Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
There Aint No Justice 050
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO
OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO"
OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO'
OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO
OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO"
OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO'
OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO
|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
| |
| There Ain't No Justice |
| |
| #50 |
| |
|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
- Dummy Dust -
by Hegz
A few weeks ago I read a message posted by someone in a Godnet sub. It
basically said, 'I'm not doing drugs anymore, seen too much shit happen to
too many people.' That message struck a nerve in me. I have found whenever
the topic of drugs comes up, I tend to glamorize thier existance and use by
relating my positive expieriences with them. Actually, that's quite
irresponsible of me. Especially since I stopped taking drugs quite a long
time ago. I have seen minds drained, lives ruined, lives taken away. All by
drugs. I 'near' overdosed myself on at least two occasions. It is quite a
harrowing experience. Heart pounding as if you are five seconds from taking
your last breath. the fear is very real and justified too. the first time I
swore there wouldn't be a second.
The second time I awoke 6 hours after thinking I was closing my eyes for
the last time... and I really WOKE up. I spent 3 hours trying to remember
various things. Things that you shouldn't easily forget, my phone number
for instance. I spent an hour just trying to remember the exchange, finally
looked at the phone to read it. It didn't even look familiar. I then
pondered what I had for breakfast the day before...no good. Lunch? Nope.
Dinner? Did I even eat? Something was seriously wrong here, and I had more
than an idea what it could be. I had a almost insatible appetite for pot.
It wasn't uncommon for me to smoke 2-4 ounces a week. I was eating black
beauties (uppers) like they were jelly beans, snorting coke, speed, and
even heroin on one occasion. When I couldn't get pot (which was rare), I
would smoke Angel Dust.... I might as well have sniffed glue or turpentine.
Acid was a toy I abused regularly, and mesculine was bought 50 hits at a
time and was gone within 2 weeks. If someone gave me a pill, I would always
ask what it was, but before the answer reached my ears, it was already
swallowed. I had to face it. I was a drug addict. I was quite burnt. It was
quite obvious.
The first near death expierience was at a party where drugs were spread out
on trays like most people spread out cold cuts. You name it, it was there.
If it was there, I was abusing it. I ate three hits of mescaline, snorted
half a gram of coke, a couple of lines of speed, and half a bottle of
vodka.... all within 30 minutes time. Veteran drug abusers were looking at
me like I was insane, and joking about my impending death. I ignored them.
I had other things on my mind. Things like the pounding in my chest... I
could swear everyone could see my heart as it pounded out each beat as if
it would jump from my chest. I must have had that look. The look of fear
that I had seen many times on others faces. People started to ask me if I
was 'alright', I assured them I was and quickly said goodbye to everyone. I
don't remember the drive home. I do remember laying in bed asking a god I
didn't believe in to spare me my young life. The pounding in my chest took
6 hours to begin to subside. I lay awake everyone of them, thinking if I
closed my eyes, I would never open them again. I then swore I would never
do drugs again. I didn't, for a whole two weeks.
The second time was much worse. A 'friend' gave me a couple of pills that
he said were 'fucking great'... that was quite enough for me to be
reassured that this shit was safe. I asked for a couple more, he gave them
to me, but made me promise to take them one at a time. I promised and he
believed me. Two hours later I was at another friend's house and we each
ate one. He didn't even care what they were. I impatiently waited 15
minutes for something to happen, but nothing did. I then said I was going
to eat another, and popped it into my mouth, but thought twice about
swallowing it. My friend didn't hesitate, he quickly swallowed his, so I
figured I had no choice....gulp. An hour later I felt like I was
encapsulated in glass. I could see quite alright, but somehow felt
seperated from reality. My heart started its rebellion dance once again. At
the same time, I felt very docile, but yet very aggresive. My friend was
holding his head and rocking like a child. I found myself repeatedly
saying, 'we should have only taken one', but it was much to late for
regrets. I remember turning the TV on and seeing something that I didn't
like. It was a Eddie Money video. For some reason it angered me. I picked
the TV up and threw it down on the concrete floor. My friend,who owned the
TV, asked if I was alright, as if I had fell down and skinned my knee. I
lied and said I was, and asked how he was... he lied and said he was just
fine too. The next thing I remember was I was laying down, trying my best
to fight my bodies desire to sleep. I was certain that sleep would mean
death. I wanted to get up and call an ambulance, but couldn't muster the
strength. I looked at my friend sleeping on the floor, and was glad to hear
his snoring. When I awoke, it was to that same snoring. I was quite glad to
it. It took me most of the day to start feeling like myself again. Later
that day I saw the kid that gave me the pills. I asked him where he got
those pills from.. he told me they belonged to his mother, she was to take
them if she felt a heart attack coming on. This was the beginning of the
end of my drug abusing.
Six months later, and six months after I abused any pills or dust. I
thought it was rather harmless that I still smoked the occasional joint.
The local police thought differently though. To make a already long story
short, I was arrested for possesion of less than 25 grams of a CDS, and
aggravated assault on a police officer. My bail was set at $10,000 cash, no
bond. I was lucky enough to get bailed out, and spent $2500 on a lawyer to
get myself out of the mess. I recieved a slap on the wrist, and got a years
probation. It was time to rethink my philosophy. I did. I thought hard
about all the lives I had personally seen destroyed by drug abuse. I
decided it was not what I wanted for my own.
So, basically what I am saying is, if don't use drugs, don't start. They
don't make you cool, they won't enlighten you, they won't 'turn you on.'
They will however, burn your precious brain cells and quite possibly kill
you. If you do abuse drugs, be sure you are in control of it, and not it in
control of you. If you're sticking needles in your arm, you're a fool, so
just make believe you didn't read this. Drugs are not cool. They are
deadly.
I offer the following as proof. All these people were very real to me. Most
of them are nothing more than a memory. They all have one thing in
common.... they're dead.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joey - When I was 10 years old I watched him stick a needle in his arm.
He was my friends 18 year old brother. He heated heroin in a bottle
cap until it liquified, filled the syringe, and then wrapped his
belt tightly around his arm. His veins were bruised and collapsed,
but he found a receptive one anyway. He stuck himself, and released
the belt. His eyes rolled in his head and he smiled. I hadn't yet
heard the phrase 'tombstones in his eyes', but a few years later
when I did, I thought of Joey. Before releasing the belt fully he
did mumble something to me, 'Don't do this shit kid, it will kill
you.' Joey was right. Two days before my 15th birthday I went to his
funeral.
Chris - He was only 14. His parents went away one weekend and his older
brothers decided to throw a big party. They were smoking pot and
popping Qualudes. Chris wanted to be just like his brothers, so
he popped 4 'ludes and drank alot of vodka. At some point he
announced he wasn't feeling well and went upstairs to his bedroom.
That was on Friday night. No one missed him until Sunday morning.
They found him dead in his own vomit. Did I mention? Chris never
missed the honor roll in school.
Adam - He was the kid that was always in trouble. It's funny when I think
back to 3rd grade and how silly he must have looked smoking those
Benson & Hedges 100's. He used to sneak liquor out of his house
and he was always getting caught. I didn't realize then that he
was an alcoholic... then again, nobody did. He was too busy making
people laugh. When he got older he took to mixing pills with his
alcohol. One day while quite smashed he walked out in front of a
car. He lay in a coma for three months before letting go. He was
17. I visited him once in the hospital and never went again..it
just hurt too much. It still hurts now.
Brian - AKA Bonehead. A fitting nickname for someone like him. Brian went
to college on a scholarship and dropped out two months before
graduation. He was a pyschology major. He liked playing mind games,
and he played them oh so well. He also liked smoking Angel Dust.
He tried to quit his habit, but readily admitted he enjoyed it too
much. One day he played the ultimate mind game. He hung himself in
the hallway of his parent's home. He was found by his mother and
younger brother Jim. He left a note that simply stated. "I'm going
home to my father." He always said his true father was Satan.
Jim - Brother of Brian (see above), and his other brother Paul. I
seriously thought that after finding his brother dead, Jim would
stop smoking dust. Maybe I was just hoping. Jim was one of the
best friends I ever had. He was also one of the most ignorant
bastards I've ever met. Not that he was uneducated, Jim was one
of the smartest kids in school. We took honors classes together.
Jim's biggest problem was that he had absolutely no fear. When
the engine blew in his new van, it wasn't a problem. He just rented
a garage, robbed another new van just like his, did an engine swap,
and gave away all the parts he didn't need. He likened himself to
Robin Hood, and in a way he was. One Christmas when his neighbor
who had 5 children lost his job, Jim stole a large amount of copper
from a big corporation. He sold it for scrap at the junkyard for
$2000. He bought a $1000 worth of gifts for the kids, and put the
other $1000 in an envelope and left it all in the neighbors hallway
with a note saying it was from 'Santa Claus'. I'm the only one who
ever knew about it because I helped him wrap the gifts. A few
months later the Feds came and arrested him for the theft...seems
the scrap dealer turned him in when he got caught trying to sell it
to someone else. Before it went to court, Jim and his brother Paul
got caught for trying to burn down a state-owned bridge (they tried
to do this every Memorial Day), were arrested for conspiracy by the
U.S. Customs Agency (they never told me what it was about, but they
did say 'Mom' needed mortgage money), and were also busted for
possesion of 2 pounds of pot. How they remained out on bail was the
biggest mystery of them all. I asked them if they were afraid, and
they confidently said they would beat all the cases, but it was
obvious that something wasn't right when they started smoking lots
of Angel Dust. One day I went to thier house and Paul handed me a
picture he had sketched. It was a drawing of a hooded figure with
a sickle in one hand, the other arm was raised above its head, and
its hand was holding a rope with a man dangling from it. Paul simply
said, "It's my brother Brian with his father." It spooked the shit
out of me. These boys were fried crisp and it seemed no one cared.
Three days later I went back to the house to find a big party in
progress. There were lots of cars with New York plates outside. When
I finally found Jim, he was in his room with about 15 other people.
They were playing russian roulette with a .38, needless to say I got
the fuck out of there fast. I'm so glad I did. Later that evening
some guy blew a chunk out of his head. No charges were pressed.. it
was an accidental death, and the gun although unregistered, was
owned by the victim. I never went back to the house again. Three
weeks later I saw Jim on my way to work. He asked to me come to a
party that he was going to throw at his house that coming Saturday.
I told him I would think about it, although I knew I probally
wouldn't go. Jim looked like shit, and I told him so. He said he
knew, had a lot on his mind. He then asked if I wanted to go with
him and his brother to steal copper that night. I told him he was
crazy and promised to stop by his house the next day. Later that
evening I was watching TV with my girlfriend and during a commercial
there was one of those 'News at 11' breaks. My heart nearly stopped
when I heard the newscaster say, "Two local men electrocuted while
stealing copper, more at 11pm." They were stealing the copper right
off the poles. The lines they were cutting were dead, but the line
at the top of the pole was not. It provided electricity to an oil
terminal. It was a windy night, and they were using a aluminum
ladder to reach the cable. Someone who had seen them two hours prior
had told me that they were smoking a joint of Angel Dust the size of
a cigar before they left. For whatever reason, I don't know, the next
day I went to the spot where they had died. Two pairs of burned shoes
still laid there.
There were alot of people at the funeral. More than I have ever
seen at any other. But the thing I remember most is the group of
assholes that went outside to smoke some dust. They claimed that
"Jimmy and Paul would have wanted it that way". Somehow I couldn't
protest that.
These are just a few of the people I know whose lives were lost because of
drug abuse. I sincerely believe the people mentioned might have still been
alive if not for thier 'experimentation'. This list also doesn't include
the dozens of people I know who are burnt beyond repair, those who were or
still are in jail, and the ones that are dead or dying of Aids from sharing
needles.
I wrote this not to preach, but rather to educate.
To those of you that have never taken drugs, please don't. No matter what
anyone tells you, LSD will not 'open you to a new world'. It will just fry
a couple million brain cells at a clip. I've taken Acid many times and I
still wonder what it has taken from me. Marijuana is not harmless. It makes
you lazy and forgetfull, and it also does more damage to your lungs then
smoking cigarettes. Popping pills of any kind is just plain stupid. If you
aren't sick, you don't need 'the cure'. Angel Dust fries your mind quickly,
and believe me, you are well aware of it the moment you smoke it.
And to those of you that are using and abusing... if you aren't smart
enough, or at least honest enough to admit to yourself that drug usage has
an adverse effect on your life or at least your mind, at least be
responsible enough to not glorify drug usage to those that have never used.
Don't think that just because you're fucked up, it gives you the right to
fuck up our future doctors, engineers, teachers, scientists, pilots, and
most of all PARENTS.
If you think you have a problem and would like to seek help, please call
the following number:
Drug Abuse 24 Hour Hotline & Treatment Program - 1-800-444-9999
I dedicate this file to my dead friend Jim. I remember asking him once why
they called 'it' Angel Dust. His reply came quickly...
"Because dude, if they called it Dummy Dust no one would buy it."
ú ùþ ú
ÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜ ú ù ú
±±±±ÛÛÛßÛ²ÝÛÝÛÛÝþ Üú
±±±±²²²²²ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜþúÝ ù
±±²²²²ÛÛßßÛßÝÛÛÛÛÛÝÜúþ
²²²²²Ûß þúßÞþßþþÜùþ
²²²²Ûß ú ù
²²²ÛÝ
²²²ÛÜ
±²²²ÛÝ
±±²²²ÛÜÜÜ
±±±²²²²²²ÛÜ Phoenix Modernz Systems: 908/830-TANJ
ÛÛ±±±±±±²²²Û The Syndicate: 908/506-6651
ÛÛ±±±±±±²²²Û The Matrix BBS: 908/905-6691
±±±²²²²²²ÛÜ First United Church Kalisti: 602/753-3784
±±²²²ÛÜÜÜ The Cell: 817/870-1060
±²²²ÛÝ
²²²ÛÜ
²²²ÛÝ
²²²²Ûß ú ù
²²²²²Ûß þúßÞþßþþÜùþ
±±²²²²ÛÛßßÛßÝÛÛÛÛÛÝÜúþ
±±±±²²²²²ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜþúÝ ù
±±±±ÛÛÛßÛ²ÝÛÝÛÛÝþ Üú
ÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜ ú ù ú
