A bit from something I wrote sometime ago
Drugs I hate you. I hate your blindness, I hate your deception, I hate your ignorance, I hate your arrogance, I hate your appeal, I hate your attractiveness, I hate your addiction, I hate your lust, I hate your misconception, I hate your pain, I hate your discouragement, I hate your encourage, I hate your sensations, I hate your vision, I hate you and everything to do with you, and I hate that I’ve always seen you from a different perspective - from my eyes.
I’ve seen you for your worst, I’ve seen you do your thing, I’ve watched you do you thing. To me you are satan, you are every possible emotion, you are horrid. I know you for what you are. You’re a demolition, you’re persuasive, you’re possessive. You’re sly and subtle. Even marijuana, you’re a fraud, your addiction is. You’ve flooded too many of my own friends with your poison and I’ve watched them drain to nothing.
Newly 13 I was when my childhood best friend (both grew up as state athletes) approached me and asked if I wanted to smoke weed. I said no and let him go and do it after a little argument. He did it a few months later, then a few weeks, then a couple of days, then it became frequent. He was the first close friend I lost to the drug. He’s now in jail for drug related charges. That drug is marijuana.
Party drugs, meth, heroin, fuck you. Your fucking mental and physical deterioration is more insane than any emotion you attach your victim with. I’ve see you rot people, I’ve seen you kill people. You are a murderer.
First draft of a couple of pages from something I’ve been writing-
Linked arm n arm, teary-eyed, swollen throats, ‘twas farewell not goodbye. Eight weeks of brotherhood, bonding, understanding, accomplishment, learning, failure and achievement proved countless times that’s all it takes to change a life.
I was only eighteen, more baby faces than I presently am but my deepest interest in humanity was apparently evident. I had never exactly known it, I was only familiar with the enjoyment I received from running around being lunatics with my well younger cousins. I only knew this as ‘fun’ and it’s partnering emotion ‘happy’. I never understood or realised that underlying the contagious happiness I was in fact, influential. Such a simple yet effective word. However, learning to understand this was one heck of an inevitably inspiration journey.
I’ve always said my inspiration and interest came from when when I was assaulted six years ago, yet I’ve never been able to completely put my finger on it. Six years have gone by though and now I think I do understand.
See, I’ve always loved being able to be a positive role model because I’ve been fortunate enough to grow up with one, my father. My father is my hero, and what boy/son/male/man doesn’t want to be their hero at some point in their life? So if I were to say the assault was the reason I wanted to be a positive role model I’d be lying. However, it did lead me to recognise it, therefore allowing it to evolve.
I was assaulted by a group of older males under the influence of drugs and alcohol, but that shouldn’t matter. I was at our local skatepark with my group of groms and in our company was our pal thought was in a wheelchair at the time, Jaydn is his name. Jaydn came by to show of his new wheelchair as he just came out of surgery, so of course we had fun with that. Jaydn is a few years older, unfortunately he was in a car accident when he was a baby which has left his pure soul in a limited body, he’s an amazing person. Suddenly we were accompanied with a grim presence, crossing the road towards us were my soon-to-be unfortunate influences. Within a matter of minutes a glass bottle came smashing down next to us creating a flock of innocent grommets to scatter in panic and run for their own lives. Instinctively, not wanting to but GOD DAMN instinctively, I went to Jaydn’s aid. Unfortunately that was enough time for the first drug infested derelict to meet his fist with my face.
- sometimes your instincts really are on point, what I sensed made me fearful and scared, yet my discipline found the slightest drop of courage and allowed me to become counter phobic to the situation. Like a needle in a haystack, that was my courage in fear.
One blow after the other, I just dropped. Noise of the punches is what I felt - no physical pain. Curling into a ball I cradled my fear and held my courage, but my courage was helpless whilst being repetitively stomped and trampled on. I became equivalent to the dirt I was put down on. Through the skinny torn vision I had, I could see Jaydn helplessly watch on. Tears broke from his eyes as I pathetically screened for help.
The ordeal came to a conclusion when my good pal became a distraction and nervously lured them away. He was always timid and soft hearted, back then he and I were the runts. Braving his life of odds “get off him” trembled out his mouth, he was now the target. Boy did he run after that, but anyone would if they had a cackle of scavenging hyenas on the hunt for them. He led them away and he led them astray, he did a brave thing that day and it’s one of the reason he’s my best friend to this day (cheers Aidan you weirdo).
Discovering courage was a ghastly lesson. Beforehand ‘courage’ was just a word describing an ‘easy’ solution to an inevitably fearful situation/event. Easy it is not, in fact, it is and will be scarier than it’s opposed situation.
A few days later I was to return to school and it’s usual testosterone banter. Expecting to cop flack and the usual taunts for being the only skateboarder in a school of meat-headed football jocks and simpletons, instead I was confronted with handshakes and a heroic praise. My story had passed through quickly whilst I was away from school, of course it escalated through Chinese whispers, ended up somehow involving helicopters.
Things changed for me that day. It was the first time I felt the reward for being human. It was the first time I felt acceptance, and I had been accepted for my rawest persona. Humbled was the state I was left in. I was captivated by the response, it was a humane reward for my humane action.
You could not buy what I felt with all the money in the world, I would not trade what I felt for all the money in the world.
Who I was then is who I am now, and who I am finally made sense to me during that given moment.
Erm, I find it a little tough but I do enjoy it. Sometimes it is easier for me to write in a poetic form rather than a story, it allows me to just explore a single emotion. usually that’s when I’ll write poem, stops me from going off topic hahah. Nevertheless, cheers for your words
I left here for their
I left their for here
I left myself on that side of the world and came back to fear