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UPDATE: four moar foar yaRZ

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i just recently discovered this band Black Moth Super Rainbow and was watching the sun lips video. at first didnt quite get the video but at the vary end i almost cried those men in the video are heroes not many people give proper respect to animals. and ive always felt bad everytime i see roadkill. if you like strange music look it up.

a rule of thumb for acid at least for me dont try to think too hard its bad. also just wanted to show off first tattoo cant wait to get more such a fun feeling.

i remembered something my old neighbor told me once. in that single statement i realized more than i ever did reading an entire book or hearing many lectures. i was mowing my lawn at my old house on a hot summer day took a short break and saw my neighbor signaling to me, so i ran over to his house and we stood by the shed smokin a joint when he says to me "you know funny thing ive been cuttin the grass for over 40 years and its still growin" it was insignificant at the time but now that statement is like a beutifully written poem to which i could only one day hope to equal. it brings into perspective my own mortality but also a strange sense of the future. like far after im gone there will still be grass to mow, people will still have issues and the earth will continue to spin.

i woke up and walked outside today delighted to notice it was cooler today and the scent of bonfires and autumn filled the air. im so glad fall is here there is something almost magic about that smell and the feeling it inspires in me. it whisks me away from everything all troubles and cares fall to the wayside and im filled with an indescribable feeling of joy i wish it were like this always.

so my best friend is gone. she was gonna call 911 on me because she was scared of me.

she doesnt get it. my job is to protect canadians, not gun them down in a hail of 10mm auto fire.

so yeah, i cant even speak to her.

fml

“FUCCCCCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK” was all I could think. They had just cleaned me out of my entire stash that took weeks to acquire! A drug collector, a drug addict, a drug aficionado, a connoisseur of fine substances….yes I am all of these things. But I’m not a fucking drug dealer!!! These thoughts flew through my head in a split second while I collected myself. I was so shocked, so frustrated and completely at a loss for words. The only words that could come to mind was the smartest thing I have EVER told a police officer. I was still riding the acting vibe. My palms facing the officers, a look of curiosity on my face, my shoulders raised in a “huh” fashion. I calmly respond: “I don’t know” with all the honesty in my heart. I literally pretended I had no clue what it was, it must be my ex girlfriends I thought in my head. I tried my hardest to not even pay attention to it, the police look for signs of stress so I tried my hardest to pretend that the jar didn’t matter a bit to me. After giving me his card and telling me to call him tomorrow the officers left.

Bewildered, confused, pissed off. Words cannot explain how I felt in that moment. At that time in my life drugs were my entire existence. I had just lost my entire world. But miraculously somehow didn’t get go to jail. I stumble back upstairs for a cigarette and out of curiosity I walk into the bathroom and check under the sink. And at that moment the Gods smiled on me. Staring back at me were two full jars of beautiful sunset yellow DMT crystals. Out of everything they took, they left 7 grams of DMT. It was in a hand blown glass jar, what else goes in hand blown glass jars? How stupid are these drug task force detectives?!?!?!!!

To this day I still believe the DMT spirits were on my side. They were probably stoked that because of my ingenuity and determination, I helped turn on several dozen college students to the world of DMT. People who may have never had the chance to do DMT had the chance to slip into another dimension because of my work. And I either gave it away or sold it at a price to cover my costs and no more. My work might have even sparked some others to extract their own DMT which in turn would have turned on even more people. Because of this I believe the DMT spirits smiled on me that day.

(part 2 “Get ready to snitch boy” coming later)…time for a cig. I know it’s a long read, but I had to share it. Fucking 7 grams of DMT…they took everything else but left 7 GRAMS. It still makes me happy even though the deemz were smoked months ago. I can’t believe it, it’s the closest thing to a miracle I’ve ever experienced and really made me question my agnosticism.

The days that followed the bust were hell. I wan anxiety ridden and believed everywhere I went I was being followed and rightfully so. I noticed the amount of police and sheriff cars that drove past the apartment complex increased quite a bit. It became the usual to see them drive by real slow or stop in front of building, sit there for a minute and drive away. Something they never did before. I figured it was only a matter of time before the detectives read my DMT journal and realized what I was up to. I believed it was only a matter of time before they tested the DMT laced cannabis, only a matter of time before they made the connection with the hundreds of empty gel caps and digital scale. I was royally fucked. I was assuming multiple years in prison. Not jail. Prison. This is where snitching almost seemed like a good idea but there were some major hang ups. All I could think about was the terror these officers put me through and the possibility that I could do that to someone else at my choosing. It felt awful. I couldn’t do that to someone. I couldn’t do it to someone I hated. All I could think about was destroying someone’s life at my discretion, it felt SO wrong. I hated what “john” did to me and I couldn’t do it to someone else. At the same time I potentially had some major charges facing me.

The detective called me the next day and asked me to make a buy from one of my dealers. Which really had me twisted, this was a small town and the ‘dealers’ were small time guys who just did favors for each other. There were no nefarious, criminal minded ‘dope peddlers’ hiding in the shadows, just other college students who helped each other out on occasion. On top of that I had just moved to this small college town a year earlier and all my ‘dealers’ were also close friends. As a matter of fact they were my only friends. I told the officer I was working on making a buy.

This continued for several days, each day coincidentally I either had work or class or my ‘dealers’ were out or had to work. And the way the officers wanted me to snitch was fucked up. They wanted the buys to happen in public, 2 times. Well everyone I dealt with sold either in their home or mine. So it’s pretty fishy to suddenly change the way you buy or sell, or demand the dealer change their MO. I told the cops my dealers were small time and busting them wouldn’t get them anywhere, I said I’d go to the bars and look for dealers there. I never went to the bars looking to buy, this was a total ploy on my part to buy time and it worked. The detective called less often and less often. The last time they called me I told them I was clean and I’m not using anymore but eventually someone would call me looking to sell and I’d inform them when this happened.

Around this time I got a lawyer. The day of the bust I went to lawyer and he was worthless. The wrinkled old douche bag told me that I either snitch or have a felony on my record forever. About a month later I had enough money for a retainer and I found a great lawyer. The second lawyer I talked to specialized in drug cases and told me I could either snitch or plead down to misdemeanors. Now I no longer talk to the detectives, my lawyer called them and told them where I stand. The detectives never called my lawyer back. Luckily (luckily is an understatement) the search on my apartment was illegal, they wouldn’t let me call a lawyer and the drug I was selling was hardly recreational and I sold it under the pretense that it was only to help people with withdrawal. Not that the police care why you sold it, but it would look better to a jury/judge than selling another drug that had no legit (or semi-legit) purpose. After I lawyer-ed up the detectives never called me or my lawyer. It’s been over 6 months since this incident, my lawyer said if they didn’t do anything by fall or winter chances are they wouldn’t do anything.

I ended up with some serious luck (or help from the DMT spirits). I learned that I was the first person snitched on by “john”. I was basically used as a tester so that the cops could learn to trust this informant. I also happened to get busted while the drug task force was switching their ranks; one of the detectives was the old head of the department and the other was the new head. Apparently I was a learning bust for the new detective too. On top of that I believe the economic situation made busting me and going through a long drawn out trial for misdemeanors wouldn’t make sense to an already over stressed court system. And this drug task force covered about 1/5 of the state, obviously I wasn’t a very high priority. If they had a search warrant it would have been a completely different story.

Looks like I'll be going back to school in January. I'm super excited to get my life back on track!

Hey Everyone,

So, another month gone, and time again to choose a theme. Keeping with the same procedure as before (open to suggestions of any sort by the way, just PM ocean or myself) we'll open the floor to suggestions for new topics for a couple of days before voting.

So far the list is:

• Colo(u)r
• Travel
• Happiness
• Life
• Survival

Any other suggested topics mentioned will be added to the list, within reason of course.

Thanks!

Edit-- Forgot to say: voting will begin on Sunday.

what is the word for that feeling when you stare into the setting sun and are reminded of the simpler days, friends you've lost and good times long since past. whatever the word is it hurts deeper than any physical pain. still its beutiful just like a peice of art and it makes me wonder if anyone is watching recording these events. not because i regret but its because this is far too amazing to miss and when the sun burns out i really want something to at least learn from us whether its god or an alien species something can be learned by all this.

some pixxors from the full moon party we had down at the beaches in glyfada iirc

Wow, so after getting paid today, I had $180 which of course I have to spend on some party favors for myself...nothing wrong with that. I had already been smoking pot for the past week and still had some left so I figured that could wait. Smack, yeah I'll get some even though I got to wait a little while till the suboxone wares off. But remember, this is the most money I have had in months and I wanted to get something that I don't get to do all that often. Strangely I had my mind set on Amphetamines even though I never cared much for the high, it was a rush but the feeling of tweaking wasn't exactly my favorite. Not to mention I felt guilty, I don't know how to explain it but heroin...yeah I've had this problem around a year now but I need to work on getting clean so I shouldn't even let myself do other drugs during the process because I could develop another addiction. Making my addiction harder to kick. Wouldn't you agree?

I went downtown and grabbed some rigs before calling homie. When I talked to him he wasn't far away and had just called which meant I could make it to him in time and wouldn't have to wait till later. When I met up with him he was only able to get two things, Black and White. I ordered one white and one black, my heart pounded waiting for him to return to my car. I hadn't done blow for so long, I had never injected it either so it was going to be a first. Thirty minutes passed. He finally came to my car and I drove him and his friend a few blocks down to an apartment.

I was so excited that I couldn't even wait after I dropped them off. Right away I went into a nearby parking lot I knew was safe...besides I had a few hours to kill before getting my cousin from work. I got my shot ready and slammed it. I was so used to the instant gratification of H that when i did the shot I thought "what the fuck" I didn't feel a thing then a few seconds later I felt my mouth go numb and tasted the bitter drug I had just injected. My body went into a complete high, I felt so good...this was the best feeling ever.

After I enjoyed the rush I started thinking of who i could hang out with downtown so I'm close to my cousin when she gets off work and I don't waste gas. I called up an old friend Baby Blue and Minor, I invited them to come smoke some pot and Minor said she would. When I went to get her I also ran into Ashley so I had to invite her along. We went to a section 8 housing community parking lot that I had smoked in many times before. After blazing and catching up I met up with Alyssa who was only a few blocks away. We went to a bar and had some drinks then left. When I went to pick up my cousin I fucking hit another car but was lucky there was no damage to either car. My cousin invited me to go hang out with them and some other friends and I figured why not. We drove around to a park and smoked a blunt...then drove around some more. It got boring real quick so we decided to all go home where I finished what was left of my white from tonight.

Now I just did some junk and am trying to think of what to do for the rest of the night. Not all that tired.

so i love this forum its the closest thing ive ever found to people that actually relate to me, emotionally and mentally. seriously i had seriously lost hope im humanity i was so angry that everyone around me was dumb as all hell. not trying to offend but i needed mental stimulation. i know i am not vary smart but im learning its just without people who know more than me i dont feel motivated to better my mind. just wanted to say i love this site because its a culmination of mostly open minded people willing to give and take advice. still a couple morons but significantly lower ratio.

i i need to get moving or i might be stuck in this state forever im slowly getting control but everytime i think it down to a science i lose everything. i just want to be who i am in front of everyone with no mask between us, but the problem is when i gaze into the rain i can see only myself standing there alone and when the people return i lose all confidence in the words i held so truthfully before.

Still no word from friendly, I haven't talked to him since I was trying to detox at my mothers house a little over a month ago. He had called me in the middle of the night to hang out but of course I couldn't just walk out of my mother's house and come back under the influence of drugs (which would have been exactly what happened). The next day I was hoping he would call because his phone got shut off but I haven't heard from him since then. Then, last week me and some other junkies were getting high in my car when one of my homeboys asked if anyone had heard from him. I said that I hadn't heard from him then he said that last he heard he was dead...and that the last time he talked to him it was in the middle of the night and he was rambling some shit about space ships or some shit like that. I know he was doing a lot of speed when he got back to Denver so I assume he was really spun out, that or he was doing crack. Every time I used crack with him he always never made since so that could be a possibility.

I personally didn't want to believe he was dead but sadly me and Jason were talking about him recently too and he said that the people where he picks up his prescriptions (which is the same place Friendly goes) said that he was dead also. That being said I really don't know how I feel anymore about this whole thing. Friendly was the guy who I first did Heroin, Crack and Methamphetamine with. Shit, he was my gateway into the world of hard drugs. I'm not sure how to describe it, but it just hurts me to think he is gone. I may have not kicked with the guy much when he got back but that is because he got us into situations which were bad and I didn't want to turn up dead in a dumpster which is where I would have ended up if I didn't at the very least take a break from hanging out with him. I mean really now, the first day we hang out when he got back he managed to get both of us held up at gunpoint.

I just hope he turns up or calls me someday soon, or dare I say it, get confirmation that he is dead so I know what happened. The kid was like a brother to me. Homeless or not, our relationship went more then skin deep...literally.

So...after a minor battle with the team at QEII - which went really well...on some Seroquel at night and ativan as well before sleep. mucho gracias signor.

if anyone can properly pronounce the off label name for Seroquel Ill send you 20$ US. haha

Moving sucks. Job Sucks. At least there's big pharma yay!

[This is my first blog post. It's super long, but it's a awesome story and it's 100% true. This happened in February 09. I hope you enjoy]

This morning I received a voicemail from an old friend. It was good news, she found out who snitched on me; her friend had gotten busted after selling to them too. After 7 months of stress, dropping out of school, moving 800 miles away and finally figuring out the circumstances of being snitched on, I finally feel safe enough to tell my story.

I was broke. My relationship of 2 years with my girlfriend was over, my dad had died a year before that and I was alone, addicted to opiates again and bitter and depressed. I was going to university 15 hours a week and working 20-30 hours at a restaurant. I had recently been over prescribed suboxone, I say over prescribed because my doctor kept pushing more on me and my insurance charged the same whether I got it filled for 30 pills or 120. Eventually I was scripted 24mgs a day and took about 4mgs a day. So I'd sell a couple suboxone to my friends who had helped me out in a pinch. Although opiates were popular in this town, there was never enough to go around and I felt compelled to help out my dopesick friends who had helped me out in the past. As the months passed the money got the better of me and if I needed money to cover some bills, or to get drunk I'd sell to people I didn't really know. Well I only sold to 2 people who were 'friends' of friends. I couldn’t help it, very low supply and very high demand and I was a dope fiend stuck in the middle.

(The day of the bust)
I woke up groggy, not looking forward to my day of classes followed by 6-7 hours of slaving away in the restaurant. I started my morning with a dark brown tasty glass of poppy pod tea. Although I wasn't using heavily, I had been chipping when the mood struck me. I was still coping with breaking up with my girlfriend and my dad's death I told myself. Subsequently my dad's death provided me a small chunk of money to indulge in all the substances I desired which only furthered my anxiety and depression. I was barely alive; I was more a drug taking machine than a person. Using anything I could find to drown out my emotions, looking back I was hardly conscious of anything.

My dogs got me out of bed with wet morning breath doggy kisses all over my face and after several dozen I gave in to their pleas for attention. They were whining and crying like they usually do in the morning. It wasn't an annoying plea for help, if you knew these dogs you'd know it's impossible not to love them, it was more a "pllllllllease take me outside daddy" type of whine. I smoked a cigarette and after some doom and gloom morning news I said “ok ok already lets go outside”. The dogs were ecstatic as usual. The frantically raced around the living room and nervously fidgeted while I tried to put their leashes on. Scrappy pawed at the door. And like I did for the past 2 years, I turned the door handle and let my dogs out.

It was February and the crisp cold air hit me as so as the door cracked. I had grown so familiar with this routine that I hardly put any thought into it, much like my life at that time. I had yet to close the door behind me when I noticed two six foot tall 200 lb men in shiny leather jackets and dress pants approaching my apartment. Weird I thought, they don’t look like friends of my neighbors. Before I had time to feel uneasy, they approached me. Not like you’d approach a friend, more like how you’d approach someone you were trying to intimidate. Like a pair of school yard bullies trying to work me over for my milk money they asked “Are you Dankstersauce?”, “Dankerstauce who was on probation in Monroe County?” I slightly felt at ease, I had faked my way through 3 years probation with monthly email check-ins and stopping by when I had the time. But I had completed probation, I was a free man. I thought this simply was a mix up. They moved in closer and told me to put my hands on the outside of the apartment building. After frisking me down, they said “get your fucking dogs inside.” I was dumb founded, still half awake, half alive and trying to figure out what these police officers wanted.
This all happened so fast I had never shut the front door and as I turned to take my dogs inside, one of the detectives stood in the doorway. In a very nonchalant way he asked if “You mind us looking around?” I replied “NO, I don’t consent to any searches.” I undo the dog’s leashes and as I look back up I see both detectives are now closer. The one in the doorway is now inside my apartment and his goon is now in the doorway. They badger me with the usual “Well you must have something to hide” shtick. I tell them “No. It’s my constitutional right; I don’t have to let you in.” Police must really hate the constitution because he leaned in and nearly shouted “I got your dope! I got your phone calls! You’re in some serious shit and it’s in your best interest to talk to us!”
They say they have my suboxone; which is hardly “dope” in my opinion. They go on to say I need to let them search my place and snitch on 3 people to make it all go away in more words and more scare tactics. I tell them I’m not letting them search. They reply “Fine this officer will stay here while I get a search warrant and then the judge will really want to fuck you over.” I tell them I’m going to call a lawyer. This REALLY upset them, even more so than mentioning the constitution. As I began looking through my cell phone for my lawyer (who happens to be my dad’s childhood friend) their demeanor completely changed. They were my friends now. “Hey relax guy, we’re trying to help you here.” The one detective says. I tell him “it’s not your job to help people, your job is to help convict people.” The other detective follows my words with “WELL THEN YOU BETTER HELP YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU”RE FACING MULTIPLE FELONIES! SAY GOODBYE TO BLUELIGHT UNIVERSITY! YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR A FELON TO GET A JOB?” These two seemed irritated or they’re just great actors. They must deal with stupid people on a regular basis.

All the while they were screaming at me and intimidating me, I hardly realized they were creeping into my house more and more. After literally 30 minutes of them screaming at me, not letting me call a lawyer and doing everything in their power to scare me, I caved and let them search. They promised I wouldn’t be charged for anything they found. “Heh pigs and their empty promises” I thought. But after this much unexpected drama and scare tactics I didn’t verbally consent to it but I very stupidly let them search. A note to everyone, these guys are good at what they do. I always prided myself on knowing what to do and how to talk to police. But these bastards caught me SO off guard and really hit me hard with everything they had…several times and double teamed me with their interrogation tactics. It’s mad easy to watch a video about what to do but when you’re face to face with two 6ft tall +200lb detectives, it suddenly becomes a lot harder to think straight.

Here is what they left my house with that day:

One glass pipe, 2 chillums, 2 water bongs, an n2o cracker, a case of n2o, my case of 75 dried poppy pods, 60 or so Soma, 2 grams of weed, 2 grams of weed laced with DMT, stacker 3 caffeine pills (why?), (this is where it gets bad) a digital scale, a couple hundred empty gel caps, one pound of lye, several quarts of Naptha, several spent jars from extracting DMT, my journal in which I vividly noted the extraction process I used and contained a ‘manifesto’ of sorts I had written about psychedelics/spirituality and the constitution (ya know all those things the government hates) as well as some trip reports. There were some other drugs and paraphernalia confiscated that is currently slipping my mind but last 6 on the list were the ones I was most worried about.

While they were tearing my bedroom apart, I snatched my jars of DMT without either officer noticing. One is a beautiful hand blown glass jar; the other is a regular sized pharmaceutical pill bottle. Both are filled with DMT, roughly 6-8 grams in total. As they continue to confiscate my collection of fine substances, I ask to go to the bathroom and hide the DMT under the sink. About an hour later, the search is over. It’s clear that if I snitch on 3 people, all the stuff they confiscated and my “multiple felonies” for selling suboxone will disappear forever. I’m completely shocked to the point where I’m nearly shaking. Then I thought it would be a good idea to actually shake, I figured I’d do a little acting. I totally cooperated; I told them I’d snitch even though I had no intention of ever snitching. So there I was a shaking sniveling little bitch, their own personal snitch, I was at their service.

As they leave my bedroom and begin to walk down the hall they pass the bathroom. The one officer starts looking through my bathroom. He pulls out the pill bottle containing about 3 grams of deemz for underneath the sink. He slowly raises it to his face, inspects it and then holds it up for me to see. “What’s this?” he asks.

[The thrilling conclusion in my next post!]

catch ya'll on the flipside. i'll be around for maybe a fortnight - just letting everyone know asap so you all don't think i'm buried in the dirt or something.
keep it cool, xx

im about to inform you as to why i am entirely too pissed off at the moment. for what you ask? nothing that deserves this level of pissed offness, that's for sure, but it has me thinking about something a friend of mine said the other day. he was perturbed, just as i am now, but he said it was ugly and tried to apologize. i said, "fuck that. why is it ugly when it's apart of your nature?"
when someone's taking anger out on you, then yes that's a bit ugly, but if they're just angry in general...cussing loudly, bitching about what they're cussing about, roughly fumbling with nearby items...how is that ugly? how do people deal with repressing that kind of frustration? because i have no fucking idea. i actually find it attractive when people express anger in a healthy way. it's alive and raw and full of their personality.
i am completely guilty of this characteristic and im tired of being looked down upon because im having a bad day and verbalize. it's not a bad fucking thing to be angry...it's natural...it's healthy....it's just what fucking happens. dont be a bitch to everyone in your present area, dont break things that arent yours, but for god fucking sakes raise your voice at the coffee maker for not fucking cooperating!
besides, that's how i recognize love. when i see how a person acts during bad times, that's when i know if i love them or not. im not talking family either. when i find the person who finds me attractive when im irritated, that's who i'll marry. because all the other shit doesnt fucking matter really. you can laugh with anyone, talk with whoever...but it takes a fucking lot to really love a persons anger and not just put up with it.

Last Tuesday, we settled out of court with the two former employees causing my mum grief in Cairns. With this huge weight lifted off our shoulders, mum is off the valium and her and my sister can now focus on the business of hopefully wrapping up our affairs up north so everyone can move on with their lives.

So in the spirit of moving on with life, the reason I planned to drop in during my fortnight off was to write about the significance of today.

On August 24th 2007 I ended my 3.5 year relationship with Jess... that was two years ago today. It's unlikely she's taken note of today as I was always the one who was more mindful of dates and anniversaries.

We met on September 21st 2003... in Revolver. We became a couple six months to the day, on March 21st 2004. The first two years of our relationship were the best years of my life, the two years after we broke up have been the worst. It's taken me most of those two years to come to the realisation that neither of us are to blame for this state of affairs.

Jess is an academic, she teaches at university level and has a Phd. She is Italian, Sicilian actually, speaks the language but doesn't identify with "wog" culture... she has travelled to Europe a few times. Unlike me, she doesn't make friends quickly or very easily, but the friendships she does make tend to last... she loves books, arthouse films, Dylan Moran, cats, red wine (and alcohol in general), poking fun at my own inability to drink, trashy television and she is especially fond of penguins.

Unlike me, she is quick to anger over certain things (I blame the Italian blood) and not great at accepting criticism, but she is also smart, funny, incredibly genuine and has a heart of pure, 24-carat gold. Born five days before me, she is also a Pisces yet in contrast to myself, she is far more responsible when it comes to money or drugs.

We are still friends, though not very close anymore, we still see movies together quite often. It is often difficult for us to talk about the past, so most of the time we don't and keep things at a somewhat superficial level... while it's obvious there is a genuine respect and affection between us, sometimes it's hard to tell that we were anything more than friends.

There are very few people in the world who I would say really understand me, so I'm glad Jess is still in my life and we can maintain a friendship.



This photo was taken at Big Day Out 2006... as you can imagine, we were a pretty awesome couple. Most people commented as such. It's hard to imagine how happy we used to make each other.... but most of all, the hardest thing about breaking up with someone you love is always worrying if they'll find someone who will treat them as well as you did.

Okay, so i've read A LOT of the fentanyl threads on here. And A LOT of people are bashing on the MYLAN brand Fentanyl patches. These are the plastic matrix type patches. They are NOT gels.

I've been addicted to opiates for 3-4 years now. It started out with one 7.5mg vicodin. Now i'm eating around 50-75mcg of fentanyl EVERY day. It's getting bad. But anyways, the reason for this thread was to express MY feelings on fentanyl patches, mostly the MYLAN brand. It is my favorite. I want to provide some of MY reasons why I enjoy the MYLAN brand over any other. And over any type of gel patches.

Before I go on, it must be known that I don't typically eat these patches to get high. I need them to not go through any w/ds. Otherwise I wouldn't have to do these everyday. When I want to get high, I combine other pills/drugs into the mix. As well as marijuana. But that's an entire different thread. haha.

I hate the gel patches. mostly because of the way I use the mylan patches. I always just cut off & put a piece in my mouth for 4-5 hours, just sitting on my tongue. and it will keep me lovely ALL DAY. I've sucked on gel's before, and a lot of it gets wasted due to swallowing it.

With the gel patches, you certainly cannot take a 100mcg and cut it into 2-4 pieces which you could totally do with a MYLAN. All the gel will leak out. And swallowing the gel is an absolute waste, as it will not effect you once it passes into the g.i tract. I don't like smoking/injecting the gel either. I HAVE smoked it before off tin foil just to see what type of effects I would get. But they were always very shitty. And really short lasting. It also wastes a 100mcg patch very quickly. I've seen my friend smoke an entire 100mg gel within an hour. A 100mcg MYLAN patch for me would last me 2-3 days. And for as expensive as they are (I live in Buffalo, NY...a 100mcg goes anywhere from $60 which is considered really good - all the way up to $100+)

I normally get my hands on whatever size mylan patches are around. 50, 75, or 100mcg usually. Sometimes ill come across some 25mcgs. And lately i'm up to eating 50mcg at a time just to feel feel a TINY BIT over comfortable. I take it about an hour after waking up EVERY day. Otherwise i'll feel like shit if I don't. It rarely gets me high. It just makes me feel comfortable in my own skin for the day. Then Ill usually eat another 25mcg at night around 9-10pm (I don't go to sleep til about 3am), not because I need it for maintenance...but just to be chilled out. And I know i'll sleep good if I eat a little piece at night. Ill also eat xanax sometimes (lately, quite often) with my night dose of 25mcg. Then me and my girlfriend will usually just chill out and watch a movie. I try to limit myself on the xanax though..i'm already addicted to one terrible drug. I don't need to get myself into another dangerous drug, with the w/ds from it resulting in possible seizure's & death. I was so niave about opiates when I first started doing them. I really didn't know what addiction was. I was just selling scripts of vidodin to make money, and I would eat a few every time. Then I started getting them every day to sell, so I would keep a couple more..then vic's didnt work anymore and I got into oxy's..then they got too expensive and didn't work.. and then I found fentanyl and got out of control. Please, if you're reading this and have not taken a trip to the world of opiates...DO NOT start. You do not want to take that trip. And i've never tried heroin for that exact reason - Because I will love it too much, and I promised myself I would never get into heroin. Fentanyl is as far as it's going to go.

But anyways, I believe the mylan patches are MUCH better. They can be very easily hidden. I keep mine in a cd case in my room. Or when i'm out & about, ill keep them in my wallet. Another reason I take a liking to them is because you can pretty much cut yourself whatever size dose you want. Which you cannot do with the gels.

I can't believe I use to get out of my mind for 6+ hours on a piece of about 10-15mcg. with insane nods. Sometimes if I ate it at night, I would wake up the next..afternoon(haha) like 13 hours later, still high as a kite. Now I couldn't even get those results if I ate an entire 100mcg.

I plan on getting off these really soon. I'm weaning myself down as far as I can then i'm going to jump off. I've been stacking up on benzo's for the w/ds. Also got some Immodium AD at my hand. Some nyquil, with dxm in it hehe. That should help right? Any other suggestions? I REALLY wish I could get my hands on some Clonodine. Dang. It sounds like that stuff would help immensley.


But I hope this thread was helpful to anyone looking for info on MYLAN brand fentanyl patches vs. duragesic (gel). If you have the choice to get gel, or the plastic matrix...go with the matrix!! especially the MYLAN brand.



Wish me luck on getting off this stuff guys.




PS - This is my first post by the way, so spare me if it's a little bit all over the place. I had a lot I wanted to say, but wasn't too sure how I wanted to structure it. And i'm not even sure I posted this in the right area. I'm sorry!