Endless-Nameless
Greenlighter
- Joined
- Aug 22, 2015
- Messages
- 1
He hasn't been on the forum in quite some time, so I am unaware how many here recall him.
I'd become a friend of his about late 2012, and we both just so happened to be on this forum, he more than I. (My Prior name was Sick-Boy, I've lost both password for my old account, and the E-Mail connected with it, hence this new account. Made mostly to inform those here of his passing... But I may flitter back and forth from time to time.)
I don't say this about people often, and consider it one of my highest possible complements: King J was a completely unique individual.
That small bit speaks magnitudes, if one perhaps realized all it entails. He was his own personality, he was his own person. All idiosyncrasies built in, likewise, to highlight an individual both completely self-aware, and yet.... filled with an ability to be completely overwhelmed by a form of extreme aggressive intensity to the point control seems lost, but is channeled into curious manners as means of manifesting, and then later rectifying in a way that is again in self-control, displayed in a way that is all the more curious as to how he were to say, repair a period of time after an argument. And then genuinely begin to complement, and offer advice even if not asked for.
He likewise was intelligent, well researched, very much an animal lover, incredibly so...
When I first met him I thought to myself "this is the friend I've wanted for so long, he's fantastic, instant best friend material. A real person that was not contorted into the small paradigm that is the pathetic radius of what most consider human individuality. Here is the real deal."
Unfortunately, our closeness did not completely see things out to the end, we remained friends, but I preferred to spend at least half my life by-myself.
He wanted a 24/7 356 day friendship.
And this could easily cause annoyance that could lead to an outburst of aggression, as if he'd been ignored.
Both physically, and in personality, I often imagined him as Napoleon.
And would state, if indeed reincarnation is the way things work, I could definitely see King J as his eventual reincarnation.
He was... incredibly small, at least to me, being 6'1, there is now possible way he stood above 5'6, and yet he would, with the slightest indignation, scream and yell at drug sets, he'd yell, curse and command, for better or worse.
He would be both brave and bold, be it in the face of danger our bringing danger upon himself...
No matter, we still saw each other. He'd have me over his apartment, we'd Bang up some Dope, talk about subjects most people wouldn't. Scattered about with the more obvious discussion on good Drug sets, best Dope, "if only it were legal."
Here I'd look outside the Window to his Apartment, I loved the view, I'd stare out and feel like I could take on the world, as we'd hatch grandiose schemes that would be far too much to simply take on with our resources, but simply complemented the warm dreaminess of Heroin... As if the act of "pretending" as a kid with the ability to "half believe" was granted again... Here, looking out from a lofty 7 stories, one would see large patches of thick green trenches filled of wooded areas civilization left when first carving the way for this apartment complex... From which a stark contrast in the form of a long black vein leading directly from the apartment's small parking lot. Pumping cars, ever so slowly, up, up, up, an incline, eventually toward an intersection, where each car would follow its pulse outward, into the small outstretching of a Lower-Middle Class Urban display that further and further escapes from a well fortified, harmless Upper-Middle Class Suburban Wasteland... Onward and onward eventually onto a highway, or off toward local supermarkets, business complexes, etc.
In my car we'd generally be driving to pick up more Dope, otherwise coming back to celebrate...
Eventually, though he always wanted me to spend the night, the couch, or even offer his bed and he'd sleep on the couch, he definitely wanted company. And it wouldn't have been Homosexual in the least. But I was one who preferred to return to solitude.
And here I could set the stage for a scattered bunch of times, of other instances, numerous interesting events, that no way could tap the vastness of that to which I was not present....
Here all the more, of empty nights, where King J would look out at times, 7 stories pulling him away from the exit to the world carrying on beneath him.
Here, a little fellow with a big personality, ever wanting someone's company, would stand, looking out at times, wondering a number of things I could likely imagine to some extent....
At times, for certain, feeling, likewise, a bit like Napoleon, without any means but a phone and a computer for conquest.
A License without a Car. Food stamps waiting to be scalped... Constant push and pull to get more money.
And withdrawal, and withdrawal. And no one, and no one.
Family fights over skype and unanswered calls... Myself included likewise in this...
Then rush in Dope, and Highs, and forgotten pain, and a friend over, here, or another pill there, goals completed for a time.
But flashes still, but flashes.
But to pull it back once more, with a truly inspiring view, here King J would look out every night, inside a square room, encased 7 stories away from the outside world, hedged in by a vast slice of green wooded trenches, a long vein that cars slowly pump up, up, up hill, to the intersection, where some 35 miles away, beats the active heart of Camden, where Heroin is plentiful... but money is a must.
Once, no one else by his side, this view itself witnessed a happy young man, preparing himself for no Withdrawal and a strong Heroin high, where a proper vein would be found, then pulled back, pushed in, all the unpleasant feelings gone, warmth, pleasure like no other to be felt... Then onward toward wherever it may be... Somewhere better I hope. Perhaps reincarnation into conquest during the mid 21st century.
For around 10 days prior his death, I had the unusual impulse to call him completely out of the blue to see how he was doing numerous times each day.
I really wish I did... I don't think it would have had a change... But I would have been able to see him again... Have one last solidifying memory.
Though he'd tried it before, I'm on Methadone, and often quite high from it. I'm on 200 mg and mix it with my legal scripts. It's far from the dreamy loveliness of Heroin, much more numb, warm, but not fuzzy. Drunken in an opiate sort of way....
Perhaps he may have considered after seeing me so fucked up off the stuff and would still be here.
The unfortunate bitter irony is, considering we both are quite Drug Savvy, (as in Street Psychiatrists,) King J would tell me the various ways he makes use of to help that he not overdose, informing me in assumption that I would take this information...
I told him flat out, to which he couldn't believe, "I don't want to live, I want to Drop one day, I'm not a lifer, 2-3 more years and I'm out of here."
King J didn't, he wanted to live, he more than wanted to live.
He was the first person that ever mentioned Heroin maintenance, I would say without a doubt, he'd still be here if we had it in the US.
He tried Subs, Methadone, he was on Perks for a Back injury, but it always boiled down to Heroin.
Off balanced though it may be, such is my send off, RIP King J, your death has had an impact on me that is very hard to put into words...
For this, I hope some Justice was done, my friend.
Your friend, Michael.
R.I.P.
I'd become a friend of his about late 2012, and we both just so happened to be on this forum, he more than I. (My Prior name was Sick-Boy, I've lost both password for my old account, and the E-Mail connected with it, hence this new account. Made mostly to inform those here of his passing... But I may flitter back and forth from time to time.)
I don't say this about people often, and consider it one of my highest possible complements: King J was a completely unique individual.
That small bit speaks magnitudes, if one perhaps realized all it entails. He was his own personality, he was his own person. All idiosyncrasies built in, likewise, to highlight an individual both completely self-aware, and yet.... filled with an ability to be completely overwhelmed by a form of extreme aggressive intensity to the point control seems lost, but is channeled into curious manners as means of manifesting, and then later rectifying in a way that is again in self-control, displayed in a way that is all the more curious as to how he were to say, repair a period of time after an argument. And then genuinely begin to complement, and offer advice even if not asked for.
He likewise was intelligent, well researched, very much an animal lover, incredibly so...
When I first met him I thought to myself "this is the friend I've wanted for so long, he's fantastic, instant best friend material. A real person that was not contorted into the small paradigm that is the pathetic radius of what most consider human individuality. Here is the real deal."
Unfortunately, our closeness did not completely see things out to the end, we remained friends, but I preferred to spend at least half my life by-myself.
He wanted a 24/7 356 day friendship.
And this could easily cause annoyance that could lead to an outburst of aggression, as if he'd been ignored.
Both physically, and in personality, I often imagined him as Napoleon.
And would state, if indeed reincarnation is the way things work, I could definitely see King J as his eventual reincarnation.
He was... incredibly small, at least to me, being 6'1, there is now possible way he stood above 5'6, and yet he would, with the slightest indignation, scream and yell at drug sets, he'd yell, curse and command, for better or worse.
He would be both brave and bold, be it in the face of danger our bringing danger upon himself...
No matter, we still saw each other. He'd have me over his apartment, we'd Bang up some Dope, talk about subjects most people wouldn't. Scattered about with the more obvious discussion on good Drug sets, best Dope, "if only it were legal."
Here I'd look outside the Window to his Apartment, I loved the view, I'd stare out and feel like I could take on the world, as we'd hatch grandiose schemes that would be far too much to simply take on with our resources, but simply complemented the warm dreaminess of Heroin... As if the act of "pretending" as a kid with the ability to "half believe" was granted again... Here, looking out from a lofty 7 stories, one would see large patches of thick green trenches filled of wooded areas civilization left when first carving the way for this apartment complex... From which a stark contrast in the form of a long black vein leading directly from the apartment's small parking lot. Pumping cars, ever so slowly, up, up, up, an incline, eventually toward an intersection, where each car would follow its pulse outward, into the small outstretching of a Lower-Middle Class Urban display that further and further escapes from a well fortified, harmless Upper-Middle Class Suburban Wasteland... Onward and onward eventually onto a highway, or off toward local supermarkets, business complexes, etc.
In my car we'd generally be driving to pick up more Dope, otherwise coming back to celebrate...
Eventually, though he always wanted me to spend the night, the couch, or even offer his bed and he'd sleep on the couch, he definitely wanted company. And it wouldn't have been Homosexual in the least. But I was one who preferred to return to solitude.
And here I could set the stage for a scattered bunch of times, of other instances, numerous interesting events, that no way could tap the vastness of that to which I was not present....
Here all the more, of empty nights, where King J would look out at times, 7 stories pulling him away from the exit to the world carrying on beneath him.
Here, a little fellow with a big personality, ever wanting someone's company, would stand, looking out at times, wondering a number of things I could likely imagine to some extent....
At times, for certain, feeling, likewise, a bit like Napoleon, without any means but a phone and a computer for conquest.
A License without a Car. Food stamps waiting to be scalped... Constant push and pull to get more money.
And withdrawal, and withdrawal. And no one, and no one.
Family fights over skype and unanswered calls... Myself included likewise in this...
Then rush in Dope, and Highs, and forgotten pain, and a friend over, here, or another pill there, goals completed for a time.
But flashes still, but flashes.
But to pull it back once more, with a truly inspiring view, here King J would look out every night, inside a square room, encased 7 stories away from the outside world, hedged in by a vast slice of green wooded trenches, a long vein that cars slowly pump up, up, up hill, to the intersection, where some 35 miles away, beats the active heart of Camden, where Heroin is plentiful... but money is a must.
Once, no one else by his side, this view itself witnessed a happy young man, preparing himself for no Withdrawal and a strong Heroin high, where a proper vein would be found, then pulled back, pushed in, all the unpleasant feelings gone, warmth, pleasure like no other to be felt... Then onward toward wherever it may be... Somewhere better I hope. Perhaps reincarnation into conquest during the mid 21st century.
For around 10 days prior his death, I had the unusual impulse to call him completely out of the blue to see how he was doing numerous times each day.
I really wish I did... I don't think it would have had a change... But I would have been able to see him again... Have one last solidifying memory.
Though he'd tried it before, I'm on Methadone, and often quite high from it. I'm on 200 mg and mix it with my legal scripts. It's far from the dreamy loveliness of Heroin, much more numb, warm, but not fuzzy. Drunken in an opiate sort of way....
Perhaps he may have considered after seeing me so fucked up off the stuff and would still be here.
The unfortunate bitter irony is, considering we both are quite Drug Savvy, (as in Street Psychiatrists,) King J would tell me the various ways he makes use of to help that he not overdose, informing me in assumption that I would take this information...
I told him flat out, to which he couldn't believe, "I don't want to live, I want to Drop one day, I'm not a lifer, 2-3 more years and I'm out of here."
King J didn't, he wanted to live, he more than wanted to live.
He was the first person that ever mentioned Heroin maintenance, I would say without a doubt, he'd still be here if we had it in the US.
He tried Subs, Methadone, he was on Perks for a Back injury, but it always boiled down to Heroin.
Off balanced though it may be, such is my send off, RIP King J, your death has had an impact on me that is very hard to put into words...
For this, I hope some Justice was done, my friend.
Your friend, Michael.
R.I.P.
