Life after Kingdom of Shadows

I watched last night as Kingdom of Shadows aired nationwide on PBS stations. I said something at the end of the film I now regret. It was true and it was sincere at the time, but I see things differently today.

I see a sick man in that film. Tired. Weak. Hanging on to sobriety like it’s the last sacrament on earth. I see a man beat down by the laws of our society.

Life has kicked my ass since.

At one point I suffered what I thought was a heart attack and was hospitalized only to learn that nothing was wrong with my heart; I was stressed to the point of breaking and my body shut down.

I left that hospital, after two days without a single prescription or treatment. Later, a local doctor issued me a prescription for Zanex.

I don’t take that shit.

So it went into the cabinet. I’d had dizzy spells, warning signs, preceding the event for several weeks. The signs returned.

I tried half a low-dose Zanex. First and last time. It does not work for me. I don’t like the way it makes me feel.

Shortly after New Year’s Day, 2016, while everyone else was swearing off drugs and habits, I smoked a joint. 29 years without a drink or a puff.

Since, I have tried a sip of whiskey.

They work and that’s why people use them. Both present harmful side effects, especially in an industrial environment.

I also got off my ass and went back to working hard, physically.

I feel better.

It’s not drugs I hate, it’s the goddamned business.

I am sick of the way we as a society treat drug users.

I am sick of cops and judges and lawyers and probation officers and prisons. I am sick of slimy fucks preying on immigrants, addicts. I am sick of cartels. 

I am sick of apathetic people that allow this evil to persist among us.

The war on drugs is a war on ourselves.

End it.

Now.