Drugs
Drugs are money.
Money is power.
Simply put, that’s just the way it is.
It’s sick, really. Drug addicts, living on the streets of New York, LA, Las Vegas… wherever there’s a lot of people, begging for money, to “buy some food”, or “to buy some decent clothes”, whatever. But you and me, we know what they really want. Drugs.
I have seen too many lives destroyed to drugs. Just recently, a friend of one of my friends got sent to the Psychiatric Ward because of her addiction to drugs. She overdosed on caffine pills and got picked up in an ambulance and got rushed to the hospital. Now, I got to tell you, the first time I heard my friend state this truth, I almost laughed and said, “Serves her right!”. But of course, I caught myself.
And I ask, “Why?
“Why would someone destroy their life, just to get a buzz? Or to fit in with friends?”
And then the answer hits me. It’s obviously so “cool” for people to overdose on pills, (or take any in the first place), be rushed down to the hospital to get their stomachs pumped, go to the Psychiatric Ward for a week, come back and do it all again.
Did I even mention how they pump your stomach out? They make you drink liquid charcoal and when you throw it up, (you almost always do) they put a tube down your nose, into your stomach, and force-feed you charcoal.
Is that not great or what? Still want to get high to get to say “I ate charcoal!” to all your friends? Is that not cool or what?
Having spent time in the Psychiatric Ward, (not for overdosing, thank-you-very-much) and having a roommate who actually went through the charcoal process, I must say she was not impressed with the idea of overdosing again (although she had done it once before…). Not to mention, she spent all night, puking and pooping to get the charcoal out. (She was gross when I first saw her. Hair all messed up, make-up screwed up, clothes screwed up, and such…)
I have noticed, as well, that “weed” is the choice product of 7th through 12th graders here in Minnesota. It’s as if there’s some restaurant for druggies. “Le Café au Drugge” it would be called. The waiter, a tall French man, with no skin on his bones, would come up to the table. “Hallo! Velcome to zee Café au Drugge. Today’s special is “weed” served with a side dish of alcohol. C’est magnifique! Would you like a list of wines?” And the customer would answer, “The special sounds good to me.” And would turn to his girlfriend/friend, and would ask, “What about you?” The partner would answer, “ ‘Le cocaine’ sounds like a wonderful dish. Oh, and could I get about twenty Budwiesers to go?” “Certainly, madame. I shall come with your orders in twenty minutes.”
While they would wait, they would munch on maggots and flies absentmindedly, because they were confused already.
I saw a video once. On it, it had a scene where children go to the drug addicted newborns section of the hospital. Each screamed for the cocaine it wanted, but could not have. It was sad and sick. How could a mother let her children suffer so much pain?
So, in closing, I ask you: Why is it so “cool” to do drugs?
