the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
poison ~ june 13, 2001 - 4:18 p.m. last night I went to santa cruz, and I ran into a couple of sweet brothers I know from moontribe... we talked for a bit about life and internal struggles and the nature of the universe, and then one of them said hey, do you slam dope? wanna come with us? no, huh-uh. and I realized-- is it possible-- that it was the first time in my life someone had invited me to shoot up. when I was a crazy little punk girl, back in milwaukee about a decade ago, heroin was around, but there weren't that many people on the scene who used it, and those that did kept it pretty private. most people knew to stay the fuck away from it. sometime between then and now, it got a whole hell of a lot more accessible and socially acceptable. kids who aren't enjoying life anyway see no good reason not to throw their lives away on that damn drug, to trade their freedom for needle slavery. a LOT of the kids downtown do heroin. it breaks my heart, over and over again. pat is really interested in the chemistry of drugs. he tells me that heroin actually warps your pleasure centers so that nothing but heroin ever quite fits. that's why nothing ever feels as good again once you're hooked on heroin. it's killing the children, poisoning their spirits, making them slaves. it is in the interests of the machine to keep the most beautiful and powerful beings in our society dependent on an evil that kills them from the inside out. I set the two boys on the street up with day old muffins and we talked about addiction, about struggle. one of them looked me in the eye and said yeah, we're both kind of deep in this drug thing-- I don't really know what to do. if only I knew. if only I knew what to do. I sent them on their way with love and blessings, and wandered through borders books, biting back the urge to kick over bookshelves and scream. the children are dying. and I don't know what to do.
(((rings))) |