Before A.D. - Six
When there was no sense in direction there was Jesus in the wilderness, and I in a parallel universe alongside his emotion and that was with no emotion.
What occurred after feeling relief from a schizophrenic disorder was comforting. No voices in my head about hate and I definitely felt no anger. I wasn’t upset and that felt great. That was what I’d like to be all the day, should be all the time, why should I have resent, and why should I assort this on others? That obviously would not be fair on whomever I was with and I had no joy in bumming people out. Without feeling remorse I felt healthy mentally. Most of all I felt at peace with my surroundings, along as I had mary-jane by my side nothing else mattered. I knew I wouldn’t be rude or project anger to anyone, just like a grounded tree.
The spoils of youth had made me corrupt and now there was no one in my path to let me think otherwise. I lived my life peacefully, no need for anyone as long as my work got done. Then again there was no work, just regret that without marijuana I would not be able to get my work off the floor. The regret for smoking the ganja got the ball rolling slowly and as long as there was a constant supply of sedatives I was o.k.
The year of new prospects and goodwill couldn’t have started out any worse. Third year of university and narrowly escaping a sudden flight back from Orlando due to results from a retake exam I should have felt saved. At the time however I had studied hard for two exams, which I failed the first time around, and these two being my first in my life, but I felt confident enough to re-sit them and the next day fly to Orlando with Romeo and his fellow work mates. And I had passed as expected and instead of the vacation falling short we traveled to Miami and had a merry old time.
The blind man polishing teeth whilst looking at them instead of concentrating on the back of the throat deserved no reward. That should have been my final close and I should have packed buddah in for the last time. But somehow I didn’t, as the first thing I did before I had unpacked my suitcase at my new apartment at Redman House in London was smoke pot. A bright beautiful day and I rushed my family including baby sister away so I could get settled in. That year all was to change, the Lord had his hand on me as surely the devil was itching to receive me, unless they were pending me for what was still yet to be, la afham, I don’t know.
Beginning of 2000, the simplest year in dental education that King’s had to offer and by far simpler than the year previous, my mind was set on passing time rather than accumulating quality wisdom. Away from Lara and my flesh craved for reassurance, speaking to Mike and how he was doing well whilst still being heavily sedated I had no reason to change myself.
Alcohol and mixed tobacco with cannabis till two months prior to finals should prove satisfactory to move into the fourth year, that would have been enough. So the cycle started. First I tried to make a move on Samantha whilst in this state of euphoria, this made me feel ashamed to see her in class and around university, completely embarrassed of myself and no Jesus to have taught me to say sorry. This led me to sin further and at a much greater depth. A night in October a coach full of students to attend a night out in Brighton in a flash turned my fate from hero to negligent for everyone.
I still can’t get why this night occurred, there was no sense in my actions, and the night began with familiar friends and Naomi who was under some sort of depression from Shaun, or from some sort of other situation she needed to get away and be with others.
That night to Brighton I had shared a smoke with the lads on the coach and once into the club we all began to drink. Naomi drank like a fish and with every moment had to be kept an eye on. We were in amongst strangers and she had a way of receiving free drinks and then being louder than usual. This, along with her depression pills she was extremely flirtatious. (What I have learnt now is that girls would like attention and the only attention that comforted her that night was from me). At the time I was clueless, she was a close friend, and I only wanted to be drunk, and high, (and pass time), and by looking around the room there was no one that could compare to Lara.
Half way through the night I smoked another joint with the lads whilst the girls looked over Naomi and by the time we came back into the club people were outside. A fight was brewing between two lads and Naomi thought she could resolve the situation which ended up with her being knocked out cold and falling to the floor. I happened to lift her and place her into the coach.
The ride home was filled with red eyes and mixed emotions with her lying on my lap and I silently trying to arouse her, what was I thinking? She was a friend, she had a boyfriend, who was a good friend, but she did try to have her hand in my pants all night and if I hadn’t had resisted then maybe something may have happened between us.
On that ride I thought about arousing her, to wake her and not think about what would happen next. Would she feel disgusted was not what I thought. The way things were going that night I honestly thought she would wake and stick her tongue down my throat. This was all beside the main point. I didn’t have feelings for her the way her boyfriend had. And the way the night unveiled I accounted that she had feelings for me greatly over him. Trying to find sense for placing my hand down her blouse past an hour she got up and moved to the back of the coach. (Where I wish I had dropped her before acting stupid that night). I felt scared and followed her to the back seat where the rest of the lads were and pretended to sleep the rest of the way home.
I remember talking to her the next day and denied any truth in what happened, making a phony reason that I was checking to see if she still had a pulse. I can still remember her saying that she would have accepted an apology; all she wanted was the truth, but I was weak in apologies, they didn’t make sense to me, the only thing that made sense was to smoke some more and forget that ever happened. I shattered like a grand porcelain statue hit by lightning to dust and from then further still to make sure no one had any reason to remember my existence.
University life crumbled away slowly, embarrassed to see her, embarrassed really to see anyone. Strongly associated with smoking that whatever I thought and whoever I spoke to, and whatever we spoke about ended with one image and one image alone, and that was of me with puff the magic dragon, he’ll make everything smooth. Lectures were first off my agenda as I couldn’t face seeing her, and only if I had apologized and only if I had stayed off the drugs long enough then I would have been able to apologize. But this was not easily going to be the case, en seguida que?!
Later in February 2001 I got my first arrest. Just when I felt that this was the end of the smoke-fest I happened to be used in a stag operation by Metropolitan Police of London. They had their eye on a young potential non-tax labourer and decided to jump on me as well. (He said he found it, that’s what he said, found it whilst watching where he going). I was extremely ignorant and during interrogation I shared a few details hoping that this would help my supplier stay away from what I assumed the police already knew. I was released with caution, and for the majority of that year I remained concealed, away from school and away from life, due to fear that this was my entire fault.
That year I failed both my exams and I hadn’t stopped smoking. As now being around drug dealers provided me with mental safety. Instead of packing drugs away I became more eased with them; thanks to the police they somehow helped me saturate the comfort of smoking freely. They also helped me define how commercial justice would fail every-time if not working with theodicy. Now I can be thankful for as I am free from fearing the law. Nevertheless the bigger picture was that I still had to pass exams.