Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Choose Life

Choose life. 

It is true. You cannot simply choose both life and heroin addiction, and the reasons are still none. It is not easy to trade the needle in for the sun. Being addicted to heroin is a full time job. It is not taking the easy way out or finding an angle. It is dangerous, draining, torturous fun. The brains reward system is rewired to one that needs opiates as much as it needs water, food, shelter, friends, work, hobbies and those other human needs. Basically you have added another basic need to your life, one that consumes you till you are defeated. Now heroin dependency prescribed in a legal country who knows what could happen, or rather what dangers could be avoided? Choose heroin and live life. Imagine this when compared to expensive, illegal heroin addiction.

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Thursday, September 8, 2016

The Life of Mr B. Fair

23rd October 2011

An ode to thy right Bilateral vein. 

The only train track scared vein IV mark area that entirely collapsed was my personal favorite, "my main vein", the upper elbow blue tube - to heaven. The treasure map of scar-tissue marked the spot where two thirds of all those thousands of 5 second countdown to utopia injections inevitably had to be delivered via, right?,
Image result for syringe after multiple uses (I know and the miserable moments) which were regrettably often as an addict sometimes has to do - with my old re-used then re-sterilized syringes (never more than 5 times though eek). Or what I've seen other people who took no vein care at all do. For example, Stab their way violently into their neck with a "butterfly" needle for the umpteenth time or until they register that monstrous neck vein - their sad last resort; or hear people jokingly refer to what they would call (down under) as their "trusty-rusty", that one syringe that they always had hidden on them, just in case they couldn't go to a pharmacy or similar dispensary after scoring - such is the exigency of heroin. As my cell mate Ivan (the terrible) in Hakea would learn - trying to anally smuggle two ml syringes of heroin in...but that story is still to come.

 God blessed me with two of these Bilateral veins. It took many thousands of injections before she finally gave out after many years hard labor, millions of years of evolution  made it so. A lifetime like mine, One with several thousand holes in it. Truth be told I had another week left before the wake up call of a lifetime. In one week I would be woken up by the armed robbery squad and would have other worries...

Mr B. Fair

Thursday, September 1, 2016

The Life of Mr B. Fair

November 2011. Perth 

How to accidentally smuggle drugs into a prison. prelude

Whilst inside Hakea Prison there were lots of drugs. One of my many cell mates got me high on weed most evenings after lock-down for example (on the one condition I told no-one:). I accidentally had to smuggle some tabs of LSD in myself when fate gave me the chance.

Image result for LSDDuring my initial arrest I had realized I had amazingly, maybe due to my passive stoned nature, had not even been properly searched yet, whilst sitting in my very own glass holding box, small so I couldn't move or lie down.

 I suddenly felt panic set in as I realized I still had "tabs" of LSD inside my prescription Xanax bottle - which had one 2 mg alprazolam bar left inside, this was no emergency this was fine, at the time not even a tight schedule 8 drug as it is now - and, but, and, but, Ohh dear there was the LSD; an Australian illegal schedule 9 drug and there were then the corollary legal charges inside that which also applied...  damn damn damn. So

To avoid all this fucking stupid red tape.

I quickly asked the officer watching me for a drink of water, whilst the only other cop who could see me was typing on his computer. The other AR squad detectives on duty, well I just hoped none would walk past me. It was now that I would execute my master plan, or it was never.

As the officer turned around to stroll toward the water dispensing machine I figured I had ten seconds. I took the Xanax bottle out. Popped the lid and slid out the baggie with the LSD. Initially I just slipped it straight into my sock for now, phew.

 I looked up, no cops had happened past, the water boy had been filling a cup with water so presumably, ahhhg, was about to turn around. The cop that might see me was still typing and so I pushed the LSD further down into the deepest sole of my shoe - the places where two latter searches failed to find it, IT WAS HIDDEN.

For now it would rest there until I said otherwise. phew. Now with the officer returning with my water, I kindly finished "adjusting" my shoelaces, smiled up and said, to the detective, passing him the empty Xanax bottle, relaying my honest "thank you" - thinking to myself. Jesus fuck, I do need a strong relaxant now. After all the previous days bullshit, since my arrest. It was time to stop any imminent panic attacks.

And to think what if they still found it? Where was I headed? I still had to get the LSD from the shoes that I no longer had, into the prison to which I now knew I was probably going for a while. Where they strip search everyone - cant wait for that.

Image result for hakea insideImage result for prison bars hakea\
Thanks for reading. Written by Capt. B. Fair. (1st Waffen 3FS DIV, 1st BFR)