freesolo123
Bluelighter
I could write about how I got into Heroin but that's another story, this story is about a Crack and Heroin addict "Me" and the last few days which have been eye opening.
It starts on Saturday when I phone my guy at 10am and he tells me "after 5 Bruv" in his multicultural London accent, I don't need Heroin I have enough for the day but i like to buy in bulk 2 to 3 times a week and stay on top of it. I have 3 bags left I have been averaging 5 a day so with ?100 at 5 each i will get 10 bags of "Dark" and 10 "light" (I think you can figure out what the colour shades indicate). I will also get 2 extra bags for my large purchase and loyal service.
I have a dealer lets call him "Red" I have been using for around 2 months he is a jovial character and I actual cannot believe he sells class A drugs for a living as he seems far too nice a person often telling me "sorry I'm late Bruther" and joking with me about his day, but I often have tell myself you cannot really know this person from a trade of cash for drugs and he must be in a circle of some very dangerous people.
As the light fades he still hasn't arrived and I phone him to see if he is "en route" which he assures me he is and I start the "phone/clock watch" which is a behavior any addict will understand.
He arrives at 10 on the dot and calls me to say he is here, I bounce out the house like a kid on his way to the park full of momentary energy and vigour, I notice someone is in the front seat which is a bit odd but whatever I want my drugs! I climb in the bac and the smell Skunk hits me like a hammer and I have to clear my throat, Red is his usual self apologizing for being late an joking about the unfortunate events that led to his tardiness and we banter back and forth as I slip in "10 of each please" to the conversation. I am very aware of this person in the passenger seat, he is there alright! not a big figure but his lack of attention to my presence is making me a little unsettled, he is like statue except for his arm holding a joint moving very slowly back and forward from his mouth taking huge draws as the ember explodes to life. As we wrap up deal get into the courteous goodbyes the figure moves and looks at me with this deadpan stare making me feel nervous and I notice Red has stopped talking so I squeeze out a awkward "alright mate", he doesn't flinch but instead moves the joint towards me and a deep Jamaican accent says "Blaze Ganga" and it feels like a order not a question. I'm fully aware of how much I hate Cannabis as all of my psychological meltdowns can be laid at the feet of this drug, simply put it "fucks my head up". At the same time I am same time I am arguing that I smoke crack and Heroin on a daily basis its time you "man up and learn how to smoke weed". So I take it and blaze the shit with deep pulls looking at the joint as I exhale out my nose (I seen Rastas on TV smoke it this way) I pass it back to him and think I have gained his respect with my performance he smiles and bellows out a barry white laugh which we all join in as I exit the vehicle.
The car pulls away and I am light headed and very aware of a pulse in my head and trying to distract myself from it then my heart skips a beat and as quick as that I desperately manage to say "SHIT!" and I'm in panic. I'm talking life threatening gun to your head life on the line PANIC! and I start to shake and reason with it but its like trying to reason with a prison governor as he walks you down death row towards the electric chair. I walk but am totally numb in shock and breathing erratically in short sharp bursts, I notice a person on the other side of the road and turn away from him not wanting to draw attention to myself and embarrass myself, its nice to know my Ego still holds a place for shame and social insecurity in this terrifying situation. As he moves away from me my vision becomes jumpy then blurry and I feel disconnected from my body and at the moment when i lose myself altogether everything turns Black.
TBC
It starts on Saturday when I phone my guy at 10am and he tells me "after 5 Bruv" in his multicultural London accent, I don't need Heroin I have enough for the day but i like to buy in bulk 2 to 3 times a week and stay on top of it. I have 3 bags left I have been averaging 5 a day so with ?100 at 5 each i will get 10 bags of "Dark" and 10 "light" (I think you can figure out what the colour shades indicate). I will also get 2 extra bags for my large purchase and loyal service.
I have a dealer lets call him "Red" I have been using for around 2 months he is a jovial character and I actual cannot believe he sells class A drugs for a living as he seems far too nice a person often telling me "sorry I'm late Bruther" and joking with me about his day, but I often have tell myself you cannot really know this person from a trade of cash for drugs and he must be in a circle of some very dangerous people.
As the light fades he still hasn't arrived and I phone him to see if he is "en route" which he assures me he is and I start the "phone/clock watch" which is a behavior any addict will understand.
He arrives at 10 on the dot and calls me to say he is here, I bounce out the house like a kid on his way to the park full of momentary energy and vigour, I notice someone is in the front seat which is a bit odd but whatever I want my drugs! I climb in the bac and the smell Skunk hits me like a hammer and I have to clear my throat, Red is his usual self apologizing for being late an joking about the unfortunate events that led to his tardiness and we banter back and forth as I slip in "10 of each please" to the conversation. I am very aware of this person in the passenger seat, he is there alright! not a big figure but his lack of attention to my presence is making me a little unsettled, he is like statue except for his arm holding a joint moving very slowly back and forward from his mouth taking huge draws as the ember explodes to life. As we wrap up deal get into the courteous goodbyes the figure moves and looks at me with this deadpan stare making me feel nervous and I notice Red has stopped talking so I squeeze out a awkward "alright mate", he doesn't flinch but instead moves the joint towards me and a deep Jamaican accent says "Blaze Ganga" and it feels like a order not a question. I'm fully aware of how much I hate Cannabis as all of my psychological meltdowns can be laid at the feet of this drug, simply put it "fucks my head up". At the same time I am same time I am arguing that I smoke crack and Heroin on a daily basis its time you "man up and learn how to smoke weed". So I take it and blaze the shit with deep pulls looking at the joint as I exhale out my nose (I seen Rastas on TV smoke it this way) I pass it back to him and think I have gained his respect with my performance he smiles and bellows out a barry white laugh which we all join in as I exit the vehicle.
The car pulls away and I am light headed and very aware of a pulse in my head and trying to distract myself from it then my heart skips a beat and as quick as that I desperately manage to say "SHIT!" and I'm in panic. I'm talking life threatening gun to your head life on the line PANIC! and I start to shake and reason with it but its like trying to reason with a prison governor as he walks you down death row towards the electric chair. I walk but am totally numb in shock and breathing erratically in short sharp bursts, I notice a person on the other side of the road and turn away from him not wanting to draw attention to myself and embarrass myself, its nice to know my Ego still holds a place for shame and social insecurity in this terrifying situation. As he moves away from me my vision becomes jumpy then blurry and I feel disconnected from my body and at the moment when i lose myself altogether everything turns Black.
TBC
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I thinks easier to write about something you have a passion for even if that passion is as low as crack.