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Western Union Memories

blahblahblah

Bluelighter
Joined
May 12, 2001
Messages
5,529
Location
lost in the clouds
Apple cider
Gnarly roots
banks of the river
rainbow trout
sacks burlap
fiddle and dance
Mitchell's Pond
Large Elm tree's, thick branches
rocking chair
train whistle clacking down the tracks
flames of the fire evoke within
full moons (harvest) silhouetted branches
Willow trees, corncob pipe
cast iron wood burning stoves



Methadone 'spritzer'
bulging veins
street corner hustle
catfish
tinfoil wraps
thumps of bass
Lake Michigan
railroad ties
1950's vinal chrome plated kitchenette
sirens wailing in the distance
flames of fire melt the rock
dark skys, illuminated city
Dutch Elm disease, and glass stems
Trashcan bonfires


Hot, sticky summer nights, the air is filled with intrigue. The bars up and down Bleaker street are overflowing pushing people onto the streets. Horns honk endlessly, and yellow cabs blur out of the corner of my eye, beautiful girls, and intoxicating spirits. I make my way closer to my destination. Coming up to the corner I run into a film set on the street.

Projection lights
Catering tents
blocked off streets
and people mulling around everywhere
'DONT WALK IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA!!!!'
Well, excuuuuuuse meeee

I pass by an actor who is slinging his gun around like a wild west showdown, Spinning around on his finger he levels the gun at me and mouths the words, 'Pop'. I look the other way, and am greeted by two drop dead gorgeous girls and make perfect eye contact. One of them leans over and whispers something into her friends ear, and I hear whistling and catcalls as I push deeper down the block.

Emily should be at the corner of 1rst and Ave A, waiting for me with my dope leisurely palmed. I try to look towards the end of the block but my vision is obstructed by random shoulders and heads. I get tense, what happens if shes late...? What happens if I cant score...? What if, what if...?

True to her word (true to my cash) she is leaning against the street lamp looking into the pedestrian traffic, staring in an aimless fashion. Do the deal, got the dope?

Trace my steps and hope they lead me back home

I run into the same two girls sitting on the set and they wave me over, intrigued I wander in there direction and say hello. Foreigners, I cant understand you, but you sure look good.

My memory jogs and I am transported back to the South of France, Nice to be exact. I am in some large bi-level hotel room with views of the Mediterranean Sea dancing in the distance. I met Nola when I was walking along the pebble beach, she was from Norway. I invited her back to my hotel room for a drink, mainly because she said her and her friends would pick mushrooms and run around naked in the Forests of Scandinavia. Now she filling the jacuzzi up. Taylor is at the dining room table giving me dirty looks over the top of the book he is reading. Fuck him... Splish, Splash, gimme a bath.

Alright, alright I am nearing the apartment as my nostalgic memories fade. The piano player is playing some classical song in the restaurant on the ground floor. I take a brief look at the menu, and run up the stairs up to the 3rd floor. Mike and old friend, has some BECK on the stereo, the volume is turned up loud, beer bottles lounge on the kitchen table. I can hear Mike singing in the shower as I sit down and break out my gear.

Two bags are emptied into the spoon, a pile of white heaven gets turned into mush as the cold water strikes it. Dissolving the dreams of many. A click of the flint and the lighter flames up. Heating the mix gently, swirling motion. I drop the cotton in and suck up the liquid into the barrel of the needle. Sounds from the street are flowing in thru the windows, the room is lit in a dim orange glow as I try to steady my shaking hands. Time slows as I hit the vein, my body is trembling with anticipation. Emptying the needle into my arm, my chest feels heavy as I take a deep breath. I feel the junk start to take its effect on the cells of my body, my stomach turns and the rush hits me full strength. My eyelids droop and I feel absolutely excellent, a million bucks, super fucking dooper. I lay on the pine floor and let the music rush over me. The CD is on track 3 (Lord Only Knows), and Becks melodious lyrics whisper in my ear...

Invite me to the seven seas
watch some sea sick man

You'll do whatever you please
I'll do what ever I can

titanic family well,
My eyes are turning Pink

dont call us when the new age
gets old enough to drink

cause lord only knows its getting late...



I trail off into my imagination untill Mike kicks me in the leg and tells me to get in the shower, we have to meet his sister and some bar (I cant recall the name of) before we head uptown to the party. He asks if he could wear a particular button down shirt of mine and I shrug and say sure. In the shower with head full of suds I hear the phone ring and Mike shuffle towards the washroom.

Knock...Knock

Yea, what do you want...?
Do you want to buy some Coke for tonight, my sis is on the phone...?
Um... Not really but get some if you want I throw some cash in I guess.

I turn the water on cold and rinse my cares aways, smiling to myself I have a feeling this is going to be a great night.

(finish some other time and redo the begining)

I don't know what life will show me, but I know what I have seen
I cant see where life will lead me, but I know where Ive been
 
b

Spheres of Influence

Keegan
-typical blue collor american
-mid 30's
-Irish
-Lives on the southwest side of Chicago (Clearing neighborhood), the area is heavily populated with people that work public service jobs (cops, firefighters, city workers)
-police officer 8th and 10th Districs(12 years on the force- 2years as a rookie, 4 robbery, 6 years working narcotics
-good looking wife (secretary)
-2 kids
-nice 2 story brick walk-up house
-member of (COPS against drunk drivers or some shit)
-

Tyrell aka Tj aka till
-never knew his dad, mom is passed, lives with grandma
-low income CHA section 8
-left school at 12
first arrested at 13
-2 years at the Boys home (battery)
-gang member (of VL or BGDN-decide later)


Chrissy
-loaded
-dope addict
-Just doesnt care



Area:
Chicagos westside (10th district)
encompasses the area of .... to ///. to ... to
residential burglaries, teenagers/gangs hanging out on yelling at people in cars, flashing gang signs.
A boy was beaten with a crowbar because he refused to join a gang.
Not unusual, many residents reportedly denied that there was any kind of a gang problem in their area. The ties in the neighboorhod are tight and the roots are interwoven with gangs and drugs since the begning
drugs and exotic weaponry' protection that they need to operate in a `hostile' environment",
A cresent yellow moon trys to peak out thru the hazy cloud cover the ground is wet and I am jittery. My confusion is temporarily masked by a band-aid manufactured with opiods. Nothing really matters, keeps repeating over and over in my head. My hood is pulled up hiding my face from the other customers in the dimly lit hallway. The motor in between the bricks is loose and crumbling. Three steps down and I am on the groundfloor, in the alley(gangway) between buildings. One of the 4 foot floresent lights is shorting out and flashes in a strobelight fashion, accompanied by an annoying hiss and crackle. Finally the guy rounds the corner and starts to serve his pack, I hand him 50 bucks and pocket my purchase.

Suppy:

Traditional organized crime is also responsible for a sizable percentage of the drug traffic in the Chicago area. Although commonly involved in prostitution, gambling, extortion, and protection rackets, the mob is reportedly now heavily involved in drug distribution in the Midwest and elsewhere. This is unlike several years ago, when the "Wiseguys" were prohibited by strict internal rules from trafficking in drugs. Recent years, however, have seen much "Mob" involvement in this most profitable business.


There go-betweens are flimsy and transparent and are kept that way.


Black Gangster Disciples Nation
Alliance: "Folks"
estimated that the size of this gang numbers 18,000-25,000
ethnic composition is mainly African-American
operates mainly on the south side from 31st and Western to the city limits and into the south suburbs
The gang controls more than two-thirds of the city's low income housing developments
The Disciples are known for their ability to distribute drugs and they employ all means of muscle and drive-by shootings to control their turf.
criminal activities include narcotics dealing and extortion of money from independent drug dealers. The Black Gangster Disciples Nation is Chicago's largest, most notorious gang, both in the streets and in the penitentiary system. Their familiar crossed pitchfork emblem and six point star (Star of David) is spray-painted on public buildings, El platforms, and residences across the city.

ViceLords
Alliance: "People"
membership is predominantly African-American
The oldest, and second largest, street gang in Chicago
Area of Their strongest power geographically is in the poor inner-city neighborhoods directly west of the Chicago Loop
its many factions are heavily involved in narcotics dealing and extortion of money from independent drug dealers; murder, drive-by shootings; robbery; theft; weapons violations; battery; assault; and intimidation; in a word, the entire spectrum of criminal endeavor

Factions include: Unknown Vice Lords; 4-Corner Hustlers; Undertaker Vice Lords; Cicero Mafia Insane Vice Lords; Imperial Insane Vice Lords; Renegade Vice Lords; Traveling Vice Lords; Executioners; Central Insane Vice Lords; and Conservative Vice Lords.
Any faction working its neighboorhoods drug markets can bring in an income of $25,000 to $100,000 per day

smudged windows,
5 point fingerprint ID
swirling stars
underwater PCP

Tyrell pays Keegan off in order to operate his drug business (such and such street) $2500-5000 per week when a area is doing brisk business.

Bang bangs your dead..

I have seen all your faces,
I have seen all of your lies
Its not sane
 
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It may be complicated covered in sin, unbreeched intoxication.

Wish I could be...

Suspended in a dull opiated haze, hopping turnstiles, lighting up on the platform, shooting up on the train, pinned in the corner seat.

Wish I could be...



Slick metallic benches, gravity is harnessed as a living force,

I passed by a bus stop the other day and laying on the bench was a three and a half foot grey alien. He was hog-tied, and painted with graffiti, I untied him and than proceeded to bombard his brain/gears using my 'sixth sense'. His large black almond eyes, had a pink-dot spray painted, pinned pupils, just as I suspected. I planted the notion in his empty head that I want to score. I'll let you sleep in my closet, if you supply.

I wish he could repair my damaged body using sound and color therapy or magnetic and vibrational healing techniques. (deep purple and green woven to replace my winter hat) In the least please program my appliances to puke for me.

Look away to the sky...
Forced to give up, I retreat...

There watching me, watching me
out my window, on the roof
pixilated pupils stare back at me from the corner tree.
camouflaged with twigs and leaf

Bankrolls 3 inchs thick will only give the gorilla a nice meal for a week, than the whiney bitch is going on a diet.

She found Justin, laying half in the closet his legs twitching, his body tinted blue. Hysterically crying (Jennifer) dials 911 and decays into the background. Speedballs, bloodclots, pneumonia, flying a mile high, pills, dope, coldshots, all come crashing down when Justins mother answers the phone. Pack it up, rehab again and again and again and again, different album, same song, different season.

Sweating in a pile of puke his insatiable urges cant be met by a morphine drip. Western Union me some cash, I'll be on the next flight up there with a bundle of dope, only if you promise not to OD in the hospital. Insatiable urges can not be left unfed, just try not to smoke any filtered air. Help me feed the disease... Come right away, and help me waste the day

And I got a corner store and that's all the more
For me to praise upon the holidays
And now I'll close my eyes really, really tight
make you all go away,
I'll make you all go all go away
Make it all go away...



Listening to the radio,
Basking in the evening glow with a bottle o' beer (brown bottles preferably)
Sunsoaked skin
dancing to a rock n roll station
chasing the breeze trying to find its origins
to no effect

Grabbed by the arm,
thrown out into the midnight sun,
onto the street
with no shoes on her feet
everyday she falls back in love with her powdered boyfriend
she's got nothing at all but a handful of change
grazing for marks on the range
sliding thru the cracks
shattered and broken
she is repaired each morning with a skimpy wake-up shot.
Blinded by the broken glass shining like diamonds on the streets of doom
Soup kitchens and desperate calls for money (Please, PLEASE!!!)
Her cries go unanswered
rambles thru the weeds
and sleeps under trees
wiping the bugs from her eyes
she quietly sighs
Homeless shelters, nodding of into a plate of spaghetti
"You ready...?"
Mumbles the long gone wino
Just try no... penetration
kill your emotions for today, worry about them some other day
Scatter and caught up in a whirlwind of street life
her small frame will soon be crushed
No hope of ever living a 'normal' life
No self control
Her teenage skin scarred deep with traxxx
'Im gonna die'
Twisted thoughts with a self-serving basis
Drinks from faucets and sleeps under bridges
the temperature sinks below
the look in her eyes is heartbreaking
Its time to go
 
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