i told him i did not have any money to donate, but that if i ever did have money, which i think i will some day, that i would donate. he kept talking about the extreme poverty they were in and did not seem to understand that when i say i have no money to donate right now, that i mean that. maybe i am SUPPOSED to have money, and i know i have a computer and an apartment and other "things" so i know i am not living in any kind of horror situation like the children he is trying to help, but the things i have were GIVEN to me, not bought by me, and i live in the projects pretty much, it is government housing, and what little money i have left over after i pay the rent and bills is usually JUST enough for me to eat every day and maybe treat myself to
one or two things, and when i say things, i don't mean big screen tv's or new cars or computers or hardware or cameras or furniture or stereos or anything like that, i mean a CD and a book or a DVD and 1 trip to the MOVIE theatre or a small canvas and some cheap paint or a couple t-shirts or ONE pair of jeans... if i spend any more money than that, i end up starving at the end of the month, or at least having to shamefully ask my parents to spot me money which i have unfortunately never been able to pay them back for. which is why i try to avoid that route at all costs.
fortunately i do not, and have never been addicted to any kind of madly expensive or highly addictive drug, like say, heroin or cocaine. i've tried them both a couple times but thank god i never kept at them. i was an alcoholic for quite while, but fortunately, alcohol is pretty cheap and safe to get. (the way i was drinking wasn't really safe, but i didn't have to go into the most dangerous hoods of boston to get a "fix". i could go to any store on any corner, and if i couldn't afford any more alcohol, i could always find people who had some and would share)
anyway, my never getting addicted to expensive hardcore drugs kept me away from a real life of crime. i used to shoplift a lot in middle school, and even up until a few years ago on rare occasion, an urge would come over me to "take" something that wasn't mine, and i would. however, i eventually realized i had a lot of guilt over what i was doing and it brought a lot of bad karma my way. i haven't stolen anything in quite some time, and that has helped me a lot in healing my soul the way i have. but even when i did steal, it was little things... like a CD or a book or a toy or a necklace or a candy bar... etc etc. like the kind of little things i now limit myself to buying 2 of each month. not that it being "little stuff" made it okay to steal it, but considering how bad my guilt and karma was from those things, it must be a million times worse to be a junky with a $500 a day habit living on the streets and you have to break into houses and steal big screen tv's and cars and stereo systems and all that big shit and sell it for far less than it is worth to a pawn shop or to gangsters EVERY day just to get some powder to shoot into your arm and the more bad shit you do, the worse you feel and the more you NEED to shoot that shit in your vein until you end up dead or in jail for robbery. if you end up in jail for robbery, you meet people in gangs who convince you that if you join a gang, you have some protection, "we have your back" and "we can get you a job where all you have to do is shoot 1 person in the foot in a back alley where no one will see and we will be there to pick you up and get you the fuck out of there before anyone has any idea what happens, and you will be rewarded $5,000" for shooting this dude in the foot" and that starts to sound really good. it sounds a lot safer, easier and pays far better than robbing houses, which is what landed the junky in jail in the first place, so the junky says "hell yeah, i'll join the gang" but then when the junky gets out of jail and back on the junk and is now in the gang and has his first assignment to shoot some fool in the foot, he's so nervous AND fucked up on drugs, that he completely misses the foot, and shoots the ground, but now the fool sees the junky, so he's now a WITNESS, so now the junky has to run after the fool who is running away and the junky keeps shooting, and the gangsters who were supposed to have his back and be waiting for him in a car, speed off cuz things did not work out as planned and they want no part in what is now clearly going to end as murder, and not a foot injury as planned, and well.... yeah. so thank FUCKIN god that i never got into that shit.
i love weed. weed is a plant. it's a weed in fact, and although there are people way high up in the weed business who do make a lot of money, i've always just bought it off people who get it from people who get it from people who get it from people and so i have never really been part of any kind of scene where i have ever had to do anything that corrupted my morals to SUCH an extreme where i'd ever get to a point where i got so numb to shit where i ever thought it was okay to harm another human being.
oh, and there's other perspectives, like people who get addicted to drugs but they know shooting people is wrong, but they decide they are willing to sell their bodies for drug money and end up getting gang raped or with AIDS. i had the first happen to me a couple times when i was a pre-teen and first started trying drugs but when i was gang raped, my hero, a family member, found out about it and he tried to do something about it and he ended up getting killed over it, and my guilt over that, even though i didn't realize what was going on at the time... i could FEEL it inside me and i felt so incredibly horrible about it that i made my first suicide attempt not long after, at age 13.
but thankfully i did not end up with AIDS and that i only remained in the whore business for about a year, but that hurt my soul so so badly. i understand why they get addicted to crack just to numb that pain and to fuck up their brains so badly that they can't even think about what is happening to them in the back allies by disgusting men...
and the other option, if you don't wanna be a gangster with a gun and be killing people, and you don't want to whore yourself, which are both like the EXTREMES, then you end up dealing drugs. it sounds like a great plan... you get free drugs, you get invited to parties, everyone LOVES you cuz you got the shit... so it sounds ideal. but if you are greedy or a junky, selling weed isn't gonna feel like a big enough business. if you are greedy and you want the fancy cars that the gangsters or the pimps drive around in, selling weed isn't gonna be enough business for you, and if you are a junky and you have a $500 a day habit, selling weed isn't gonna be enough business for you. so you either become a part time gangster, pimp, or whore OR you start selling the addictive drugs like crack, cocaine, and heroin. (or if you are from a suburban/ upper class gang you can get your hands on oxycontin and other opiate prescription pills or benzos and stuff like that that is legal if prescribed by a doctor, but the rich kids get them from THEIR gangs and sell it on the street)
anyway, so now you are selling addictive drugs and making all kinds of money, but suddenly your friends are dying of heroin overdoses or getting murdered on the streets trying to figure out a way to get the money to pay YOU to get their fix and suddenly, the "cool" route of being a drug dealer is just as bad for your soul, if not worse than shooting people or whoring yourself... and well, what a fucking mess and thank god i never became overly caught up in any of it.
ironically, most people caught up in that scene tend to have a lot more money than me, and they go out at night and chill in the bars and clubs and parties and all that shit. i've never really been into bars, i've never been to a club and i've only ever been to 2 real "parties" and 1 was my little sister's when i was supposed to be "babysitting" her kind of. (she was about 15)
so anyway, i was never part of any of the scenes. i almost never leave the house. i spend all day talking on the internet with other people who are also not at the clubs and bars and shit like that, but as it turns out, the friendships i've made with these "strangers" all over the world on their computers are a million times stronger than most friendships people i know make in the world by going to bars and clubs and parties, because there is so much bad energy going on with all that...
of course, i was always in the hospitals, because i was so full of self hate for so long because i WASN'T "part" of any scenes and was always alone and lonely, as computer friends are great, but they aren't face to face human contact, which is also EXTREMELY important... anyway, in the hospitals i met others who were so burnt out from the "game" and who so desperately wanted and needed to get out of it and just be themselves, but the game ALWAYS tries it's damned hardest to pull you back in, and so i lost many of my soul mates, good people trying to get out of the bullshit, to suicide, because they couldn't get out no matter how hard they tried, and those who didn't end up dead, well they were in and out of the psych wards as often as me. i called them the "frequent fliers", the people i could almost COUNT ON running into whenever i was hospitalized and they became my family, and i got to a point where my main vice, my "crack" if you will, was being hospitalized, because to me, that was where i was safe. that was home.... but after the first 35 hospitalizations or so, some of the good hearted staff people were becoming what felt at the time was almost mean, telling me to grow up and get the hell out of the system, cuz i was only making shit worse for myself and everyone else... because as it turns out, there were some shady people studying the way my brain worked and what my "triggers" were and using me as a lab rat to test drugs and medications, and "spies" who were kind of like whores, who would act like the sweetest people you ever met, just to get you to open up to them and find out how much you "knew" about the GAME... and well, i know a LOT... i knew the MOST, and so they stopped sending me to the first hospital i found comfort in, and sent me to a new place where i was less understood, but as time went on and 35 hospitalizations THERE, where i'd gotten to know THEIR frequent fliers, some of which were the frequent fliers from the last hospital who'd also been shipped off to the new one... well, soon the good guys on staff were REALLY starting to understand what was going on, and eventually i got sent back to the capital hospital... where the REAL studying went on, and they got to know my brain more and more, and the more people realized how much i understood shit, the more SOME of them wanted me DEAD. and they eventually did try to kill me, but here i am. alive as ever and have not been hospitalized in 2 years, which is the longest i've gone without hospitalization since i was 15 years old and i am 31 now. and i ain't going back. the only way i will step foot in a psych ward now would be to visit someone or to work there.
but it's been quite a journey. the "spies" who were studying my brain and tried to kill me and all that shit are also the one's who most likely stole some of my art the last time i was hospitalized and they probably are now in custody of the art i left at spy pond when i swam to the island and got back everything BUT the art, but the part that always keeps me laughing, sometimes like a "madman" i will laugh so hard about it is that they can read EVERY SINGLE paper ever written about me by doctors, EVERY therapy sheet i filled out with honest answers and passed in and is in my files. they can hire Harvard experts to study my files and my art they stole from me and they can analyze that shit until the cows come home for all i care because no matter HOW much information i may have given them, they are NOT me and they do NOT have MY brain. they TRIED. oh, how hard they tried to take my brain, but all they got were fragments. they will NEVER beat me with their corrupt souls. they figured out from my brain and brains like mine what kinds of things would trigger people to get addicted to drugs and join gangs and whore themselves and keep us down in the hole while they profited off the war in which THEY created by pegging us against eachother and making it so that we trust no one and do what we have to do in order to feed ourselves and our families and they just got richer and richer and richer, the more we killed eachother and ourselves, the worse our souls got, the more we needed drugs, whether street drugs or psych meds and they got so disgustingly wealthy off OUR misery but fuck those assholes, cuz what they didn't realize when they broke me was that i had to BREAK in order to break FREE and now that i broke free, and i know who i am, i'm gonna make shit right again. keep the faith....
but for the MOMENT, please don't ask me for money for your organizations, as much as i'd love to help, i am still living on the "dole" and i need every dime i have to eat... but my suspicions tell me i will soon be "disgustingly" wealthy, at which point, i will spread that wealth around to HELP people instead of profiting off their misery because i have no desire to be rich. i never have. i wouldn't mind a better computer with a good photoshop program to do my art or a nicer camera that i can make poster sized prints out of my photos and get more unique shots than with my decent camera, or money to buy huge canvas and better paint to make art for museums that will stand the test of time, or a nice stereo system to hear my music the way it was intended, etc... stuff like that WOULD be great if i had money, but if i become as disgustingly rich as i suspect i might be, getting those basic things which i currently cannot afford, would cost me an equivalent to like, FAR less than a penny a year on my current income to get the few luxury things i would ideally like in order to be a successful artist... and the rest of the money i would use to make the world better, including helping other artists, because art is good for the soul and healthy souls means no one can profit off our misery, you dig?
so although i DO suspect i may soon be disgustingly rich, there is nothing disgusting about my soul, not even in the slightest anymore. it was bad off for awhile but it is THE STRONGEST soul in the WORLD right now. i have no desire to be worshiped or for anything greedy or hateful or morally wrong. i just want to live in a world where we don't have to be afraid all the time or guilty all the time or angry or sad or confused all the time... i just want peace and love and acceptance and TO END THIS FUCKING WAR!!!!!!!!
but even if i had to live the rest of my life on the amount of money i do now, eating twice a day and buying myself 2 small treats a month, i would still be perfectly happy. i have never been a brat (except maybe age 11-13 as most kids are) and MAYBE i am slightly spoiled, but i dunno, cuz i've always been pretty good. considering my lack of gainful employment and my hospital stints and my past addiction issues, and the extreme PTSD and my formerly scattered brain (which i recently managed to finish organizing)... all these things combined and all the others unmentioned, would cause MOST people to be living on the streets running in gangs and eventually dying, yet i managed to get housing because i have no criminal record, because i never got in fights and tended to steer clear of people who did "stupid shit" and because i am a good driver and i pay my bills every month instead of spending it all on drugs, etc. i have manged to maintain a livable lifestyle with no EXTRA money to spare, but enough to get by and to be happy. so even if i lived this way forever, i'd be perfectly content, but i would LOVE to see all that money that those assholes made putting us at war with eachother and profiting off our misery so i could put it to good use for once. fix this world and end World War III which we are currently ALREADY in even though nobody is calling it that.
PEACE AND LOVE, Jymi Cliche