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LETTERA DAL CARCERE -di J Incandenza (pseudonimo)

Thu, 27 Nov 2008 09:18:55 +0100

E' in inglese: per i non anglofoni un estratto qui su LETTER FROM PRISON
An Inmate Dispels Misconceptions About America's Brutal There are more than two million people behind bars in the United [Editor's note: As of June 16, 2003, the state of Hawai'i has Despite our vast numbers, we are, except for an occasional cartoon I am one of the incarcerated millions, a prisoner in what has Despite having spent many years in prison, I am not really representative I also have personal knowledge of a handful of county jails thanks I'd like to say I'm innocent, a victim of circumstance, unjustly Maybe you didn't know that. Maybe you think you know what it's Misconception 1: Courts Are Manned By Soft-As-A-Grape Judges Some shrewd PR guy in some prosecutor's office somewhere must This is especially true of drug guys. All the places I've been Misconception 2: Prison Is Some Sort Of Sodomite Bacchanalia
Misconception 3: Federal Prisons Are Country Clubs
This one really ticks me off. There is no such thing as a country-club Can you imagine a country club where 130 snoring, stinking, farting American prisons are, for the most part, overcrowded, dirty and I've spent more than a little time in county lockups. I would Speaking of the Third World, I once asked an erudite Nigerian "Absolutely horrific," he assured me. He didn't believe You tell me where you'd rather be.
Misconception 4: All Prisoners Are Stupid
This is the converse of a belief widely held in prison: That All of this aside, it has been my experience that IQ distribution My guess is that the idea that everyone in prison is stupid is I suggest, however, that the way the world is really set up is Of course, you may have to deal with the consequences. I say Misconception 5: All Prison Guards Are Misanthropic Sadists Like This is true. Not all of the guards. Maybe there are 2 or 3 percent The question I have never been able to answer to my satisfaction Many of the guards we see here are former (or failed) military I'd be willing to wager that given the choice between tossing Misconception 6: Everything Someone Needs To Survive In Prison If bare survival is the goal, that might possibly be true. But It's a problem that will soon be getting worse, because the Bureau For the fortunate in the prison population for whom crime did Misconception 7: Prison Has A Rehabilitative Effect
By removing us from the pressures and temptations of the money Given that most convicts hit the door under pressure to earn, Sanitation, for instance, is a high-priority item with all prison Laundry service is similarly tolerated by staff, who have come Along these lines, a convict who is willing and able to pay can All of this contributes to what is known as "the orderly Most hustles, however, are not so benignly regarded. Stealing, Such is not the case with gambling, which is ubiquitous. Many The first advice a newly arrived convict usually receives is There is plenty of dope in prison, which begs the question: If In most prisons, one can obtain the full array of intoxicants At a medium security facility, you'll find less heroin and wine At a camp where it is easiest to get things from the street there Besides the dope biz, other hustles you find everywhere include In here it is still all about the money, and we don't have much Misconception 8: Politicians Are Sending A Message To Potential There is a consistent refrain among the John Ashcrofts and Donald Hello out there.
No one in here is listening. Do you really think that with the These messages are spam, or junk mail, and ignored. Few of us Implicit in these messages is a misunderstanding of exactly what But it turns out that he was right, and I'm not talking about So if we're not rehabilitating, whatever that means, what are It makes perfect sense if you think about it. Take a large group The message we get by the time we're paying attention is: You're Soon a lot more people will be getting that message. The feds fuoriluogo
Incarceration System
States. One of every four black men between the ages of 20 and 30 is incarcerated. Millions are on probation or parole. In fact, one of every 32 Americans is currently caught up in the criminal justice system. In the District of Columbia, one in every three adult men is under some kind of penal supervision.
3,063 inmates here and on the Mainland. Of Hawai'i's prisoners, 21 percent are locked up for serious drug offenses and 29 percent are in jail for misdemeanor or felony drug-related crimes.]
in The New Yorker, largely ignored and completely voiceless. We exist for the popular culture mostly as the punch line of a joke.
become this country's endless War on Drugs.
of the average convict: I am white, middle-aged, educated and a federal prisoner. Many or most convicts are black or brown, have never finished high school and are states' inmates. But, I have at one time or another, been held in nine federal facilities ranging from Pennsylvania's Lewisburg Penitentiary to the camp where I am now and every sort of place in between.
entirely to the Feds' miserly attitude toward bail. (County jails are the worst; no other lockup even compares to their capacities to inflict misery. Guys celebrate the day they get transferred to a pen.) And from what I've seen in all of these stops, prison is prison and convicts are convicts.
held by a vengeful and misguided system. I'd like to, but I can't, because I'm guilty as charged. Everybody used to think it was cool when I got all those A's in Chemistry, but instead, I'll just say that not many people in jail claim to be innocent anymore. The standard line is more like, "Sure, I did it, but this sentence isn't fair."
like in here, but you're just plain wrong. Allow me to help separate you from some widely held misconceptions.
Who Dole Out Slaps On The Wrist
have come up with this one. It really doesn't work that way. Fifteen of my last 30 years have been spent in prison, the last 10 in a row. This is the result of two arrests, one in the late '70s and another on Groundhog Day, Feb. 2, 1993. I am the norm, not the exception. Don't believe all that stuff about second chances. Today it's one strike and you're out.
are full of kids doing decades or more for a few hundred dollars' worth of dope. The kid who bunks next to me - he's not a kid anymore, is halfway through a 15-year sentence he caught from a D.C. judge for $600 worth. The judge even apologized when he handed out the sentence. It was the federal sentencing guidelines. He said there was nothing he could do.
/> are likely to hear is some wisecrack about anal penetration. Both Letterman and Leno seem to be contractually obligated to mention it at least once a month.
in general, there must be something funny about anal penetration. I also understand that we have brought a large part of this upon ourselves. But enough already.
inside is not more likely than you would find in a big city nightclub. As far as rape is concerned, in 15 years behind bars, I've yet to see one.
segment. There are plenty of volunteers and prison administrators usually accommodate their needs.
made women's underwear available to those who were so inclined. I'm talking about federal prisons, men's federal prisons. I have no idea what happens in women's prisons, though I like to imagine it sometimes. Which brings us to what sex in prison is really all about. To quote Woody Allen, "Sex is like bridge: If you don't have a good partner, you need a good hand."
against prostate problems. Most prisons today are built with individual shower stalls as opposed to the type of shower rooms you may remember from gym class. (Lewisburg still has shower rooms, but it is considered bad form there to shower nude. The custom is to shower wearing boxer shorts.) These shower stalls are virtual masturbatoria, and you would be well advised to scrub one out before using it, especially if you find a page from the Victoria's Secret catalog stuck to the wall inside. There is even, among certain strangely twisted (and usually younger) convicts, a market for prosthetic devices known as fifis. I will say no more.
prison. I can only assume that whoever coined this phrase has either never been to a country club, or has never been to a prison. I have spent time in both. There is no similarity.
guys sleep stacked on bunk beds arranged not even two feet apart in a tiny little dormitory, and then stand in line in the morning to use one of six toilets, which are only rarely in working order at the same time.
dangerous places. Having always been a federal prisoner, I cannot speak with authority about conditions in state prisons, though people tell me that they are, in the main, abysmal.
have spent none if that stuff the Eighth Amendment says about bond was more than just words on paper.
convict, who supported himself in prison by writing habeas corpus appeals and habeas corpus petitions - he averaged two to three a month at about $1,000 a pop, what prison conditions are like in his native land.
that the average American could survive even a short stay. But, for the kind of money a convict spends to get by in an American prison, someone could probably bribe his way out of a Nigerian prison, or at the very least hire someone to do his time for him.
everyone out there is gutless. This is not to suggest that prison is some kind of graduate seminar, except maybe of crime. Nor am I referring to "street smarts," which I have found to be nothing more than a high level of paranoia combined with incredible baseness and selfishness and a willingness to do things that most people would consider beneath them.
mirrors the usual bell curve, even if we get more than our fair share of guys who have been failed by the big-city school system.
based on the line of thinking that goes: They got caught. Ergo they must be stupid because there are some things that one just cannot do.
with few exceptions, you can literally do any damn thing you want to do, anything that you can think of.
"may" because TV cop shows aside, people do get away with things once in a while. Machiavelli observed it is not the severity of the punishment that deters one from pursuing a particular course of action, but the certainty of being caught. Machiavelli was no dolt.
The Ones Portrayed In The Movies
who aren't.
is whether working in prison turns people into officious petty dictators, or people with those traits are the ones attracted to prison work in the first place.
who arrive with bad haircuts and affected, tortured syntax and a love of acronyms while they double-dip their government pensions and strut around like Patton clones, shouting orders in what is known as "command voice."
a few back at the corner pub with a group of convicts or a group of prison guards, most of you who looked into it would opt for the convicts.
Is Supplied By The Prison
over the course of a 10-year sentence - about average for a small to mid-level dope dealer, anyone who hoped to treat himself to a few luxury items like dental floss, or coffee, or a phone call home, or postage stamps, or even aspirin or cold pills, which are mainly available through the prison commissary, that person would have a problem.
of Prisons has recently announced its intention to begin charging convicts a nominal fee for sick-call visits. If a $4 fee for someone who makes $5 a month can truly be called nominal. (We all have jobs in prison, but it's like the old Soviet system under Communism: We pretend to work, and they pretend to pay us.)
pay, the $200 to $400 a month required in order to comfortably do his time does not represent a serious burden. However, for the person who is more accustomed to scores than to paychecks, who typically is not the sort of person who had put a little something away for a rainy day, comfort is something one strives for.
economy, prison supposedly affords convicts the opportunity and inclination to reflect on our evil ways and do penance. Hence the name "penitentiary."
about 80 percent of the prison population is on a 24/7 hustle. Some hustles are even tacitly encouraged.
administrators. New arrivals are commonly told that their areas have to be cleaned every day, regardless of how that is accomplished. In a higher-security joint, enterprising types take this as authorization to seize all the mops, buckets and other cleaning supplies and establish a monopoly on cleaning that hardly anyone is inclined to break. After all, the crowd who needs to hustle and the crowd who needs, for reasons largely associated with perceived status, to have their cells professionally cleaned, are symbiotic, and two bucks a week is a cheap way to feel like a Mafia don.
to accept that maximum usage of the limited laundry facilities in woefully overcrowded prisons is best achieved by people who are motivated by profit.
hire another convict to perform his assigned job. The cost of this is, naturally, many times what the prison pays. No one would really work for that.
running of the institution," and there isn't anyone on either side of the bars who would argue that turning a blind eye to certain indiscretions is anything but sound management policy.
for instance, is frowned upon by everyone, though the sanctions imposed by the convict population are so much worse than anything the administration is allowed to employ that this is not as much of a problem as you might expect.
a bookmaker has arrived in prison already feeling unfairly persecuted while the society he has just been exiled from is rife with church's bingo games, volunteer fire departments' Monte Carlo night and the NCAA Tournament pool that was hanging on the wall of the police station where he was taken after he was arrested. He finds himself in prison, immediately solicited to place bets or buy squares in pools for football games, basketball games, NASCAR races and the Daily Number.
to mind his own business, always pay his bills on time, and never get involved with gambling, dope or punks. The first piece of advice he usually ignores is the part about gambling. In the higher-security institutions, more convicts PC (check into protective custody) over gambling debts than for any other reason.
they can't keep drugs out of a penitentiary with 30-foot walls, eight gun towers and a full-time security staff of 500, how do they expect to keep them from crossing the Mexican border?
available on the street corner. In maximum-security joints, tastes run toward heroin, exorbitantly priced reefer (about $40/gram), and jailhouse wine made from either orange or tomato juice or, for the connoisseur, a very fine grape juice vintage aged 21 days in a plastic trash bag that most convicts say tastes almost as good as anything that can be had in a bottle with a twist-off cap.
but more reefer. A minimum-security facility is about the same. Coke and hallucinogens are rare everywhere - there's no sense getting too wound up with nowhere to go.
is, paradoxically, practically nothing to be had except for some occasional vodka, the drink of choice because of its mild smell. Convicts get transferred to camps, after all, for good behavior.
extortion, prostitution, selling chow-hall food (your own and others'), making and selling greeting cards and other hobby-craft items (including fifis), selling loosies (single cigarettes), operating a 2-for-1 store with commissary items (take 1 now, pay for 2 later), doing legal work, really anything you can think of.
time for rehabilitating or reflecting.
Criminals With Harsh Sentencing Laws
Rumsfelds of the world that that person, or group of people, needs to be sent a message, usually in the form of some draconian punishment. Every week on the evening news you are likely to see some politician advocating the bastinado or drawing and quartering to send a message to jaywalkers or mopes.
time and effort one must devote to a career in crime, not to mention staying out half the night carousing and sleeping 'til mid-afternoon, that any of us actually has time to watch the news or read the paper, let alone the Congressional Record or the Federal Register?
will ever learn the penalty for anything until we get caught, at which point the message is useless unless, of course, the message really is a wink and a nod in the direction of you, the voter, to let you know that the government is going to continue to do its best to punish the people who do things that you don't want them to do; so please continue to vote for me and, by all means, don't think that this pat on the back is only a diversion to disguise a grab for your wallet. But that is too cynical for even a criminal like me to believe.
goes on in here. A criminal-defense lawyer who has defended hundreds of clients once told me that no one who goes to prison is ever the same again. I didn't believe him. Convicts never believe anything anybody tells them. We are archetypal show-me guys.
an increased tendency to dress in dark colors, wear sunglasses at inappropriate times, or believe that Vegas and Sinatra and Wayne Newton are really, really cool. Prison leaves an indelible mark on the soul. The results, however, are not what I believe the people who advocate it most are hoping for.
we doing? Everybody's main activity, even more than hustling, is scheming.
of people largely motivated by money and remove them from the economy during their prime earning years. The longer you do this, the more it increases their anxiety. Then, stigmatize them with a label that makes the possibility of a secure future via traditional means unlikely. Finally, when you set them free, place them under the thumb of a supervisory system designed to hassle them. What do you expect to happen? It is so obvious to me that I can't see how anyone could believe that we are doing anything else in here but hatching schemes.
really screwed, so you'd better figure out what you're going to do about it.
are so happy about how the drug thing is working out that they are in the process of upping the ante for everyone. Just this year they doubled, and in some cases quadrupled, the sentencing guidelines for a bunch of white-collar offenses. I'll leave a light on for you.

Tre esperienze da un utilizzatore molto casuale

Tue, 12 Feb 2008 09:43:19 +0100

Mi ci e' voluto un po' per capire che anche i visitatori possono scrivere articoli.....vi ringrazio per lo spazio concesso, ho pensato di sfruttarlo per raccontare tre mie esperienze, credo che possano essere interessanti visto che sono un utilizzatore diciamo atipico. Ho 26 anni, non uso droghe leggere o pesanti, legali o illegali, salvo il vino, ma quasi esclusivamente a tavola, e il caffe', ne' frequento discoteche o altri posti dove si consumano.

1) Cocaina: mi trovavo con amici dell'universita' in settimana bianca, i nostri compagni di stanza (tre eravamo noi, tre loro) avevano della coca. Una sera, dopo cena e prima di recarci in un locale, questi preparano sei "piste" e poi altre sei. L'effetto e' di far sparire immediatamente l'ebbrezza del vino, e dare energia, voglia di chiacchierare, entusiasmo. Questo nei primi venti minuti, poi uscendo, forse anche per il freddo, l'etusiasmo cala e ammutoliamo un po'. La serata non e' un granche', dopo non molto torniamo in camera e i tipi mettono in campo anche il resto. Anche se non aveva troppo senso visto che non saremmo andati da nessuna parte, sniffiamo pure quella e ci mettiamo a giocare a risiko. Ovviamente non dormiamo fino alle sette col risultato di buttare la giornata successiva (se ti alzi alle tre, ormai non scii). Il giorno dopo ero nervoso e stanco. Uno di noi che durante il risiko avea bevuto ossessivamente della grappa (sostenendo che non ne sentiva gli effetti) si senti' male durante la serata.
2) Lsd: mi trovavo in una festa casalinga. Benche' come ho detto non frequenti discoteche o festival con musica alta e folla, mi era capitato di sperimentare l'mdma, altrimenti nota come ecstasy, due volte prima di quel giorno, sempre in ambiti similari. Anche a quella festa un'amica aveva delle compresse cosi' ne assunsi meta', gli effetti furono i soliti delle due volte precedenti (empatia, amore verso il prossimo, felicita' diffusa) e la festa era quieta e carine, sensazioni avvolgenti. Un amico aveva dei "trip" (cartoncini con lsd): da tempo mi ero ripromesso di sperimentarlo in quanto avevo letto dell'uso che ne avevano fatto Stanley Kubrick e Cronenberg, ma non frequentando certi ambienti non avevo idea di come reperirlo. A quel punto colsi l'occasione al volo, anche perche' sapevo che l'mdma mi stava tenendo di ottimo umore e mi ci avrebbe tenuto per ore. L'amico disse che se non avevo mai provato non dovevo prenderne piu' di meta', ma io, sapendo che probabilmente non l'avrei piu' voluto fare, volevo un'esperienza completa e lo presi intero (altri due amici, piu quello che li aveva portati, ne presero mezzo).
All'inizio nessun effetto, poi dopo un'ora e mezzo circa iniziamo a ridere come pazzi. Questa fase duro' non piu' di mezz'ora, poi una mezz'ora di quiete, poi ancora risate (non piu di dieci minuti) a quel punto inizio a sentire i primi cambi nella percezione, i colori si fanno piu vividi, la musica e' tanto chiara da essere commovente, e duro fatica a fissare le cose. Parliamo e ridiamo, il momento e' molto intenso, privato, ci divertiamo a fare i pi' assurdi ragionamenti. Dopo un'altra ora vado in bagno. Appena esco dalla sala della festa ed entro in bagno (bianco, pulito, silenzioso) e' come essere in una bolla, sento l'eco della festa come se fosse lontanissima. Sensazioni piacevoli addosso, grande consapevolezza del corpo. Rietro alla festa e partono altri scrosci di risate, ma finiti quelli nulla e' come prima. E' difficile spiegare come erano le cose, ma era come vederle per quello che realmente erano, prive dei significati che diamo loro in base all'esperienza (non so se mi sono spiegato). Se chiudevo gli occhi, invece, un arabesco colorato in movimento, tipo caleidoscopio ma di una bellezza inconcepibile, mi si srotolava davanti. La festa, il rumore, il fumo di sigaretta cominciano a darmi noia: un altro amico condivide questo e cosi' usciamo. La citta' (era ormai quasi mattina) era deserta, ogni particolare si stagliava con una precisione mai vista prima, per un po' vaghiamo meravigliati. Dopo circa un'ora le visioni iniziano ad essere veramente costanti (nel senso che ovunque posassimo lo sguardo comparivano arabeschi, senza contare che i suoni e gli odori erano visibili!) quindi rientriamo a casa. La maggior parte della gente aveva sfollato cosi', insieme ad altre 5-6 persone, ci piazziamo sui divani, ogni tanto parliamo ma io ero entrato in una fase introspettiva, in cui ho riconsiderato tutta la mia esistenza fino a quel punto. Nei momenti di distrazione da queste intropezioni era sufficiente chiudere gli occhi per avere visioni simili ai quadri di Bosch, panorami fiamminghi iperparticolareggiati. Tutto questo per due ore o giu di li',non sto a raccontare le mille introspezioni nello specifico. Dopo questa fase siamo andati a fare colazione (era mattina), la tempesta era passata ma le cose brillavano ancora di una luce particolare, era come vederle (specie cose naturali, come fiori, foglie, alberi) in tutta la loro bellezza, una bellezza che normalmente siamo abituati a non considerare a meno di starci davvero attenti. Al rientro e' sopraggiunto il sonno. Non mi vergogno a dire che e' stata una delle esperienze piu' significative della mia vita.
3) Ketamina: esperienza recente (le altre due sono accadute circa 3 anni fa quando ero ancora all'universita). Le coinquiline della mia ragazza (tipiche "fattone") si presentano a casa sua con quella roba. Era molto tardi e quelle venivano da una festa, noi eravamo alzati perche' guardavamo un film. Insomma, si mettono a preparare delle righe. A quel punto la mia curiosita' scientifica prende il sopravvento e chiedo di provare. Quelle si sorprendono molto (diciamo che mi consideravano "il fidanzato dottore" della mia ragazza, super serio, etcetera) ma mi lasciano sniffare una riga grossa (per quel che ne so, diciamo grossa rispetto alle uniche piste che avevo visto in vita mia, quelle in 1) ), . La povere brucia abbastanza, il sapore e' farmacologico. Sul momento nessun effetto, poi mi sento acquoso, come se il corpo si sciogliesse. Mi stendo per terra, mi siedo appoggiando la schiena alla parete. Le ragazze ridono, le vedo piccole, lontane. Ho come la totale percezione dei limiti della mia carne rispetto allo spazio vuoto, e mi sento distaccato. Non propirio "fuori dal corpo" ma quasi, come spettatore esterno. Dopo un po' pero' la cosa finisce (in realta' vedo poi che era passata quasi un'ora ma per me erano 3 minuti). Le ragazze mi chiedono se voglio farne un' altra, ma e' sopraggiunta della nausea (tipo mal di mare) cosi' non la faccio. Per una decina di minuti provo una sensazione di estrema lucidita', nonostante la nausea, poi sopraggiunge il sonno.

Diario di un rave

Wed, 26 Dec 2007 15:13:20 +0100

2 giorni fa ero ad un rave.. una fabbrica enorme, mille stanzoni grandissimi, corridoi, camere e cortili abbandonati... e in mezzo lui, il sound, muro di casse alto 3 metri e lungo 15.. ovunque per il sito ci sono campers e macchine "special", gente che ti chiama per chiederti se vuoi prendere qualcosa per rendere l'atmosfera più viva..
quella sera sono arrivato lì sapendo già che avrei voluto provare un beverone di acqua e cristalli... mi aveva sempre attirato l'idea e nella mia gamma di "esperimenti" mancava ancora quella componente.. ebbene, la prima bottiglia da 33cl se ne va in 5 minuti, divisa tra noi 5 o 6 amici.... poi, dopo circa mezz'ora, arrivato l'ultimo di noi alla festa, si festeggia con una bottiglia da 1 litro.. per farla breve 1,5 g di cristalli se ne vanno in 45 minuti, contando che su 6 eravamo 3 maschi molto "assetati" e 3 ragazze relativamente più tranquille... dopo un tempo non precisato, cmq poco dopo la seconda bottiglia, tutti vengono attirati dalla musica e partono in massa verso il sound, mentre uno di noi aveva iniziato a fare dei disegni sui muri... capite le nostre intenzioni si gira verso di me e mi dice "voi andate, tranquilli io resto un pò qua a disegnare"...
a quel punto, capito l'andazzo (lui è sempre stato quello che mi ha fatto viaggiare mentalemente ad ogni occasione "psicoattiva") ho deciso di seguirlo e rimandare la danza... e dopo un pò, in concomitanza con il picco dell'effetto, ho capito di aver fatto la cosa giusta: abbiamo cominciato a parlare dei disegni, ed io ho iniziato a fare discorsi molto profondi (o almeno così mi sembrava) su ciò che secondo me significa disegnare per lui... evidentemente sarò stato troppo profondo (o più probabilmente era salita anche a lui) fatto sta che all'improvviso smette di disegnare, si gira con la bocca aperta e gli occhi da cucciolo di cane, mi abbraccia e mi dice "dopo quello che hai detto devo dedicarti un disegno"... troviamo una parete abbastanza grande e lì tocchiamo il momento di feeling più intenso: lui disegna e io gli parlo, il tutto sempre più velocemente... le parole si mischiano con i tocchi di colore, le sfumature con i silenzi... in quel momento sento un senso favoloso senso di felicità, una felicità pura, mai provata.. dopo un pò però succede una cosa che ci lascia molto tristi: si avvicina una ragazza che ci chiede cosa facciamo, di dove siamo... insomma un'altra che come noi aveva un'intensa voglia di comunicare.. noi siamo felici di questo, parliamo e sorridiamo, lontani dall'essere maliziosi o aggressivi.. però all'improvviso da dietro spunta un ragazzo dall'aria evidentemente alterata dal fatto che stessimo parlando con la sua amica.. la porta via subito mentre un terzo ragazzo lo calma..
questa scena mi ha fatto male, ma evidentemente ha fatto ancor più star male il mio amico: lo vedo girarsi verso di me con una faccia da bambino offeso... faceva sinceramente tenerezza.. ritorna al suo disegno, ma questa volta muovendosi a scatti, dicendomi "questo disegno te lo sto finendo proprio con cattiveria... il mondo è brutto"... questa cosa mi ha fatto pensare...
passato questo momento intenso torniamo dagli altri... ora non sto a raccontare precisamente tutto ciò che è successo: dico solo che dopo un pò ho chiesto a un mio amico di accompagnarmi in un posto, ho sgomiato in tutta tranquillità un pò din birra e da lì sono stato di nuovo meglio.. ho passato tutta la notte e la mattina a ballare 15 minuti e poi a girare trotterellando per 10 minuti salutando la gente, aiutando quelli che non stavano bene e parlando con altri come me.. poi il pomeriggio a casa, cena veloce alle 5 e poi a nanna... stamattina? fresco come una rosa..

so che fa male, so che è illegale, ma non posso negare che prenderlo sia una delle esperienze più ricche di sensazioni che abbia mai provato... la parola d'ordine in queste cose è sempre LIMITE: io stavo bene, ma vedevo gente davvero in stati pietosi, piegati da altre sostanze a cui evidentemente non possono più rinunciare.. sostanze che ho provato anch'io, ma solo per un istinto di esplorazione che mi spinge a testare una e una sola volta le cose per capire cosa mi danno... tutto ciò a volte mi fa paura, ma posso dire che finchè si conserva un minimo di amor proprio, un minimo di speranza per il proprio futuro, va da se che il limite viene autoimposto..

non sono nessuno per dirlo, ma mi raccomando: quella non è la vera vita, è solo una percezione alterata da un processo di inibizione chimica.. facciamo sempre in modo che il cervello funzioni, che di questi tempi ce n'è bisogno...

ciao

adreno.chrome Tedo

vino-caffè

Mon, 08 Oct 2007 19:46:39 +0200

Al giorno d'oggi si cade facile nell'uso di eccitanti (caffeina in primis), di cui faccio un uso spropositato.
Questo mi porta, soprattutto quando arriva la sera, ad assumere tranquillanti erboristici per contrastare tutti questi caffè.
Le varie camomilla, melissa valeriana fanno però poco.
Ho provato ad alternare droghe più forti (diazepam ovvero EN e Tavor) ma mi hanno dato sonnolenza e addormentamenti durante il giorno.

E' secondo me un percorso di tossicodipendenza tipico, parallelamente a quello del classico "mi drogo perché mi piace", un fenomeno borghese e quindi non condannato di alternanza dcalmanti/depressivi--->eccitanti/stimolanti (tipici: vino/birra e caffè; diazepam e caffé, o nei casi più gravi, diazepam e cocaina) per poter gestire le varie fasi del giorno in cui la società ti "ordina" di dormire oppure produrre, in continua sequenza.

Ti svegli rincoglionito? Devi prendere un caffè, non puoi aspettare che il corpo si svegli da solo. Ti senti troppo sveglio la sera per via dei caffé? Devi prendere qualcosa per controbilanciare, altrimenti dormi poco e il giorno dopo non combini niente. Sei stressato? Una bella cena è la giusta scusa per drogarti col vino (la mattina dopo, doppio caffè). Si finisce per diventare schiavi di un'alternanza di eccitanti - calmanti per potersi adattare ai ritmi della vita moderna.