Day One No Methadone

1999- The summer before my freshman year in high school I take my first job, bagging groceries. I am 14 years old.

2002- My mom and I flee in terror from my alcoholic father (thinks he’s part of the 53%). Aside from the abuse, he also manages to drink us into bankruptcy.

2003- I make a few mistakes, I am only 17 years old. Nevertheless I graduate high school with a 3.5 gpa, and ranked in the just at the top 100 in my class.

2003-05- Work, work, and more work. Saving for college. Pell grants don’t apply if you have a misdemeanor marijuana possession ticket on your record.

2007- Just a symester and a half from my Associates Degree and my house burns down. Along with the house; my books, clothes, and every other worldy possession i’ve ever owned is gone.

2009- I finally find a job at Burger King. Not my first choice but they are the only ones that gave me a call back. I’m kind of obliged to interview.

2011- Fired for demanding a raise, the 7.50 an hour I am making just isn’t cutting it. I routinely stand up against unfairness in the work place, and even try to organize a union. Scared to lose their jobs my co-workers couldn’t commit. Far from the unskilled labor they hired, I guess BK thought I had run my course and they no longer needed my services. With my unemployment denied and no jobs in site, things are looking pretty bleak. I guess I’ve brought this on myself.

I was part of the 53%. It seems circumstances and bad luck have conspired against me. Do I deserve nothing? The only thing I want is a chance. But these days even those are hard to come by.

What a shitty two weeks! I am still trying to adjust to having no opiates to prop myself up with. Writing has served to save my sanity but it only goes so far. Methadone has warped my brain. Some days I don’t even want to live like this. Sobriety is a tough pill to swallow,no pun intended. No, you know what, fuck it, pun intended. The one saving grace of getting clean is clarity. I have radically shifted my purpose from finding, using, and abusing narcotics to being somewhat of a secular preacher. The political injustices going on the United States and the world for that matter are real! The U.S. has been insulated, to a great degree from the coming tsunami of revolution that will cover the planet. People have speculated on the mayan 2012 event to come, and I firmly believe that the 2012 event is at hand. A mass upheaval of conscience on the part of the common folk. A taking back of the liberties and civil rights that over the course of time have been bound by corporate greed and the injustices of corrupt men.

The word capitalism stirs up people’s emotions. One -ism in a sea of -isms’. If you look at the root word of any -ism, it’s indicative of the emphasis of said -ism. Capitalism is a system based on greed. Capital/money is the most important thing in Capitalism and every social system suffers it.

We as a people have been conditioned to blindly belive that Capitalism is the only way. Not only should we defend Capitalism with out even being given a decent explaination as to why, but we should recurl at the mere mention of Socialism or Communism, or especially Anarchism.

It reminds me of the story of Sacco and Vanzetti. The pair, both Italian immigrants during the 1920’s, were essentially crucified by the justice system of the United States. The pair were only guilty of being Anarchist. They believed that only the destruction of the state could truly emancipate man. The whole story of how the justice system of the United States was manipulated and perverted to martyr two men simply for an -ism, reduced to two meager paragraphs in a text book.

I did some yard work for an elderly woman today. When I arrived the woman greeted me and set me to work! I mowed grass and raked leaves, anything she needed. Not exactly skilled labor but it does still pay. After paying me for the day’s work she offered me a glass of sweet iced tea and I couldn’t refuse. The conversation that followed was interesting to say the least.

The poor old lady, a widow, lives her life in perpetual fear. Worried to death I would step on a snake, she watched nearly my every move while I worked. She even thinks that people routinely stop and steal her gas right out of her car! She looked so sad as I pulled away, framed perfectly in the storm door, awaiting the return of her “knight in shining armor” to save her.

 Stuck in the world defined between the dropping of the atomic bomb on Japan and the turn of the century. Like the shadows seared to the walls of Hiroshima, the shockwave of the internet age has sealed her inside her small home. She lives alone, oblivious to the global village that now surrounds her.

Once upon a time,

Not too far from here.

Several men we call our fathers,

Put aside their fear.

Even though their thoughts put forth

Weren’t always taken kind,

A few that shared a common bond

Held a meeting of the minds.

There are some things above all else,

The things all men are due.

Over time and circumstance,

Laws have taken back from you.

 It started back at Dartmouth

Some two hundred years removed.

The wheels of change begin to spin

And our own courts approve.

Some fifty years from Dartmouth’s doors,

And here we are once more.

Laws enacted to protect,

Turned into a whore.

Sacred rights endowed to us,

Now given to machines.

Corporations given rights,

Men fought and died to glean.

Fast forward to just yesterday

It may have been on the news.

Corporations are “people” too,

Money can express their views.

 These “people” have no moral code

No reason to behave.

As long as profits always rise

Accountability is waived.

 If responsible to no one

Then who looks out for us?

As consumers our seats are saved

Underneath the bus.

Since corporations are “people”

Their image matters too.

Even though it’s just a show

They validate themselves for you.

 Profits are the golden rule

One that cant be trumped.

Lobby’s inside Washington

Make “politicians” out of chumps.

Paid with corporate dollars

To look the other way.

Any miss deeds brought to light

Dismissed and swept a way.

Freedom is subjective

It seems we have it made.

But concentrating wealth with the few

Allow freedoms to fade.

 This tale is an ugly one,

It cuts me like a knife.

Now at last the holy grail,

The right to patent life.

Wow! I even suprise myself sometimes. A full week of no methadone. I hate it still but i’ve been told it takes time. Time is obviously a luxury for some people. I am feeling a little better physically. Mentally however is a different story. I wake up in the morning and smoke a bowl before my feet even hit the floor. This gives me the energy to eat a little breakfast, usually cereal, and get my body’s engine humming. The longing for a pill of any kind seldom leaves my mind. I think aside from being chemically addicted I am as addicted to the process. The hunt, burning through gas, time, and cell phone minutes in an effort to locate and procure some form of opiate. Taking the pill home, smashing it down. Cutting out the perfect line. The process is just as equally exhilarating.