People who do DOPE - who truly DO DOPE - who have either stopped caring about anyone or anything but the drug, or who owing to unfortunate accident of physiology or psychological constitution simply become enslaved to it, all will describe their lives in identical terms. Not substantively, temporally. They will opine sometimes about, ‘‘How I was…before’’ or ‘‘When I didn’t have a habit’’ or ‘‘Before I fucked with dope’’. Regardless of age, sex, class, vocation, they (WE rather) ALL do it. When I was several years into my own heroin habit, when other addicts would come into my orbit - sometimes staying with me - I’d ask them, ‘‘What were you - BEFORE’’. And every single one knew exactly what I was talking about.
You become a VAMPIRE. Vampirism - as described in legend - is disgusting. Its a state of living death, the ghouls in question only animated by a constant NEED for sustenance. Vampires eat humans. So do dope FIENDS. I rationalized my habit - what I had to DO in service of it - on grounds that the people I hurt (and they were many) were in the GAME - none were female, none were children, none were ‘‘CIVILIANS’’. You feel yourself losing that last bit of human social morality. I lived with a girl who was beautiful - I never touched her, I let her stay around because she kept good house and I could send her to cop. She told me she’d only had one boyfriend, ‘‘Before’’. Then she started sucking guys off when she needed to get RIGHT but wouldn’t let them fuck her in the pussy. Then she let them fuck her. Now she’d do - in her words - ‘‘Whatever’’. I told her I understood - I was beginning to see people as not people anymore. I was going to start eating them. I could not stop myself. She gave me a resigned, and sad look.
The next day when I awoke, she was gone. An origami bird was on the bed (she was half Korean). She knew that eventually I’d either get off DOPE or I’d HARM her if she stayed. Neither was an acceptable outcome for a VAMPIRE.
Went through a similar situation, early 2000's. The vampire metaphor is spot on. At 65, through the Grace of God, I'm still here. I love your style, Sir. Through your video, and now literary presence, I feel a kinship with your sensibility. Keep it commin, Brother. And fuggum if they take joke!
Newish consumer of your stuff enjoyed your 3R stuff with Pete. I too was a vampire in nyc 80’s lower East side. 58 now. This was an old poem we all could recite by heart back then.
So now, little man, you've grown tired of grass LSD, goofballs, cocaine and hash,
and someone, pretending to be a true friend, said, "I'll introduce you to Miss Heroin."
Well honey, before you start fooling with me, just let me inform you of how it will be.
For I will seduce you and make you my slave,
I've sent men much stronger than you to their graves. You think you could never become a disgrace,
and end up addicted to Poppy seed waste.
So you'll start inhaling me one afternoon,
you'll take me into your arms very soon.
And once I've entered deep down in your veins, The craving will nearly drive you insane.
You'll swindle your mother and just for a buck. You'll turn into something vile and corrupt.
You'll mug and you'll steal for my narcotic charm, and feel contentment when I'm in your arms.
The day, when you realize the monster you've grown, you'll solemnly swear to leave me alone.
If you think you've got that mystical knack,
then sweetie, just try getting me off your back.
The vomit, the cramps, your gut tied in knots.
The jangling nerves screaming for one more shot. The hot chills and cold sweats, withdrawal pains, can only be saved by my little white grains.
There's no other way, and there's no need to look, for deep down inside you know you are hooked. You'll desperately run to the pushers and then, you'll welcome me back to your arms once again.
And you will return just as I foretold!
I know that you'll give me your body and soul.
You'll give up your morals, your conscience, your heart. And you will be mine until, "Death Do Us Part"
(Take me in your arms – Miss Heroin) Anonymous