Before you judge all the drug-addled, sorrow-driven, grief-stricken “junkies” out there, let us take a moment to analyze why they have reached the point where they are.
Some of you, most of you rather would say that they’re what society terms as “losers” because they can’t take what life throws at them and require assistance in handling themselves, leading to them experimenting with narcotics and finding a sickening solace in it, completely unjustified and horribly twisted in its conceptions.
You might attribute this to substance abuse considering the fact that they’re dependent on it to get them through the day. It’s either that, or they’re just party-ravers who’re looking for kicks.
But have you ever taken a moment to think why they do what they do? Have you ever taken a moment to think, as to what could have led to this scenery?
Society has pushed them to the limit that they can’t deal with things sober anymore. They’re so tired of being fucked over by whatever happens in their environment that all they seek is an escape from reality. Sobriety feels like a curse. Inebriation is comfort.
And as we proceed, to smoke weed, drink Henny, pop pills, snort lines, inject shit through our veins, we shall brush aside society’s expectations and its menacing presence from our daily lives.
Ignorance is bliss.
The man was frustrated. This world was driving him insane. Seeing no way out, he decided to pay a visit to his friend. The one he would always go to, to share his thoughts and emotions with. To share his joys and sorrows with. He spoke to this friend and hoped that he would understand his problems one last time, as he always had. With a heavy and depressed sigh, he told him his problems in as brief a manner as possible. “Man, I can’t think anymore. It feels like my entire body is turning into lead. I have done nothing but work and solve other people’s problems for the past 5 months. I’m running on empty. I need to get away.” He was drained. Spiritually, emotionally, physically and mentally. The man was so taxed that nothing seemed bright anymore. Everything was monochromatic now. He couldn’t see things the way they were supposed to be. Everything was black and white to his eyes now. He couldn’t ‘see’ anymore. He needed out. He needed an escape, a plight from this world of mortal tortures and where everything was so corrupt it didn’t even make him flinch anymore. His perceptions had changed. He’d experienced everything that he could imagine. Drama, honesty, agony, laughter, bitterness, love, hate and the constant pain of being a disappointment in every aspect of life. His friend, being the last thing that the man had, finally caved in. He saw what this world had done to his friend. He couldn’t imagine anyone going through what he had. He gave it to him. For the sake of his betterment and relaxation. So that he could feel alive again. So that he could see the colors of the world gushing right back into it. He passed him the pouch. The man took the pouch and took out one piece. He placed it under his tongue and waited. He waited till his body was numb and his legs regained sensation. He saw colors. For the first time in 5 months, he saw colors. His mind was relaxed and happy now, his sorrows dissolving into happiness. He felt that bliss he was searching for. Finally, after such a long time, he was flying. He was flying towards the moon, which was painted in the colors of the rainbow. With a smile on his face and tears of joy in his eyes, he took the knife and stabbed his gut, watching his heart bleed and his brain connect to the flow of the universe one last time. He finally had the peace he was looking for. He had reached the moon. He was done with this planet. He had reached his destiny and he never planned on going back. He let out a final sigh and drifted off into a deep sleep which he never wished to wake up from. He was finally free. He had finally found peace.