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I am a 31 year old male from the Boston area, raised by the War On Drugs and Nancy Reagan's "JUST SAY NO" rhetoric in this our Free (Police) States of the United. I was brought up with a steady diet of propaganda and falsehoods--drugs in any form (other that the ones the state can effectively tax and regulate) would cause death or demise at the onset of the first digestion. Refer Madness!

Drug "Education"

Smoking a joint will cause you to hallucinate, trying H just once will cause addiction, sitters on LSD cook babies in ovens. All of this propaganda worked on me--when I was a child, in no danger of taking drugs anyway because I didn't have any money.

Truth is Stronger Than "Education"

When I got older, I had money. I first lifted the blind fold of "drug education" in the seventh grade, and tried weed. It was like loosing my faith. I assumed that if they had lied to me about smoking this joint, they must have lied to me about other drugs. From weed, I graduated a year later to cocaine. A year after that LSD, mescaline, psilocybin, whatever I could. In each case, drug education was not education; it was indoctrination. Every thing they had taught me was wrong--exaggerations built on distortions plopped on a foundation of lies.

The only things that I had not tried were Heroin and PCP. Heroin still had the the 1970s and 1980s stigma of being dirty and diseased. I still have not tried PCP, figuring that I'll save the embalming fluid for when I'm dead.

After high school, I set myself up with quite the profitable import/export business. I was procuring all the above for a large group of friends and friends of friends. Around 1994 I had set up an operation with some acquaintances that were shipping large quantities of very kind bud from San Diego.

Reevaluating Heroin

My new business partners were clean cut guys with money in their pockets: girls, cars, the whole deal. So I was surprised when one night they pulled some containers from their pockets: plastic bags with a cute little devil holding a pitchfork printed on each. They started snorting the contents.

I asked what they were doing.

Heroin, they told me without emotion.

What! I couldn't believe it. These were not dirty scum-bag junkies. They were not pulling out little kits w/glass syringes that had to be assembled like some kind of sniper rifle. We weren't in a dark dingy hotel room with roaches and a bright neon sign blinking in the window! How could they be doing heroin?

Was heroin just another lie? Here were young men, in all appearances your typical American (minus the fact--or maybe not--that they sold huge quantities of Mary Jane). Regular guys doing heroin and living what seemed to be a normal non-addicted lives?

I don't have to tell you, it didn't take a twisting of the arm to get me to indulge. My "friend" opened one of the little bags, split it into two lines, and handed me a rolled up hundred dollar bill. I snorted. I use the term "friend" loosely, because anyone who would turn someone on to smack is not a friend; but I thought of him as a friend at the time.

Peace on Earth

This was the best high I had ever experienced. I was wrecked. Every time I even thought of moving I was running to the toilet to throw up my guts--this should have been a sign, when I was still it was the best feeling I had ever had. Better than sex. I was hooked, but not in the addicted sense of the word. I guess it is better said that I was in love.

The Love Affair

I continued this love affair for about a year. Snorting on weekends, taking a couple grams on a week vacation. I used the wonder drug to enhance whatever significant event I had planed--swinging parties or other notable sexual encounters, like nights at my favorite fetish club, The Man-Ray.

Conclusion: Heroin Is Great

This stuff was harmless! Once again the fascist, monarchal, police state in which we live had mislead its people in another New Deal neo-Nazi National Socialist Party propaganda campaign. With my third eye now armed with new clarity, I would never again fall victim.

Trouble Begins

Approximately a year and a half later, I found myself surrounded with people who also had intimate relationships with the lady H. Many had solidified their love affair in engagement. Many more had been married years before, with Lady H being injected into them many times per day.

As I had mentioned, this whole courtship started in 1994 The H on the street in Lowell (which was the location of the best stuff in Massachusetts) had a purity level of between 80 and 94%. People were dropping like flies and the city took it upon themselves to test the dope. And like all good junkies, when we heard of an OD, the fist thing we asked was what was the stamp on the bag? This was not for safety's sake; we wanted to know where to get the killer dope.

My friends were getting higher off one bag shooting than I was off four bags snorting. It was just a matter of economics and time. Soon I was injecting.

Conclusion: Heroin Is Addictive

I was hooked. This time in the addicted sense of the word--the very addicted sense. It didn't take long before I went from having a monkey on my back to having a gorilla. I was an out of control junk-box. I was shooting enough to kill a horse. During this period, I overdosed on many occasions, had two girls die while using with me, and increased my drug use to include speed balls, straight coke, MDMA and what ever else I could fit in a syringe or stuff in my face. I was on a wild ride, doing H from Canada to Mexico and everywhere in-between. But you can only go on like that so long.

I am now clean and have been at least a hundred times since. I battle with addiction every day of my life--and will until the day that I die. I just pray that I'm not addicted to junk at the time.

Truth is not Simple

I guess everything was a lie. What my parents and the government told me was a lie. What I told myself as a result was a lie. And heroin was the biggest lie of all. I think if I had been told the truth--if it was told to me straight: I would have made better, more informed decisions about what and how I put substances into my body.

Knowledge is the Answer

But people are afraid to tell you the truth. It might put ideas in your head. Freewill is fine for those in power. But the masses can't be trusted with it. The "Hear no evil; see no evil; speak no evil" philosophy teaches only that education is evil. And if that's the case, why teach us? Just put us in jails where we have complete, un-hindered freewill to do nothing at all.

Education is a strong force. Educate yourself, and educate your children. You have only intolerance to lose.

by Jason © 2003
Last Modified: 10 January 2004