Organs

 Apparently, there is a global trade thriving in China today – for your organs. Once they’ve picked you up off the street for loitering without intent or whatever, they’ll blood-test you to make a database. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of leg room in the death camp. You can stretch your legs as much as you like but by all accounts the food is crap. When a client comes in from Europe to buy an organ, the database is checked to find a matching victim. While still alive, the victim’s organs are forcefully removed and sold for around 300 monkeys each (about £150,000). They only give you 2 paracetamol during the rookie operations because over there life is cheap.

Benedict Rogers, Deputy Chair of Human Rights, said that “Livers, kidneys, hearts, lungs and corneas are being cut out from innocent people who have not consented. It’s a gruesome mass scale trade like something out of a horror movie.” He added that he’s going to batter the culprits after he’s brought them to justice for assault and taking the piss.

They are picking on healthy people who have never drank, smoked or done drugs. So their work is cut out then. These kinds of people do exist however in random population pockets and for them it’s squeaky bum time big time. They tend to follow principles of tolerance, kindness and truthfulness, are non-violent and do not retaliate. Easy pickings once they catch them then. Someone needs to step in and start kicking off about it. Who can defend us? they ask.

I’d batter them for you as well. This is so insane and out of order. I almost refuse to believe it is happening. Is it too much of a broad sweeping statement to declare the whole of China a criminal state? You hear stories of the government removing people’s throats and lower abdomens and then hastily cremating the bodies to destroy evidence without the relative’s consent.

What a f**king world we live in. How desperate can some dudes be for cash? I’d love to see their face if they pulled out my organs and saw the state of them. They could have them for nothing don’t worry about it. Then I’d put them in a JCB and pour them into a vat of nuclear reactor fuel, pull them out, and tw*t them all over the place. I hate to sling insults around but disgusting horrible malignant bast*rd vermin come to mind. Cutting out another person’s organ on 2 paracetamol! Get a grip! That kind of behaviour doesn’t belong anywhere on this planet, and you’re giving the lovely people of that continent a bad name. Massive shame on you.

Man In The Glass

I’ve used amphet for the last ever time since my last post. This is due to health reasons. Maybe this blog has been reduced to nothing more than merely the howlings of a rambling junkie, but I assure you that there’s a helluva lot more to my life than a bit of substance misuse. When you perceive Joe the Average Junkie, it’s usually crack ‘n’ smack you think he’s tweaked out on. How many ‘speed freaks’ do you know? I’ve heard it time and time again from all users alike – speed is dirty, speed is filthy, speed is a nasty drug. The jury has delivered its verdict. But is speed the worst? I’d argue that it is.

I’ve just done the whole Man In The Glass routine. That’s when you look into the mirror and promise yourself something. I declared out loud that I’m never going to ingest speed again for as long as I live. I’m surprised it’s taken me this many years to be able to do this. It’s almost as if I’ve been saving it. I’ve sowed a lot of faith and hope in this routine and didn’t want to waste it when I didn’t really mean it. It’s a big step to make a vow between you and the mirror.

Let’s be honest, I’m 44 next month, my jobbing career as an addict is reaching critical mass. It’s over, okay, it’s just over. There’ll be no more homely warm sessions where the world feels at one with itself, coming up off a double-bomb in privacy, sewed up in fabrics of fire cotton and passion cashmere, like a little gnome all happy in his little greenhouse. Now I’ll have to sit with life and face it head on. Which is what I’ve been doing quite a lot, to be fair. Sat there, no television, brooding, occasionally reading. Thinking back over my life. And now perhaps, thinking forward.

I’ve had sharp internal pain for over a week. The agony has been ridiculous. I blame the phet. It might have been a kidney stone. I couldn’t sit down, couldn’t lie down, couldn’t walk at one point. It hurt every time I breathed in and shifted position. For a scary moment, I thought it was going to kill me. Paracetamol and Ibuprofen could hardly touch this long-term chronic pain but I gobbled them anyway. I was too immobile to make it to the doctors. I wouldn’t have been able to sit in the back of a taxi to make the journey to A&E. I was paralysed at home and screwed.

So my connectivity has suffered and my volumizing has suffered, along with everything else. I couldn’t sneeze or cough without pain. My whole life has fell out of the window inside a week! It’s remarkable how pain changes your outlook. Now, coming out of it (the monkey is off my shoulder but the circus is still in town), I feel revitalised, radicalised, born again. I’ve re-evaluated my existence.

And re-emerged feeling POSITIVE. And dare I say it, euphoric!