Description:

Revisiting old friends on a bank holiday weekend. Good old times... 

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Drugs Are Decent?

Drugs are decent - it's something a university student once told me. Given it was in Scotland there's a high likelihood everyone present was on some drug or other. Some things are what they are. Everything else is, too.
I studied that statement for many years...

It's incomplete, if not wrong. Let us look underneath its surface.

Skagboys choose not to choose life - in what may represent the purest of self-serving choices. 

Law and its enforcement primarily, as in most of the times, punishes those at the bottom. Those most willing to self-destruct.

Jesse Pinkman describes his work as something like "making poison for people who don't care".
His end-customers pretty much only care about speeding up the whole mortality thing. Sod the consequences. But they don't really care about the journey. Poison is poison. Death is death. Ones and zeros. 
No room, no need. For decimals. No. Choice.

And then there's Marsh - who presents a choice. Too much to loose. Bad choices... Are favourable... They aren't, are they? How do you? How can you? Choose? Can you? I can't even...

Drugs are like people. People are like people. People like people. People like drugs. A life of possibility. 

But are they decent? Are people? Are they fuck! Some are... still...

The person taking the drug may be a doctor. Or an altruist. Or a rapist. Or both... You don't know, do you?
Everyone has their secrets. It'll be our little secret. No one cares. Good or bad poison? Why, yes, please. I'll take that to-go. One for the road, two.

It stands to argue that most altruistic doctor-rapists, like everyone else, taking drugs, pay for the cost of procurement. And like everyone else, no one pays the full price. 
Market fluctuation. Flexible costs. 

Everyone loves Breaking Bad. Everyone but Holly White is a crook and a criminal - at some point they all lost their innocence. Everyone has their little thing. Their secret. We all do. But we don't get to benefit from it. 
Salamancas by any other name - if only we cared about family, about everything, about anything. Ding. Ding-ding. This isn't a bell. An alarm. It's a clock. 

Drugs may be decent. And you may be, too. But as long as they are illegal, you lose. We all do. We forfeit the choice. 

Throughout history - if there was a substance. It was used. Sometimes abused. By those to choose to use. Chose to loose. Their lives. The lives of the others. 
Free market isn't free. It's only legal. Same thing. Less to gain. More to lose. Your face. Save it.

Incremental changes. Here and there. Too little? Too late? An attraction? A distraction? 

You can't buy or sell - you can own and use. Personal legal magic. It's (not) a crime. Is it?

Who knows? Who pays? We all do. 

Be healthy. Have the same diseases and ailments. So say the Crispian claims. He was decent. And suffered. Not from perversion. But they did. Still do - but louder. 
We all are. We're hurt. Unfocused. On the pain. Kill it. A buck a pop. Bang. Flash. Zing. Cut.

Can you blame them? Junkies? Can you understand them? Can you hold it against them? They hurt others more. Not friends. Not acquaintances. Only those who didn't suffer enough.

A broken system. A broken species. A break? 

Give me a break... c'mon... 

Take a break... have a kid... have a cat... or a dog... as long as it breaths, it's alive. And cares. So can you. If only you could. 

Drugs aren't decent. Neither is taking drugs - unless it's doctors orders. Then it might be okay, if it makes you feel better. In the future.

If you don't know where they're from - you probably don't want to know. Taxes not included. Hush money is. It's for your own sake. 

What's your poison? 

It's not dealer's choice. 

It's yours. 

You earned it. You paid for it. The imbalance is yours, too. If you were at fault. Your error?

It were unearned.

It ain't.

Your choice.