The Junkie

Watching the needle penetrate his skin and the fluid turn the syringe from half full to half empty, he felt his pain slip away; almost instantly, he could feel everything. Not just his emotions but virtually everything. He could feel the texture of his rippled clothes, the fluff of his hair, the wide gaping holes in his shoes, the fuzz in his socks, the worn out bracelet choking his wrist, his dirt stained fingers, and even his blood. Within the walls of his veins he could feel the warm substance mixing in with his blood cells and becoming very comfortable. Maybe too comfortable. A distant relative who lives on your couch, eats your food, and only pays part of the rent once every two months. Comfortable.

He felt the parts of his body which were once very cold begin to feel warm. Warm and calm. He could feel a tingle in his arms and legs, and he liked it. He liked the moment of ecstasy when he could feel nothing at all but still feel everything at once. He liked the feeling of a warm blanket wrapping his body ten times over, inch by inch. He was aware of his surroundings more than ever now, and even became one with his environment. The floor which became his only home, the wall which had his back more than anyone now, and the rocks which became his friends when he was alone. He sat in an alley hidden behind large buildings which covered up the streets where he resided. To his left the working world, to his right the hood, and all around him the earth. The earth which he had left long ago, the earth he learned to ignore, and the earth that ignored him back. A bitter ex who won’t even smile in his direction after the break-up, even though it was civil. Ignored.

Looking up at the night sky spotted with white stars reminiscent of a Van Gogh painting, he felt two large doors open in the back of his head. They suddenly slammed and he felt a furious wind enter his empty skull and bounce around from corner to corner. As the stench of failure and years of disappointment emptied out, a fresh new smell of hope and jubilance took its place. He suddenly felt thrilled and something overcame him; he jumped to his feet. Jumped, threw his hands in the air, and spun in a circle with a smile on his face. Laughter filled the area along with this new feeling. His smile widened with every step and his eyes kept shut tight with every spin. He was home and he was free. No worries, no stress, no regrets.

All at once, just as he had jumped up, he was back down. Lying on the floor and watching the blood from his forehead drip onto the rocky pavement, he slowly felt those familiar feelings. His high, which in his mind lasted three minutes, was brought back to a reality of three hours. As he slowly crawled back to his first position when seated, he saw the empty syringe mocking him from across the floor. Retelling his failures and reminding him that the earth which brought him in, was still here. As he sat with his head buried between his knees, he wept. He wept for what felt like three hours, but in reality was only three minutes. As he wept, a familiar foul smell returned to the area, as a gust of wind with the force of a tsunami blew the fresh smell away. The only thing left was a worn out human being, tired of life and all that inhabited it.

Written By: Ulises David Acosta (@UliEntertains - all social media)

(As first seen in the IL 10th Congressional District Democrats Magazine. Issue: March, 2011)