insanesteveo
03-30-2007, 09:10 PM
this is a little something i wrote right before i quit............
he walked through the sun-drenched kitchen on his way out to the garden. it was the middle of june and the flowers were in full bloom, bursting with multiple shades of red, orange, pink, purple, blue, and white. a dark green from the chlorophyll laden plants made a spectacular backdrop. he slipped off his sandals to feel the warm, soft grass on his feet. this was truly going to be a beautiful day. with a small scalpel in one hand, he walked up to the closest flower. papaver somniferum was the variety, and he knew this plant well. he knew the value and beauty of this thriving "weed". he reached forward to loosely grasp the largest seed pod he could see, and with the precision of a surgeon, made 12 neat incisions around the entire diameter. within seconds the plant was oozing a creamy white latex, which he hurriedly licked up before it oozed to the ground. within seconds a warm rush came over him, and he was overtaken with euphoria. all his troubles melted away, which when you are a self sustaining farmer in the middle of a secluded forest, arent many. he soon fell to the grass with a giant smile encapsulating his face. yes, this was going to be another good day.
he dragged his heavy body to the deck where his coffee and book lay. struggling to keep his head up and his eyes open, he proceeded to get lost in his favorite book, with the sound of birds chirping in the background. this, of course, didnt last, and he was soon sound asleep. he violently awoke, but he wasnt in his favorite chair, and he wasnt happy. it was just another dream, spurred by the withdrawal that was overcoming his body. the aches and pains were the least of his worries right now. he was leaking bodily fluids from every part in his body. his stomach cramped up, and his legs seemed to seizure like flailing tentacles unattached to his own body. the anxiety and severe depression overcame him and thoughts of suicide crept into his mind. these were quickly thrown out, as that was the easy way out. he was a fighter, assured of himself that he can control his addiction.
he soon realized immediate action needed to be taken if he was going to feel better. this wasnt going to fix itself any time soon. he knew what he had to do. he scrambled up some money and went to the store. the last resort of a sick junky, as they have everything you could need to fix withdrawl.
after what seemed like an eternity, he finally arrived at the store and walked through the automatic doors. first the loperamide, a 48 count bottle should be good for now. next some dramamine and robitussin DM. of course something to wash this down, some grapefruit juice and a gallon of vitamin d milk. next the baking aisle and he would have what he needed. about 7 bars of 70% cacao dark chocolate, and as many jars of poppy seeds as he could afford.
after another long drive, he arrived home and went straight to work. chug some grapefruit juice, while throwing in 10 of the loperamide, a couple shots of the robitussin, a couple dramamine, and a bar of chocolate. while that went to work on his damp, shivering body, he started emptying the poppy seeds into a plastic bottle. he figured he got about a pound or so in there. now covered with water and capped, he started the 20 minute shaking festival. friction was going hard at work for him now, thanks mr. smith, the best high school physics teacher ever. after the shaking had ceased, the water was thoroughly strained from the seeds and gulped down.
now the hard part, keeping all this down long enough to kick in. he knew he could do it, he has before, but there is always that slim chance that something will go wrong and everything will be wasted. then he may have to resort to soaking up the rug with a towel and drinking the resulting vile liquid to try to salvage what he can. but no, this wouldnt be one of those times, not after he took that first puff of some hash. that made him feel better, calmer, and most of all, hungry, for he also realized he hadnt eaten in almost 24 hours. too bad he didnt have any food.
within an hour, he was feeling much better, if you could call it that. he had controlled the diarrhea, sweating, nausea, vomiting, and some of the depression and anxiety. those lurked around most of the time anyways, so he could deal with that. the restless legs, constant need to stretch and yawn, and overwhelming craving for his precious opiates he could manage.
time crept. slowly. he had to do something to take his mind off of the drugs. a movie perhaps. no, cant concentrate on a screen. a book maybe. nope, same problem again. a walk is what he needed. nature had always been alluring to him. the beauty of nature is unmatched. simple splendor at the same time as complex minuteness. to fathom even a small percentage of how some of this stuff worked is impossible for him. no, he would rather gaze at the scene in awe, then to meticulously stress over the inner workings of such things. so he started off on his walk.
this was a nice enough neighborhood, no heroin dealers on the corners, unfortunately, he thought. most of the lawns were taken care of, gardens tended, driveways cleaned, cars washed and sparkling, and of course all of them hanging the american flag proudly on their front porches. ha, the patriotism of this country needs to be awakened by a "terrorist" attack. its been 5 years and its already dwindling again. this country is so feeble.
the day was dreary. a brisk 55 degrees and clouds in the entire sky, hanging like a vast grey blanket. he wanted his opiate blanket, it was always warm, soft, and ready to take him to knod land, if he had the drug in his system that is. otherwise, he comes to his present position. feeling like death, would be a good summary.
he didnt stray far from home before he decided to turn around. his legs couldnt take this beating any longer. the walk home was arduous and somehow longer than his trek the opposite way. of course he knew he was out of shape, but the sweat now pouring from his skin proved that. once home the couch provided relief he needed. at least one thing was to be gained from his exercise, his legs were now so tired that he wasnt bothered by the twitching and restlessness anymore. this pain also released natural endorphins allowing him to rest and relax. he grabbed a book and started reading. this was his favorite past time, as he loved the places that books can take you, the way they can alter your thought process, views of the world, and physical surroundings. but alas, this soon brought frustration. loss of concentration was his demon. he had always had this problem since his childhood. when he read he couldnt remember the sentence he had just read, because his mind was wandering on about something else entirely not covered in the book. this was twice as worse when withdrawing.
he started pacing. looking through his phone book on his cell to try to find that elusive hook up he may have overlooked before, or maybe he had met someone a long time ago at a bar and just forgotten his name and been lost in his massive collection of numbers. nothing but the usuals, and they were out last night, what was the use of trying again today this early in the day? that didnt stop him from calling every one of them though. call after call begging for just a percocet, maybe even a vicodin. he prayed they would say they had all the oxycontin he wanted, but suffice to say, it didnt happen. three-fourths of them didnt even answer, not before 4 in the afternoon. the clock mocked him with its flashing 12:00, but he knew it was actually 1:28. dealers dont deal this early.
his mind raced with thoughts of the ghetto and dealers on every corner. guys running up to your car, hands filled with various illegal substances, begging for you take them off your hands at ridiculously low prices, and even offering taste tests if you preferred. he hopped into his car, determined to find the ghetto in his small midwest city. block after block, stop sign after stop sign, red light after red light. his search wasnt going well when he came across the most desolate street he had ever seen. half the houses were boarded up, the others about to fall in on themselves. at least 3 car bodys were lifted on bricks, void of any way to drive them. overgrown lawns and empty lots that looked like tiny forests. it was here, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something that made his heart skip a beat, and his body to be overcome with warmth. it wasnt a man running to his car, arms outstretched. it wasnt someone motioning up to their porch, hoping to get him loaded, in exchange for various amounts of money. it was his dream. it was coming true before his eyes, but were they tricking him, or did his eyes spot the only bit of color on this block? he swerved his car violently, barely missing a light pole as it came to a stop a couple houses away. he casually walked over to the empty lot where he confirmed his suspicions.
he trampled his way through thorns, bushes, vines, and a few trees. he stared in awe at the beautiful red petals, a few were even orange, his favorite color. he wished he had a camera to prove this unbelievable story to his friends. he wasnt much worried about that, more relieved he had his pocket knife on his keychain. he whipped it out and went crazy slashing these beautiful pods. much slower than in this dream, the opium started flowing. as is the way all dreams go compared to reality, there was much less latex oozing out. he had scored 15 pods and barely scraped up a marble sized ball of opium. he was hoping these were potent enough to overcome his tolerance, or at least his withdrawl. the small piece of opium quickly made its way into his stomach and dissolved over the next 5 minutes. twenty minutes later and he could feel the warmth overcoming him. the proverbial blanket was being pulled over his body. he quickly gathered the rest of the unlanced pods and rushed home. he was guaranteed bliss for the next few days. the junky does not have to worry about the every day things when he has his drug of choice. yes, today was going to be a good day.
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and to see how big of a post i can get, hers some pics.....
he walked through the sun-drenched kitchen on his way out to the garden. it was the middle of june and the flowers were in full bloom, bursting with multiple shades of red, orange, pink, purple, blue, and white. a dark green from the chlorophyll laden plants made a spectacular backdrop. he slipped off his sandals to feel the warm, soft grass on his feet. this was truly going to be a beautiful day. with a small scalpel in one hand, he walked up to the closest flower. papaver somniferum was the variety, and he knew this plant well. he knew the value and beauty of this thriving "weed". he reached forward to loosely grasp the largest seed pod he could see, and with the precision of a surgeon, made 12 neat incisions around the entire diameter. within seconds the plant was oozing a creamy white latex, which he hurriedly licked up before it oozed to the ground. within seconds a warm rush came over him, and he was overtaken with euphoria. all his troubles melted away, which when you are a self sustaining farmer in the middle of a secluded forest, arent many. he soon fell to the grass with a giant smile encapsulating his face. yes, this was going to be another good day.
he dragged his heavy body to the deck where his coffee and book lay. struggling to keep his head up and his eyes open, he proceeded to get lost in his favorite book, with the sound of birds chirping in the background. this, of course, didnt last, and he was soon sound asleep. he violently awoke, but he wasnt in his favorite chair, and he wasnt happy. it was just another dream, spurred by the withdrawal that was overcoming his body. the aches and pains were the least of his worries right now. he was leaking bodily fluids from every part in his body. his stomach cramped up, and his legs seemed to seizure like flailing tentacles unattached to his own body. the anxiety and severe depression overcame him and thoughts of suicide crept into his mind. these were quickly thrown out, as that was the easy way out. he was a fighter, assured of himself that he can control his addiction.
he soon realized immediate action needed to be taken if he was going to feel better. this wasnt going to fix itself any time soon. he knew what he had to do. he scrambled up some money and went to the store. the last resort of a sick junky, as they have everything you could need to fix withdrawl.
after what seemed like an eternity, he finally arrived at the store and walked through the automatic doors. first the loperamide, a 48 count bottle should be good for now. next some dramamine and robitussin DM. of course something to wash this down, some grapefruit juice and a gallon of vitamin d milk. next the baking aisle and he would have what he needed. about 7 bars of 70% cacao dark chocolate, and as many jars of poppy seeds as he could afford.
after another long drive, he arrived home and went straight to work. chug some grapefruit juice, while throwing in 10 of the loperamide, a couple shots of the robitussin, a couple dramamine, and a bar of chocolate. while that went to work on his damp, shivering body, he started emptying the poppy seeds into a plastic bottle. he figured he got about a pound or so in there. now covered with water and capped, he started the 20 minute shaking festival. friction was going hard at work for him now, thanks mr. smith, the best high school physics teacher ever. after the shaking had ceased, the water was thoroughly strained from the seeds and gulped down.
now the hard part, keeping all this down long enough to kick in. he knew he could do it, he has before, but there is always that slim chance that something will go wrong and everything will be wasted. then he may have to resort to soaking up the rug with a towel and drinking the resulting vile liquid to try to salvage what he can. but no, this wouldnt be one of those times, not after he took that first puff of some hash. that made him feel better, calmer, and most of all, hungry, for he also realized he hadnt eaten in almost 24 hours. too bad he didnt have any food.
within an hour, he was feeling much better, if you could call it that. he had controlled the diarrhea, sweating, nausea, vomiting, and some of the depression and anxiety. those lurked around most of the time anyways, so he could deal with that. the restless legs, constant need to stretch and yawn, and overwhelming craving for his precious opiates he could manage.
time crept. slowly. he had to do something to take his mind off of the drugs. a movie perhaps. no, cant concentrate on a screen. a book maybe. nope, same problem again. a walk is what he needed. nature had always been alluring to him. the beauty of nature is unmatched. simple splendor at the same time as complex minuteness. to fathom even a small percentage of how some of this stuff worked is impossible for him. no, he would rather gaze at the scene in awe, then to meticulously stress over the inner workings of such things. so he started off on his walk.
this was a nice enough neighborhood, no heroin dealers on the corners, unfortunately, he thought. most of the lawns were taken care of, gardens tended, driveways cleaned, cars washed and sparkling, and of course all of them hanging the american flag proudly on their front porches. ha, the patriotism of this country needs to be awakened by a "terrorist" attack. its been 5 years and its already dwindling again. this country is so feeble.
the day was dreary. a brisk 55 degrees and clouds in the entire sky, hanging like a vast grey blanket. he wanted his opiate blanket, it was always warm, soft, and ready to take him to knod land, if he had the drug in his system that is. otherwise, he comes to his present position. feeling like death, would be a good summary.
he didnt stray far from home before he decided to turn around. his legs couldnt take this beating any longer. the walk home was arduous and somehow longer than his trek the opposite way. of course he knew he was out of shape, but the sweat now pouring from his skin proved that. once home the couch provided relief he needed. at least one thing was to be gained from his exercise, his legs were now so tired that he wasnt bothered by the twitching and restlessness anymore. this pain also released natural endorphins allowing him to rest and relax. he grabbed a book and started reading. this was his favorite past time, as he loved the places that books can take you, the way they can alter your thought process, views of the world, and physical surroundings. but alas, this soon brought frustration. loss of concentration was his demon. he had always had this problem since his childhood. when he read he couldnt remember the sentence he had just read, because his mind was wandering on about something else entirely not covered in the book. this was twice as worse when withdrawing.
he started pacing. looking through his phone book on his cell to try to find that elusive hook up he may have overlooked before, or maybe he had met someone a long time ago at a bar and just forgotten his name and been lost in his massive collection of numbers. nothing but the usuals, and they were out last night, what was the use of trying again today this early in the day? that didnt stop him from calling every one of them though. call after call begging for just a percocet, maybe even a vicodin. he prayed they would say they had all the oxycontin he wanted, but suffice to say, it didnt happen. three-fourths of them didnt even answer, not before 4 in the afternoon. the clock mocked him with its flashing 12:00, but he knew it was actually 1:28. dealers dont deal this early.
his mind raced with thoughts of the ghetto and dealers on every corner. guys running up to your car, hands filled with various illegal substances, begging for you take them off your hands at ridiculously low prices, and even offering taste tests if you preferred. he hopped into his car, determined to find the ghetto in his small midwest city. block after block, stop sign after stop sign, red light after red light. his search wasnt going well when he came across the most desolate street he had ever seen. half the houses were boarded up, the others about to fall in on themselves. at least 3 car bodys were lifted on bricks, void of any way to drive them. overgrown lawns and empty lots that looked like tiny forests. it was here, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something that made his heart skip a beat, and his body to be overcome with warmth. it wasnt a man running to his car, arms outstretched. it wasnt someone motioning up to their porch, hoping to get him loaded, in exchange for various amounts of money. it was his dream. it was coming true before his eyes, but were they tricking him, or did his eyes spot the only bit of color on this block? he swerved his car violently, barely missing a light pole as it came to a stop a couple houses away. he casually walked over to the empty lot where he confirmed his suspicions.
he trampled his way through thorns, bushes, vines, and a few trees. he stared in awe at the beautiful red petals, a few were even orange, his favorite color. he wished he had a camera to prove this unbelievable story to his friends. he wasnt much worried about that, more relieved he had his pocket knife on his keychain. he whipped it out and went crazy slashing these beautiful pods. much slower than in this dream, the opium started flowing. as is the way all dreams go compared to reality, there was much less latex oozing out. he had scored 15 pods and barely scraped up a marble sized ball of opium. he was hoping these were potent enough to overcome his tolerance, or at least his withdrawl. the small piece of opium quickly made its way into his stomach and dissolved over the next 5 minutes. twenty minutes later and he could feel the warmth overcoming him. the proverbial blanket was being pulled over his body. he quickly gathered the rest of the unlanced pods and rushed home. he was guaranteed bliss for the next few days. the junky does not have to worry about the every day things when he has his drug of choice. yes, today was going to be a good day.
__________________________________________________ _____________________________________
and to see how big of a post i can get, hers some pics.....