DRUGS A-Z

As a junkie, I have been surrounded by junkies. One thing  I`ve noticed is how damned talented we are. Artists, musicians, dancers, book keepers or screw drivers- we, ALL as people have a desire, a dream, a talent, a hobby or simply an ability of  looking good on camera…

That`s the point of my project: we are not worthless.

Join us. Mail me. I need: cameras, girls, boys, microphones, computers, artists, musicians, writers, dumb-asses,- I need you all. Cause all of you have got something to give.

WE WANT YOU!!!

Reacruit your ass now!

Name of the film? S (sound of mixing paint, then the spraying) “SPRAY”  PRAY; alt. SP…RAY?

First 5 minutes of the film:

Gray, gray and gray flashes by the windows of a tram. Columns under the bridges, industrial walls, ghettoes, asphalt, concrete, cement, parking lots- all the rainbow shades of gray. Maybe faces of the people- also gray and diffused, unfocused, dull.

  Eventually coming into a tunnel (one before Chalmers) and gradually turning black, when a bright yellow lettering appears one by one: “SPRAY”. A slight pause between the letters:”S” and the…

Sound: -Industrial minimalistic techno. The sound of the tram wheels going as the prime beat with a high volume background sound of a spray can( the metal ball shaking to mix the paint, then the ssssshh- both are remixed into the main soundtrack: bum, bum, bum, above the chtchshhh, chtchshhh, chtchshhh of the wheels, topped by the metal ball bouncing in the can. All the live samples, except for the heavy industrial beat-120Bpm).

Eventually using a word play either with” pray” or ”ray” by making a secondary pause between SP and RAY. 

CCostume design (scene 1): Use the riot hood-jacket (Vexed Generation; I got one to lend for the film)  with a full-zip-up, so that the face is completely covered up.  Get an interview with a heavy feeling of Mujahedeen terrorists interrogation:

DDark grayish room. A person is sitting tied to a chair, wearing the riot gear, covering the face. The interrogator’s voice:

–What`s your name? (Middle aged man)

-My name matters not. I am whatever you call me. I am your child and we are an army.

-What the fuck do you mean?

-What do You mean? (stressing on “you”)

-Fuck off…

-You too.

-U2? Have you heard their song-”in the name of love”? (asking with a softer voice; an attempt of establishing “the connection” with a teenager)

-Yeah… It’s all right… (sounding bored)

-So… You know that what you`re doing is illegal?

-It`s kind of the whole point, amongst others… (pause) - If it had been legal- it would be just another  chore and not much to talk about, now would it?

-I assume then,  that you are not that excited about the city offering you punks a few walls for the legal graffiti?

-No, excited am I not. The whole point would be lost. It would be the city wall decoration. Another  job. May it be more creative than screwing two metal planks together, pretending to be a machine. Still- it wouldn`t be quite the grafitti as we love it.

-So… What is graffiti then?

-I can tell you what it`s not  for a starter… It`s not a public property destruction. Nor it is a form of vandalism. We are not sabotaging anything. Although maybe we should be, you brainwashed fucks. It is however an artistic expression of the free spirit- of an individual standing against the conveyer belt. You know- the one Henry Ford presumably invented- paving the million miles long high way of concrete… Yeah- you wouldn`t get it if you tried.

-What Do you mean, you tricky dickey piece of shit?

-Sir! Please be so kind as not to express though self in this manner!  This art form is a true folk-art amongst others.  It is raw, it is true, it`s in your face and most important- its available to anyone with a pair of  balls. Girls included.

-So the point is to be unsanctioned, uneducated, provoking, underground and illegal?

-You are beginning to get the point.  Uneducated is a bit harsh, but if you mean an art college- so yes: un flipping  educated.  

-Aren`t you alienating the majority of your audience by this?

-Yet again- that`s the point. Our audience are the conveyer belt workers on their way to do a job, that a machine in China will replace  them with any day. Faster and cheaper. 

We provide them on their way to screwing the screws- with a glimpse of something colorful, outrageous, provoking, mind boggling… While we don`t even get payed for it.

- Wait till we`re done- I`ll give you “pay”. You will be paying till you`re retired for all the property destruction… So…  You are fighting for IT to be decriminalized, yet you say that the whole point of it is being outside the law, to be underground?

-I didn`t say that we are fighting for the decriminalization. If anything that  can make us stronger, bigger and  better- it is the cops chasing us, hopefully beating the crap out of us with their wonder telescopic-sticks.

-What`s tagging?

Check the Wikipedia.  It`s kind of irritating that we  are seen as the same- whether it`s  a beautiful piece of art or a word “Cunt”, tagged on a back of a seat on a tram- it`s all the same in the blind eyes of the justice.

-So- graffiti is an art form, while tagging is the  shit, that you got nothing to do with?

-I tagged. Graffiti and tagging has the same roots, the same spirit. Perhaps not the same goals or tallent, but still- sure: we are somewhat connected. Both are the folk art at its basics. Latter may be more about marking a territory- like a dog pissing in small portions- here and there.. One may discuss whether the tagging is an art form as well as I may wonder why people pay 12000000 for a picture of a can of beans. ( Andy Warhol)

Still- people are so ridiculously attached to their gray boxes, that they are angrily ready to call the cops on their own kids to… Stop “the writing on the wall”. Tagging scares many shitless and I love it.

-Yeah. People are afraid of the unknown and the tagging represents in many shrunken minds the criminal world.

-Excuse me… Are you playing a “good cop” or really beginning to get the point? 

 Well… It is criminal. Have you seen the” FUPS” tags all over the town? It stands for Fuck You, Police State!

 No- just kidding: I don`t know what it stands for. It is shit big though… I can understand why people feel threatened by the shit like this. I think it`s kinda  cool actually… The scale, the number, the placing, the font, the envious nature of it all…

-Fuck Ups? Who are they?

-I`ll try to find out, but I won`t tell you.  They seem to be the biggest taggers in town and the FUPS must stand for something. That`s another point: what`s that all about? A criminal gang? A political group? A cultural community? A bunch of “fuck ups”? Whatever- still more interesting than the shades of suicidal gray .Work-consume-procreate-resume.

-Are you done, you shit face?

-NO. I`ll be back. An Army of us will fight your GBL spraying piece off…

The first scene- done.

*To find the largest gray concrete wall in Sweden – a nuclear plant?

*Vilka är “grafitti jägare?” Talk to them

*Generally contrast the first 20 minutes of the gray concrete suburbs and the ghettoes with the best of graff- the examples.

*A hidden camera piece: a kid going to buy red and black spray cans. Preparation for vandalism? Can a 13-year old buy one without being asked for ID, or is it like buying booze?

*Interview with “P.” or “”B”- the old boys from the early 90-es graffiti. A lot of interviews as long as it’s not boring.

*Take a few taggers from the ghettoes as well as the true artists.

* Film an actual graffiti in progress. Choose the best ones for that. Of course!

*Girl grafittie artist- must be found!

* What is the expressional desire behind the paint? – Political? Show off? Criminal? Boredom?  Getting laid? Artistic expression? Marking the territory?

*”Scene: a kid getting busted, denying that he has painted the wall, while having a print-off on the back of his jacket. Same, but with the finger prints?

* Michael Angelo’s sixteen’s chapel as a graffiti… An older dude with a beard,sneaking at night, painting a classical/religious mural with the spray cans. An insertion of a simple MS presentation-animation.

*Drug jokes: GHB/GBL, as well as sniffing the paint- getting busted with a paint on ones nose? Red nose, like the Rudolf?

*An image: a guy getting busted for spraying a concrete gray wall with an exact shade of the same gray.

*Find out who the FUPS are and build the tagging theme on that. To proclaim once existence?

*An old lady getting tagged on a tram. An animal getting tagged?

*A 5 step tutorial for graffiti: how to hold the can, mixing the colors, secure painting: cops/ toxic fumes.

*Short interview with a police department: when/how it becomes illegal . Perhaps some “confusing” questions: (what/when/how is illegal legal to paint with a can?)

-If I am tagging my own house?

-If I am tagging/desecrating  a grave, but with a consensus of the deceased  

-If I am painting a huge penis with  “fuck off you… cunt!” in the huge lettering on the roof of my villa, after my wife has dumped mua?

-Ecologically speaking? Maybe some curious fact, like that a can of spray is more deadly than the mosquitoes spray and would eradicate the malaria or some other non sense?

-Film someone elders  spraying, like my mother

-Graffiti:

a) art

b) tagging (name)

c) advertisement (web address as a tag on a tram)- legally-what happens?

d) political (cccp)

e) true vandalism: repainting the road signs, house numbers, car plates red to green on the crossings etc: no one does it- the true vandalizing?

f)painting a yard ugly?

g) The issue of fear. Vandalism, crime, gangs etc.

h)

“Fake” demonstration pro-graffiti (Pirate party boys n girls?)

A bit about the history of graffiti its styles and techniques. www.graffitiart.com?  Music and the graff, style (clothing)style (living).

*The last scene: an graff artist is asked a question. For example the mural, painted live in the movie is completed, when the camera man asks the artist:

-Did you get the permission to paint here?

-Instead of  answering, the guy sprays black over the lens   (plastic film over first), thus leaving the whole debate “open” for the viewers. As a joke, the camera man may repeat the question in the dark and get a kick between the legs: “cr ouch!”

-Buy and mix RGB colors: red, green ,blue? Or CMYK? To show the difficulty with graff: one cannot shade or blend the colors.

 -10 minutes of the film is the street interviews:

.

-Graffiti in the Moscow metro? Why not? - Because it would be like shitting in a museum; so maybe this is the answer: stop building the city so ugly.

- The grayer, the ghettoes it gets- the more graffiti it is.

THIS IS THE FIRST DRAFT/SKETCH OF THE SCRIPT FOR THE FILM. IT’S ONLY THE BEGINNING-A ONE DAYS WORK.

PLEASE MAIL OR COMMENT ANY IDEAS OR CRITICISM IN SWEDISH- IF YOU CONTRIBUTE ENOUGH- I WILL MENTION YOUR NAME AS A CO-PRODUCTION MANAGER DIRECTOR`s ASSISTANT OPERATOR. C+MON- IM DOING IT FOR FREE, BECAUSE I BELIEVE IN THE CAUSE, SO DO CONTRIBUTE IF YOU RE UP 4 IT!

OH YEAH- THIS IS IT. FOLLOWING A FEW OF MY FRIEND`S ADVICE`S I WILL NOT PUT OUT ANY MORE MATERIAL. IT`S JUST TOO GOOD- SO THIS IS A SAMPLE. ENJOY AND PLEASE ADD/CRITISIZE IN SWEDISH. I STILL THINK THAT THE FILM WILL BE MOSTLY IN SWEDISH.

Here is why I don`t like them, don`t trust them and generally afraid of them, even when leading an honest crime-free life.

Before getting into some amateurish, yet serious psycho-sociological debate here is how I got my phobia of spiders and police.

I, my dad and my older brother were taking a walk through a Tivoli park in a small town, where we were on a summer vacation. The park was closed for some reason and my dad told me to watch out for the cops or the security guards. It was probably a joke, but as a 6 year old I took it upon myself as a serious mission to be on a look out.  I don`t think I understood it then, but we were trespassing after all.

I`ve climbed up on a motionless carousel and was walking around it on a small ledge, with my face a couple of centimeters from the center column.  After a few steps, being quite tense, as I was trying to hold the balance and having the lookout job in the back of my mind… I took one more careful side step, when I was faced with two seemingly giant spiders on my eye level, millimeters from my nose.

-”They are coming!!!” – I screamed in horror, having lost any ability to think for a second. Police coming to bust us, as an expected terror, got somehow mixed with seeing the 6 legged bastards. A sheer horror and panic- like you may experience if you are feeling tense in a silent room, when hearing a loud bang.

Since then I am afraid of spiders and cops. I have an arachnophobia, but my relations to authority may actually have developed more gradually. 

I remember as a kid, seeing my uncle paying the traffic police to get out of any kinds of trouble. “Implied” drunken driving, speeding, picking up a whore, having US dollars in his pocket and generally driving a 2000/ Soviet monthly salaries-worth BMW etc.

 I was still a child, when I watched the cops beating a crap out of a teenage petty thief. As a teenager I got a few slaps and kicks on my ass. Still all that is nothing traumatic and definitely not nearly enough to develop my present attitude.

My parents may not have installed a respect for the authority, but neither have they taught me to hate the cops. However what they did was to encourage me to read books by their own example. I think that laid the grounds to the ever-questioning mind.  Depending on the books, of course.

My first hands on experience was during the Gothenburg`s G8`s riots, where I saw the pure, unchained hatred towards the peaceful demonstrators.  I saw the police working together with the neo-Nazis to pour as much violence and physical abuse on the”flower-power” activists as was possible to get away with. And more…  Read ”Bring me a Riot” chapter for the details, including the police shooting to kill at us, who had nothing with the property destruction to do (as if that would make it all right!).

I will stop my personal recollections here, because it is not my multiple arrests and even the jail time, which formed my relation to the cops. Actually I was treated mostly very fairly and decently, when actually breaking the law. My grudge is not personal.

In the early 70-es New York 3 quarters of the NYPD were convicted in participating in the heroine trade. Similar numbers showed up in the LAPD`s cocaine trade in the 80-es.  When the official numbers are 3 out four policemen convicted- it implies that basically 100% were either involved in one way or were in it with their silent approval and/or on the pay role.  History teaches us nothing- a simple fact of life. Besides- what one is supposed to do? To completely distrust the very people, who are paid to protect one from the chaos and mayhem? Of course not: one chooses to believe that those cases and those countries or states and those times are fluxes, complete exceptions from the rule. And the rule is that cops are good and honest.

Recent hidden camera recording shocked the innocent Sweden a few month ago. It showed a couple of policemen talking to each other, using harshly racist expressions, such as: “fucking niggers this, stinking Turks that”.

-How awful! - The Swedes thought. Strangely not once have I heard even a surface analysis of the matter.

So here it is: The two policemen were talking to each other amongst the group of their colleagues in a 12-man riot car. A simple fact, that means, that this kind of racism is a norm amongst the local “serve and protect” boys. Otherwise they would never have dared to speak in that manner.  Ask any Turkish or a black kid from a ghetto and they will tell you that police are extremely racist. Not because the cops all look like the Arian brotherhood, but because the ghetto folks with darker skin KNOW it and have experienced it on their own brownish skin.

 In the case of the heroine trade scandal in New York it took one insanely honest policeman.  I stress the word”insanely”, as he not only refused multimillion dollar bribes (which would be Honest enough), but went alone against the world with his life at stake. By some miracle he survived almost 10 years, being hunted by both the narcotics mafia and the police force. He knew that he was fighting the war that cannot be won: the amount of drugs kept on growing, while the number of crooked cops… Well- what do you think? Do you think that it`s something special with the New York`s humidity, that made them turn rotten?

Here is what I think:

As the religious people are in no way more moral than the non-believers, so are the police are no angels, because of their job- on the contrary!

While they are just as human as some of us: violent, dishonest, greedy, addictive, power-tripping, abusive, racist etc. They are different in a few points:

a). They have a gun (having a gun changes ones psyche- try simply shooting a few rounds) Really: try! Now imagine this m.-fucker refusing to stop, while reaching into his pocket… Even by the book-you shoot.

b). Their work is to look at the populous as the potential criminals (issues of distrust to say the least)- prejudice is a part of the job. It is this instincts, to see a “fuckin nigger” as a dealer or the “tattooed shit” as a gang member or a “red skirt bitch” as a whore that makes one a “good” cop.

c). The power trip- they Are the law. Any sort of disobedience is a crime in it self and even can get you killed. A policeman knows, that he (she?) has a right to kill a person for as little as not putting up his/her hands behind his/her head within under 5 seconds. Doctors, especially sergeants, are said to get the “god`s complex”. Basically a type of superiority psychosis. Times 10-and you have a cop.

d). Getting away with murder – believe it or not it has happened and will happen regularly. Yes- even in Sweden.

e). They are the brotherhood with the “us” against “them” mentality, very similar to the organized crime. These are not my words, but of the several psychologist, saying that the criminals and the police have a very similar mentality.

f). Daily temptation – you are offered bribes, combined with the general disillusionment when it comes to crime fighting (you fight them, jail them, bust them- but they are just getting stronger in numbers)

g). Just that- the great disillusionment: what`s the point? Maybe that is why the police work has become so cynical, according to statistics:  only 30% of the crimes are ever solved, despite the fact that the”good face” statistics are kept up by busting marijuana smoking teenagers, prostitutes and wasted petty thieves.

Instead of the guys, who smuggle in tons of dope, sell foreign girls per kilo or rob the banks as if for the candies. In other words- 3% is a more trustworthy number, when it comes to solving the actual crimes.

What do you think? I hope at least you get my point. I don`t hate cops as I don`t hate the criminals- for me they are generally one and the same and I still meet them and judge them from person to person. Still- at least the criminals are often more honest. I had a Robin Hood complex once-stripping, rebuilding and re-selling the stolen office computers cheaply, while many of the heavy duty criminals turn to god, without ”changing their ways”. Still- at least I didn`t get paid to ”serve and protect”.

Swedish police force is one of the most expensive in the world and it constantly craves more resources. G.W.Bush got his billions of dollars using the terrorism hysteria.

Police in Sweden (probably everywhere else also) uses the multimedia as the “false flag operations” pole. Open the world`s biggest news paper: “Metro”. Majority of it consists of the simple idea, repeated daily, page after page: “people are evil”. Pedophiles, rapists, murderers, thieves, cone-artists. We are self left to come to the conclusion: we need more police! Pedophile and the internet has become imprinted in the common psyche, while the truth is, that the word “church” or “priest” should hang closer together, than the www and this exceptional pervertion. If you were to trust the numbers.

It was almost a Freudian slip, when a Swedish professor of criminology admitted, that actually the number of heavy crimes has not risen significantly (not more that would be expected with a 20% population increase) in decades. People kill and rape each other about as often as they did in the 50-es.

(I wrote a piece on the statistic as being the most manipulative pseudo-science ever- if you want to dig through the archives. Point: the yellow news papers will have you convinced that every kind of evil and social illness are on the rise. Being familiar with the tricks of the trade I can convince you with the complete opposite: we are getting kinder, more caring, more generous, more open minded etc; using the same tools of the statistics.

All in all- this is why I don`t trust the police and the yellow press.  

The very few times I`ve been a victim of a crime, was as the life`s great truths proclaimes: “you live by the gun- you die by the gun” or for you , more metaphysically inclined: “what goes around, comes around”.  Even the times I was completely innocent- the thought of asking the police for help has never crossed my mind.

My  only brother was murdered… Well- I will shut up now: to honor his memory, by not making it a case in point. Except for those of you, who would say:

“huh- where would you go if your dearest and nearest was murdered?” -Certainly not to the police.

-“There are good cops!” – I`ve heard and I agree.  There are good killers also. But as I`ve mentioned- the first ones are getting paid to be good, while the others choose to get paid to be “bad”.

As with anything in this blog- I am not trying to make an anarchist out of you, I just hope that you may give it a thought.

The way to sobriety is neither straight, nor is it short and while climbing this mountain, you should expect a few things. (Don`t get pissed. In neither meaning of the word) If you are anything like I was or any other dope head.

You are/were a Liar. Your excuses may include:

a)   -you are an asshole

b)  -you feel that you must adapt to the world, because otherwise it won`t except your wasted ass. “Hi, I`m high!” is simply unacceptable.

c)    In other words: both legal and social reasons are at stake, so you  are forced to lie and while I would never steal a paper clip from a job- lying about drugs was a whole other story.

d)  You have to spare your mother`s or girlfriend`s or child`s feelings. Anyhow- from your perspective it`s not as bad and you are probably missunderstood: “they just don`t get it”.

e)   You believe your own lies. Self delusion is a huge part of drug abuse and it even has a whole life philosophy attached to it. Basically: who is to say what The Truth is?

f)     Whatever makes you feel alright and doesn`t hurt others… Works if you drop an occasional E or smoke a holiday doobie. However that`s the difference between using and abusing and this blog is mostly about abusing.

Lying may have many more other reasons, but it`s basically about avoiding the truth. Deep, huh?

  Something one often becomes truly skillful at. You may also be  excellent at keeping up the appearances-  anything from the personal  hygiene to punctuality, from  having a smile on your face, while dying inside, to doing an excellent job at work, while being at the edge of collapse. Such as was the case when I was a truck driver. 

I was so good at deception, that my own mother had no idea, that my biggest worries were not the sinking grades at the physics and math, but that I was running out of the places to stick the meth-loaded syringe into.

As such (a professional  liar) you may expect not to be trusted.  Of course!  ”Never trust a junkie” is one of the life`s “grand” lessons.  I don`t   agree with it- or rather not more or less than with ”never trust a cop, a whore, a gipsy, a communist or a.. (you fill in) .

 Don`t get mad- get even though: every time ”they” suspect” you and you prove them wrong- you get the winner`s mild sense of satisfaction.  It would all be peachy-galore (with all the self gratification through proving others suspicions to be ungrounded), except for  what I call the ”microscope effect”.

I had a ”junior microscope set” as a kid with the glass slides, which one was to put the samples on. When adjusting the focus with the side wheel, one sometimes lowered the microscope`s  lens too close to the fragile slide.  

Making it crack.

Going through the motions of the rehabilitations ` system I found the rules to be quite simple. Don`t get high and don`t get drunk or- one and the same: “don`t get wasted”.   Eventually  you will win more and more of the trust and the respect and  will get a chance of becoming  ”one of them”.  By that time this great division, this split of us and them may gradually  fade away, thus making you simply a man or a woman. Neither ”normal”, nor an ”x-junkie”- just a human.

The simple bit ends there.

Have you ever been looked in the eyes and asked compassionately:  ”How are you?” Not the courtesy `s  ”how `r ya?”, but an in depth, analytical  ”How are you? (Really? No- really? Behind all ”that” Drop the b.s. Come on! Really: who are you trying to fool?”), under the breath.  

A type of grave digging enquiry that has no happy resolve, whether one reaches the bottom or hits the hard concrete. ”Fine, thank you” is just not bad enough when one is a recovering addict  under a close observation.

Being an optimist and a generally positive guy, after quitting drugs, I got an overwhelming energy kick on top of my stand-by  joyful post suicidal persona.  My superiors, assistants,  therapists and the army of the personnel at the places I lived could only interpret it as:

a). I`m high

b). I`m faking either way, pretending or hiding something

 c). My energetic exterior is an expression of the inner stress. Inability to do simply nothing (take a 1 hour lunch break or a 40 minutes  coffee pause) is a way of escapism, where I am running from myself and the inner demons, by constantly cleaning, washing, organizing, taking a smoke etc.  

”No;  I AM fine! ” is an answer that echoed through the corridors of the mental institutions throughout the modern  history. When one is proclaimed insane or an addict, one may find one’s self in the situation, where there is no correct answer.

”Fine”- implies that you are delusional and/or in denial

”OK”- melancholic, depressed, indifferent, unresponsive. Poker faced.

Of course there is the crying: the ”admition” of one’s ”true” feelings, which is generally  considered to be somewhat of a breakthrough. However a breakthrough of the kind is only a first tiny step in the right direction out of the hellish maze one is expected to have gotten lost in, through the years of the drug abuse.

Who knows- maybe I am deluding myself, thinking and feeling fine? Maybe I have managed to avoid the self examination,  the fruits of which are bitter and sour and should wipe that smile right off my face. Until then- I am fine being fine.  After all- we are all living in some degree of denial, avoidance and illusion. Must we all scratch and break the surface until it bleeds? Who is to say that “the only gain is in pain? “ Well… actually the same people, who may say “never trust a junkie”.

”Time heals all wounds”  could be applied  here. However frustrating it may be: don`t crack, like that slide under the too close inspection is my simpleton`s advice. Even those, who are trained to zoom in on the drop of blood, may someday get tired of it and trust your smile.

Until  then the expectations of others may be a powerful  killjoy. Even when you are feeling grand and everything is peachy galore- if someone expects it to be a mask, behind which the true pain resides: when confronted, you will most probably step down a notch towards the depression. 

If someone expects you to be high- everything becomes a sign of you being just that.  Size of your pupils (small: opiates, large: CNS, amphetamines. Reddish  eyes, “dead fish” eyes, glancing, starring, watering, blinking, jerking may in turn mean: cannabis, benzo, GHB, and so on) That is only regarding your peepers! While all of the abovementioned symptoms may be a result of sleep deprivation, too much coffee or even strong emotions…

There is also the rest of your body as well as your voice or the behavior in general.  Once you slip into seeing yourself through the ” microscope”  you are likely to start behaving accordingly. Being overly self aware will make you act unnaturally, thus confirming the observer`s suspicions.  Catch 22 at its best!  The only way to break this vicious circle is by proving them wrong with the hard chemical evidence. A clean urine test. One would imagine…

I don`t want to seem like I am bitching, because I am not. I know when I feel sorry for myself and this is not the case. I am however pondering over the rules of conduct  and the ways of the rehabilitation process.

YES- stay clean and it will all be all right! Still, I have gotten so many bruises on the way (some truly deserved and a few that felt like an  “addictizm”- read racism for the addicts). A few examples:

1.   Alexei  has been positive for the synthetic heroine in over a month.- Later showed to be a  mistake in the bookkeeping . Considering that my name is close to impossible to mistake for some ones  else`s, I believe this  slump to be the “bluff tactics”. If one is suspected of taking some sort of narcotics, yet it does not show as a positive in the tests- the idea is to accuse a person, expecting a confession.  It worked wonders! Despite knowing, that I have not taken any heroine in ages, I have admitted to doing so.

I reasoned:  there is no idea of denying any test results, because the plastic card/stick with chemicals, that is deepened into the urine is hundred times more trust worthy that I am. No sarcasm intended. So whichever the result may be- “they” will consider it as a fact, which one may later choose to deny (thus lie) or to admit (thus honestly seek help), when it comes to “their” evaluation.

“Experience is the name we give to our mistakes”, said Oscar Wild. Very true, when it comes to the life under the microscope with a litmus paper up ones ass.    

According to the WWW (if you choose to believe it or not- look it up)- one out of four (25%) of the standard  urine tests give false readings in one way or another. It does not always mean that you will get busted for heroine, while you only took coke; still there is a multitude of  variables. Certain foods or medications can give false positives. Cross contamination is possible. “Rebounds’” positives (when a drug that has been taken several months ago, such as cannabis, can pop out of your fat tissue) and so on. Here I would have to agree that as they say  “one time is no time”, yet you can`t be so unlucky as to get the false positives every second week.

2.   Alexei  is positive on Methamphetamine. –Showed out  that it was the gastric prescription-free medication that I took. It does not mean that the pills contained any traces of the meth, yet as the result of some peculiar body chemistry, combined with the chemicals in the testing “stick”- it has turned water into wine.  By the way; for all you darling skeptics out there: take a couple  of the  “Inside” pills and take a piss test an hour later. Works with everyone, yet still is not a common knowledge, even amongst the hardcore testers and the testis .

3.   Alexei is cheating on his tests- the urine shows to be containing way too much water and too little of the piss itself (carotene, I believe is the correct term) implying, that I was drinking extreme amounts of water or alcohol to blend it out, making the traces of the eventual narcotics too diluted to be detectable. Turned out that I was drinking too much coffee.

4.   Alexei was suspended from his last communal  apartment for smoking. -  True; guilty as charged.  I was warned several times, yet I smoked anyway.  Point in it all being that later, when the matter was discussed amongst my caretakers, assistants, chiefs and bosses- a small detail has slipped in: Alexei  lost the room for smoking and drinking alcohol. Because I am an alcoholic and I am expected to drink . I am an alcoholic, but the point I`m driving in these expectations matters is that one has to expect such as an addict. Just deal with it.

5.   I got kicked out from the rehab for picking the psychedelic  `shrooms out in the field.  Technically I never had them with me in the rehab (got picked myself out in the field by my therapist), neither have I taken any.   Another point: as an x-junkie, don`t go after technicalities: you may drive yourself insane.

 I did not break any rules of the rehab: no drugs on the premises, never being under the influence. Still  in the official report it stated: suspended for using illicit drugs in the rehabilitation center.

There are many more cases of my being unjustly punished or suspected, while being innocent. Some heavy and depressing, others ridiculous and funny. (The house nurse was standing in front of me, sniffing my urine) However there are many cases of me being guilty as hell and getting off free, so all in all- it has all evened out, more or less, one may say. Maybe “less”, as I was accused 6 times in a row, being guilty once and admitting to it.

 One can take a relapse and get away with it. Maybe even two or three times in a row, however it never works in the long run. Either you are on with the program or not- one or the other will show itself.

So I thought…

Here was I: sober, doing my trainee job with all my might…     

Transitionally  I live in a communal home for the sober alcoholics and x- junkies. It happened to be a very Christian place. So much so, that in the toiled, there are golden plastic angels, glued to the walls, above the paper wall border line of the ”Jesus fishes”. The text under the chariots states something like ”Angels rejoice for every soul that is saved”.  Right in front of the actual toilet sit- something to think about, while you go number two.  I took a permanent marker and wrote in calligraphy:

“He watches you shit, Shame not my son! For thee crap shall not be saved as you shall be! ”.Markus 8.09  Nothing I am proud of, but here is why I am mentioning it, besides describing the overly Christian nature of the place.  You are all familiar with the deadly sins, I am sure: don`t kill, don`t fuck, don`t  desire your neighbors’ goat etc. The list had to be adjusted and updated: it is no longer alright to castrate a 12 year old boy and sodomise/rape  him  as you pleased, while watching porr over the net may have become a new millenniums`  issue.  Anyhow: the new version of the tickets to hell, according to Vatican contains amongst others: “selling drugs without taking them- dealing without being an addict; for the cash only”. The gods morals law that would put every other private doctor into one of the hot spots down there, but overlooking the technicalities- I agree: it`s not nice to consciously sell something that one considers to be too poisonous/destructive for one’s self.  Like a Mc Bacon with cheese or a 45 caliber revolver.

 I will probably dedicate a whole new chapter to this new level of moral hypocrisy, courtesy of the pope and the gang.  For now though, I just thought to tell you about today, when I was accused of committing just that: the neo-deadly sin.(N:5) The day went like this:

…I  came back to the place around three o’clock. Having mind numbing tooth ache for over a week, I tried to soften the agony by using a popular mouthwash. As a recovering addict, I am not allowed any “real” painkillers.  The Listerin  promised to solve every tooth related problem with a rinse and a spit. What the advertisement did not  mention was that it contains 20% pure alcohol.  In other words- about half of the bottle is vodka. Something that can be a problem, when one struggles to prove ones complete sobriety. As I entered the house, I`ve landed in the middle of the man hunt:

I`ve been put through the 9 circles:

1.   Blow job (alcohol test): the gadget used by them is about 1/10 of the size of the one used by the police at the traffic stops. It has about as much accuracy, which is openly stated in the manual: ”it cannot be used as a juridical (reliable) test and only gives an approximation of the alcohol amount …” In other words it`s a plus/minus something.  Last time I showed 3,5 p.m. – a number that would knock me unconscious, while 4,0 is considered to be generally deadly. They had to admit however, that not only did I not smell of the alcohol, but I by and large gave the impression of being completely sober.  Today it went the same way. Almost: I did not smell of alcohol. I did not conduct myself in any way that may point to my being under the (an) influence.  The time was 15 hours, which meant that I came almost directly from work . Yet the hunt was on…

2.   Agreeing, that the Listerine may be responsible, I was asked to show the bottle. Point being- I lied about taking it, so I didn`t have it on me. I did show it.

3.   I was asked then  to show the contents of my bag, expecting it to hide the booze.  I had to do it myself, since according to the residual  privacy  laws, a private people still cannot search each other’s property as they desire.  Apparently they can ask each other to search themselves though.

4.   I went up to my room and a few seconds later got a visit from one of the stuffs` members. He glanced at my locker and asked nicely if I had a key to it. I`ve performed a self-search yet again, opening the small plastic and cardboard  boxes and bags inside with a smile, still being unaware of the grounds to these  inspections.

5.   The talk: There were two of them waiting- the nurse and the housekeeper for the day.

 –Alexei… We have now heard 3 times from different sources that you are selling the synthetic heroine (Subutex) on the premises.

-Pardon?! You are aware that I have to leave 2 urine tests per week, so I hardly can be doing any drugs. Specially with my daily  trainee job…

- Yes, Alexei, but we don`t mean that you take the drugs yourself- just that you are dealing.  You can imagine how we look upon it.

-You are against it, I presume…- said with a slight  smile.  I knew that it was not only the wrong time to try to joke, but truly the wrong folks.  I just couldn`t find anything better to respond with. 

Or should have I explained that the 6Mg of the poor quality synthetic heroine (Subuxon) or its` French 8Mg superior relative are both prescription drugs, closely monitored by the medical stuff and can only be bought for a private use from someone, who is selling his/her own daily dose.  One, maximum three pills. This was truly not a drug to be dealing or profiting on, unless one gets it  prescribed and since I was not one on the Subutex program- I could not be selling it by any wheeling  and dealings`  logistics.

There was I- accused of something , that in their peeping Christian eyes  stood on the same line with murder, human trafficking/slavery and  torture.

Still- not least bit offended, considering the above mentioned perks of being a recovering dope head, I somewhat wondered if this was yet another  form of the “bluff` n cuff” method.

3 people, according to them have reported me as being the Subutex dealer. Having stayed in the house for only a month, I only have spoken to 3 people altogether. One of them I knew by name.  All of them were using and holding stuff daily, but none have even asked me if I knew someone who could sell something. So… obviously this was another bluff. This time however it was so beyond absurd that I just couldn`t be bothered to be bothered.

-May I go?

6. -Sure, but first you have to leave a urine test.

-I did it yesterday latest, but sure.

A few minutes later, under a watchful eye of the elderly nurse, I produced my member and went number one in a plastic cup.

7.  Alexei? - It`s  not that warm…

-  Now I was dumbstruck for real. I knew what she implied: basically that I have bought one of the 170$ rubber hollow dildos, filled it up with a clean sample and fooled the system by milking it in front of her.  Presumably I had it strapped on 24/7, just for such a pop quiz as this one.  The idea way too ridiculous even for my twisted mind, so I asked:

-Too cold?! Does it mean that I am sick?

-Njeeeaa… well… you see- some people try to fool us by using other people`s urine. You see, Alexei: I have been around for quite a while, so I am aware of these kinds of things, she said while actually sniffing my piss up close. For a moment it looked as if she was going to take a clunk.

-Ok, madam . Shall I produce one more sample?  This time you are welcome to observe even closer: I do have one more left in me, if so needed.

She didn`t answer, but asked me to follow her and wait for the results of the test.

8. Cool as a cucumber I followed to her office and watched her stopping a plastic analysis card into the yellow smellow.

-Well… Do you take any benzodiazepines?

-No. I don`t and I haven`t.

-Aw… this must be from your last hospital visit. (I did have my broken nose fixed). So this is all right. No problem there!

-Ok, sure. I went on with it, despite  knowing,  that we were both aware that the operation was for almost a week ago and the mentioned drug  goes out of the body within 3 days. Moreover I did not receive a