices. As odd as it sounds, deep down, it’s not like there’s no regrets. Even serial killers have famously come out and said, “I wish I was different.”
One would think the degradation of shame is enough to make someone stop. One would think the desperateness is enough to have someone walk away for good.
Somehow, the “Need” overcomes the will to stay away. Somehow, the “Need” overtakes the better of our abilities to choose differently because the “Need” is the vehicle and without the “Vehicle,” then how the hell are we ever supposed to feel better?
How do you sleep?
How do you get rid of the anxiety?
What do you do when the pain hits?
How do you stop the monkey in the mind from bouncing from one thought to the next?
“I know how.”
And there’s more to it than this. There is the romance of the ritual. There is the glorification of the actions, which become an entire setup.
Whether the ritual is a trip to the liquor store or if its a trip to the spot to buy a few bags; or whether the ritual is a tiny secret in a little pillbox that no one else knows about and this keeps you company throughout the day, or even if its a fetish you keep to yourself, as if to be a little kinky secret to alleviate the frustration, or even if its an act of some kind, which in all other words is otherwise degrading, but yet, somehow the romance of the routine makes sense. The ritual and acts calm the triggers with a quick reprieve — and hey, at least there’s a reprieve, if only for a moment.
There are these people that turn up their nose or think they’re above this. There are parents that say, “this would never happen in my home!”
I know this because I used to meet them in emergency rooms and comforted them when they’d say things like, “we never thought this would happen to our child.”
There is an idea that addiction only happens in certain worlds. There is an idea that one in a suit and tie and the other on the street have a different connection, which is a lie, by the way.
Years back, I was working at a job and there was money missing. There were checks missing too and other valuables as well.
Of course the top levels looked at the bottom levels, pointing fingers at lower-level employees.
Turns out, the thief was a top-level guy that enjoyed hookers and cocaine. By the way, no apologies were ever offered to us underlings. Everything was just hushed and meant to go away.
There is an attraction to this life that defies all logic. Perhaps, this is why they call it a disease of insanity. And they say insanity is doing something over and over again but expecting different results.
In fairness, there is only one result. It’s not that anyone expects something different. To be honest, this is just wishful thinking because the “Need” and the “Vehicle,” becomes more important than rational behavior.
In my eyes, the devil never comes ugly.
If you ask me, the devil never offers anything.
Instead, his trick is different.
In my eyes, the devil says things like, “This isn’t for you, kid.”
He doesn’t lure you in by offering you something.
No, the devil tells you to stay away to appeal to our curious nature.
I see this no differently from the serpent in the Garden of Eden. This is no different from eating the forbidden fruit and then understanding why it was forbidden in the first place.
So, the story goes, God said don’t eat anything from this tree. This was the Tree of Knowledge.
The serpent comes along and then says, hey, check this out (I’m paraphrasing, of course).
Eve says, I’m not sure this is a good idea.
Serpent says why?
I heard someone tell me I’ll die.
Surely you won’t die just because you touched it, said the serpent (at least not right away).
Adam falls for this too.
And then the knew. They are from the Tree of Knowledge.
Now that they knew, they could never “Not” know again (like I said, I’m not saying this from a bible school class, I’m just making a point).
And you wish you never knew. You wish you never had the compulsion. But it’s too late. You know all too much now. And that’s it. All there is the compulsion to feast on the fruit you knew you shouldn’t have touched in the first place.
Here’s a question:
Do you know what gravity is?
It’s heaviness or weight.
Everyone knows what it feels like to have too much weight on their shoulders.
Imagine the remedy to this. Think about the absence of gravity. Think about the pure feeling of weightlessness and painlessness and the numb sensation when all else is euthanized,
so high . . .
and then you plummet
then the weight comes back (and so does the pain).
This is why the first hit is always free.
This why they offer drink specials.
This is why bottles have cool labels and names like, “Tennessee Whiskey,” or “Southern Comfort.”
This is why people keep coming back for more (to feel comfortable).
Moreover, this is how people lose their innocence and more accurately, this is how Eden lost its fruit.
So don’t be so quick to judge.
Truth is most people have a vehicle of their own, which no one else knows about. Everyone has a vice.
They put it in their pocket (figuratively speaking) like a lucky rabbit’s foot and when the anxiety hits, they reach in to touch it like, “Ahh, there’s my safety net.”
Another person disappeared into machine last morning
Another mark on a statistical chart
Another time the fly went over to the spider and said,
“Hey, where’ve you been?”
I’ve been looking all over for you . . .
PS: If this is haunting to you then I apologize but in fairness, as haunting as this may be and as hard as I try, I wish this would be a strong enough deterrent. The truth is, someone, somewhere, is reading this right now and to them, they find this attractive. To them it makes sense.
Be grateful if you are one of the otherwise.