High-ly Confessions

“All I could remember was the hiatus of a happy state I was in --- all problems were behind me momentarily, and I was like overdosed with a happiness medication; I can die or better yet, live like it forever.”

Doped.

Perhaps there is no unconquered corner in this world where illegal drugs, don’t exist. From the highly recognized suburbs to the dirtiest slams, drugs become the new ‘food’. It supplements the hungry and boosts the confidence of the weak. It leeches into the weakest of spirits and creates a stable habitat out of it… never wanting to leave. Its annihilating effects to mankind have accelerated the government and other agencies to frame an army of laws to battle it. But you see, drugs don’t choose people, it is people who must make the choice. The problem lies on the user and not how much amount of drugs are made available for consumption. The craving to ‘eat’ becomes the enemy.

But what if the enemy becomes the friend?

“I have found peace… peace with myself, with my surroundings --- the birds, wind, water, the sky. It’s as if heaven and earth is in harmony. Most importantly, I have become one with myself.”

From the few governing Elites, to the tilling rank-and-file employees, drugs become the most promising destructive weapon to counter political pressure and issues, homelessness, loneliness, starvation and the increasing rate of mortality. If God loved the world so much that He gave His only begotten Son to save us, oh dear God, weed has become more than enough! Many claimed that they have found salvation at the happiest 24-hours of their lives… being doped. Perhaps priests and bishops should start preaching about it.

People who use and are hooked with drugs are commonly classified as the ‘misunderstoods’ for the obvious reasons that no rational being would ever even entertain using it because, like firearms, they have destructive properties. Drugs can ignite war among countries if not properly distributed. Do you think the drug business has long been dead? You’re wrong because today, it becomes the lifeblood of this very nation. It has become the air that your children breathe and I wish I can tell you that you still can do something about it.

“I don’t think people truly understand the world… how beautiful it is. Such beautiful world welcomes me to another dimension – a paradise not everyone knows. I got settled with my little space in there, I keep going back… away from those who keep fucking it up. And I don’t want anyone to take my paradise away from me. I am home.”

With the continuing evolution of man and his adaptation to the world, processes were developed and technology comes to life. Everything becomes almost perfect --- man, separating from his savage state, capable of maneuvering things yet keeping his primordial instinct: survival. Except that man wants everything for himself just as when weed becomes the new law.

“The guilt was there, yes. But I have to do what my other friends were constantly doing. They say they have created a world they deserve to live… away from dickheads, from people who only care about what people should do and what not. I want a piece of the paradise they are caving in. I want it too; because I know I deserve it too.”

“Broken glass and plates, shuttered windows… a lot of broken things and a bleeding vein but I have to live with it because we are family. I have to witness how my mother was battered almost to death but I cannot leave because she was my mother after all. That is how you keep a family. You never leave anyone behind when they are at a state where they needed you the most. But you see, you have to have something that keeps your sanity. I phoned a friend whom I know has been using it for quite awhile now. He hurriedly went up my room and happily shared the moment of happiness with me. We laughed for no reason at all. The flashed faces of a happy family lingers in my thoughts… we were laughing, all of us. I kept that moment for myself until another domestic violence erupts. I don’t think there is nothing I cannot handle knowing I have created an easy escape for myself.”

“You ever think you’re smarter than me because you’re the one who’s paying for the groceries? Because you get paid higher than me? Because you get to keep up with the utilities of this house? Because you think I’m fucked up? Bitch, you married me like this! Deal with it and live with it!”

“Music… art… they make the whole world flat – that’s what my asshole boss told me. He seemed not to be contented with how I see art. Is he the one who holds the degree? Nobody decides what is beautiful or not when you talk about art!”

“Stop talking about God, motherf**ck*r!”

“I hear these voices… pushing me to do better despite the fact that I feel like doing my best already. No excuses, they say because I’m not paying off their efforts they’re pouring. I have to study, make good and graduate with flying colors. So that they get to the stage bragging some honor shit.”

”I need to stay up late… and secure the surroundings, because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Yes, I am a cop and I use it to do my job the way they expect me to do it. And I guess I do pretty well. I just got another badge you know. They must be proud.”

“She killed herself. No, drugs killed her. We knew she had been using it for quite some time. She had been acting weird; maybe a little confused. She was different from her other siblings. She locked herself in her room and sometimes we heard her laugh alone. She had a life of her own… away from us. Until that dreaded day we found her in her own room… lifeless. She left nothing, not even a note for us to know anything. She just left.”

“You call yourself a writer? And what? You want to extort a confession from me? Then what? The police will come and arrest me? Are you nuts?!”

“Mom! What is this fucked-up woman trying to ask me?!”

“I love listening to Afroman… I think they’re the coolest. Their music dragged me to the beach… where I always want to be. I feel like having the time of my life when I’m tuning in to their music. And don’t you think I tell you this because I’m no other than high myself?”

“I like doing it with my friends. They call it ‘pot’. I call it my own rehabilitation --- from the world. I smoke it, let the smoke gets into my lungs… puffed it all the way. I liked how it takes me to a different realm. I’m not sure what happens after but the next day, a chick kept calling our house looking for me!”

“I did it once, liked the effect, and I keep coming back for more.”

Plain and simple puff and everything gets inevitable. Tell me, what else stoned the world to its greatness?

True to the heart, do you think drugs killed your children? I don’t think so. Bridge the gap. Stop pestering about the laws against the use of it. Let the laws take care of those who were apprehended. Other than that, listen… try to listen from the heart and be open to what you are about to hear. People vary with their perception of beauty, art, music, work. To sum it up, the world.

Respect begets respect. Live not to inject, but to affect.