DRUGS.
The glory days are definitely over. The honeymoon period has definitely passed. The mash-up ship has sailed.
We’re now at the divorce stage of the marriage, as Rob very wisely put it, thank you Rob.
I feel like at this point we’re just “chasing the dragon” as such, trying to recreate those first few leg-stroking, jaw-swinging, heart-warming, shit-chatting times where we are young, inexperienced and truly fucked beyond belief. We know what to expect now, we know now that if you take enough MDMA you probably won’t actually be having that much fun but will in turn look like a camel with dry mouth. That if a group of you take hallucinogenics, the chances are one of you will have a bad trip. But that was all part of the mystery before.
I feel like this past year, at festivals, various after parties and suchlike, I’ve seen enough horrific drug (acid/2ci) induced freak outs, (grown men running around butt-naked, declaring to the entire campsite how he’d like to make love to his mother etc etc) that drugs have almost a dark undertone now, as we wait for the next person to go bezzerk.
Something that was never really in the air before, or if it was it made its nasty ass very discreet, is addiction. All of a sudden someone painfully close to you forms a delightful addiction. Now may I just point out, when God was deciding on things to promptly fuck up humans lives, this was one of his most powerful weapons. When a substance gets put before other necessary priorities and morals, when that substance is present on a basis that is approaching daily, when a person is no longer doing it for fun, but because it’s “better than being sober”, ladies and gentlemen we have an addiction. Now, a lesson to be learnt by anyone who loves someone with a drug addiction is that some people cannot be helped. Some people will always be in a fabricated dream world driven by denial. These people can only help themselves, but some of these people never will. The hard truth is learning that trying to help someone who cannot be helped will only ever end up hurting the both of you in the long run. The one thing to remember when wondering if your friend will ever get better, is “actions speak louder than words”. They may be talking all the talk, but make sure they’re actually walking the fucking walk too!
And so naturally, with addiction comes theft. Not in every case but, more often than not. This is where shit suddenly gets real. It’s a horrible thing when something goes missing and there’s only a certain number of places it could have gone without spontaneously combusting. Which we all know doesn’t fucking happen. It’s a hard thing when you have to point the finger at those supposedly close to you, and thus unwanted discussions have to be had and secret rules have to be put in place. But theft is the evil little brother of addiction, alongside lying; who is the cunt of a little sister. But I won’t get started on that or I’ll have completely deviated from my original point.
My point is getting messy is no longer as lighthearted and fun as it used to be, it’s no longer something that we anticipate in awe. That much is undeniable. That’s not to say some good times can’t be had by any means, but these days I feel almost like drugs are like this incredible, beautiful person, who is amazing and you have the absolute best times with them, unforgettable times, but then they went and did a great huge fucking fart and the stink is still lingering in the air.
15feb2012
