The Drug Culture

Today I am writing a plea, to the Drug Culture. You know who you are. My plea is one I have thought about for many months. Before you write me off as some fundamentalist trying to beat you with a book, know that I understand. I was a drug addict. More so, I was addicted to a mentality. That mentality, that perspective on life, gave me many things, but it also took many things from me. Was it worth it? Sure why not, all experience adds up, right? Was the decision to stop a wise one, absolutely, and I will tell you why.

A few years ago I was heavily entrenched in the abuse of drugs. I had lots of friends and we would all get together and messed up, drinking, dropping, puffing, and snorting, whatever it took right? At the time the reasoning went something like this: Life is short, I better enjoy it while I can. Live hard, die young, you know? Better to burn out then to fade away. Then something happened, I fell in love. I know what you are thinking, how cliché, but hear me out, I fell in love... with life, with myself. I found myself sober for the first time in months and I couldn't believe how visceral it all was. Just so happens that months of abuse had made me slip up in my understanding of the law and just as this beautiful epiphany had come to me I was arrested and dealt with by the heavy hand of the law.

To many of you who use drugs, the police are the devil himself. How dare they tell you how to live your life, or what to do with your body, and true enough it makes about as much sense as the prohibition on alcohol. But I am not telling a story about the injustice of draconian drug law, I am telling you about my experience. In that moment, hand cuffed and sitting on the floor of my house surrounded by policemen all I could do was smile... and I whispered to them: "Thank you, thank you for bringing this all to an end". You see, what I had not to that point considered was that my father was right, I didn't need drugs, they were bad for me. And worse they kept me tied to people who really weren't there to bring me up, but to keep me down.

Now many years later, I find myself in a life of fulfilling content. It has had it's ups and downs for sure, and every once in a while I have indulged the desire to bury a bad time in a drink, but when I think of all the times I don't remember, or all the occasions when I didn't feel anything at all, man. I would rather feel the pain, the joy, and the experience of it all. Now back then I was surrounded by people encouraging me to keep going, because they wanted to keep going, let the good times never end. What I would have given for someone to come to me face to face and just ask:

"Hey there, as a friend, as a human being, person to person, can I ask you to reconsider? For me? Just stop using, give it a try, it would mean the world to me, because I care about you, and I want to see you care about yourself."

Now my life has a direction, it has a purpose. I am fighting for a revolution in which hangs the future of this Nation and I see all around me people, numbed by the drugs, who see as I do, but are too busy chasing the high to get involved. Too afraid to draw attention to themselves, because of the nature of US Drug Policy. I see my patriots, enslaved to a master so cunning, so creative, that while he cannot keep them blind, he can keep them silent and impotent. If only one person reads this who struggles with drug abuse, even if they do not change, at least I tried by asking. And if that one person lifts the veil and stands up with me, what a revolution this will be.

I have linked the title here to the momozone. Momo has often provided me inspiration and understanding when it comes to difficult times and difficult situation. Hope you enjoy.