the struggle
adolf hitler's autobiography's title, mein kampf, is the most aptly named book ever written. mein kampf means 'my struggle' as you may well know. i have never read it, never even seen a copy of it. i appreciate its' title though, i can relate. life is a constant struggle. with its twists and turns and surprises and letdowns, it is a constant struggle. even those at the very top of the world's economic food chain, it does not discriminate. the grossly wealthy struggle to keep what they have, and to get as much more as is inhumanly possible. the poor struggle to keep their bellies full. even in nature the ant struggles to build its home and the lion struggles to survive as man continually trespasses upon its territory, expanding urban growth. as an addict, i constantly struggle with the demons that haunt me, chasing me into narcotic oblivion.
i can't say that i've seen it all, but i've seen enough. fifteen-year-old junkies, thinking they are so cool sticking heroin into their arms,not realizing that they've crossed a line that is damn near impossible to come back from. crack heads turning tricks, selling their children's clothes and food stamps, they'd sell their soul if they could find a buyer.i once watched a girl cut apart a needle that had blood coagulated inside of it. the blood belonged to someone else. she added water to it and got it to turn back into a liquid and injected it into her arm to get the drugs that were trapped inside the blood. amazingly, she did not catch the A.I.D.S. virus that was inside the blood of the person who had the needle before. another girl i knew, had only one vein left- her neck. she had had a needle break off inside of it a few days earlier and 't done anything about it yet, she eventually died from the infection that it had caused, another wasted life,another soul haunted by the demons of drug addiction. i used to think i wasn't hurting anyone but myself, that my crime was victimless- that I was the victim. a victim of a corrupt society that allowed the drugs into the country. it took me going to jail, this time after a friend of mine who i had been partying with, died. at first, it looked as if the district attorney was going to charge me with criminal negligent homicide, citing my "depraved indifference" as evidence of a crime. the stress that my mother went through following the arrest caused a near fatal stroke that still affects her to this day.my children's mother was forced to keep me form them due to my degenerative appearance, resulting in behavior problems in them that have yet to be corrected. and my boss constantly has to worry that one day,i just won't show up, because i am in jail.
while in rehab, recently, a friend told me about a woman that he knew that would force herself to hold her urine throughout the whole day, afraid to go to the bathroom because someone will steal her crack. she took to urinating in a bowl. one morning she noticed a film around the bowl, she scraped it off and smoked it , and got high! she now does this daily to get her morning hit.
another woman told me how she was trickin' in newark new jersey. living in an abandoned building with the raccoons, using bucket for a toilet.not using condoms to protect her from hiv/aids or hep. she lived there for two years before she finally succumbed to the misery and went for help, last month she celebrated two and a half years clean.she said she used to feel sorry for us men because we had to rob and steal and hustle to get ours.that she was special because of "what she had between her legs." she suffered a miscarriage a couple months ago, and she was riding the bus through the dope spot. she said she thought about getting off the bus to cop a bag, but she didn't have any money, so her addiction reminded her of how she used to get her dope,"i had already bought me another pair of knee pads." she said with disgust,she 'teven got high yet,so she ran to a meeting instead of going right into work.
the other night a girl i know,went to see a band from the 80's that she liked. the drummer broke out some crack and before she knew what she was doing she had let the whole band fuck her,while her boyfriend was there,just to get some more. i was disgusted while she told me she was trying to hurry to wash all of the cum off of her before her boyfriend came back in to the room.
i could go on for ever with stories like that.staying clean is a constant struggle,an even harder struggle than trying to stay high.