Monday, July 14, 2014


Blow yourself... In the right direction. Don't do drugs. Blow kisses, not cocaine! Love yourself more! Any unhealthy toxin that you put into your body to gratify it is a poison. Yeah, I'm not talking about wang or putang. But you should probably watch out where that comes from too! Safe not sorry, perverts! Ok whatever I thought it too! ByGones and let's be moving on.

You don't always need the things you desire. From a buddhist perspective there is no difference between greed or desire. Greed is essentially an attraction to something that you think will gratify you or satisfy you. I could give you something witty that buddhism teaches but it is best you realize this on your own. Drugs, like possessions & attachments are... You don't own things, they end up owning you. Soon enough you end up tired of them and wanting something else.

Here's a story about drugs. One of the most potentially powerful addicting drugs that most everyone gets a taste of... LOVE. Well if you treat love like an object that you must own... it becomes an drug addiction that you cling to. Love is not possession or a trophy, it is freely given without condition. If you really love someone or something you never stop loving them even when the person or object is gone from your life.

Are you addicted to the things you desire? How about love?
Kisses, m. 

Love is a drug

Love is a drug. More addictive than any other. Once you’ve had a taste of it there can be no substitution. Sweet like nectar hitting your lips and tongue for the first time. Souring all too quickly leaving an unquenchable need behind. Ruined from the moment you’ve gotten it into your system. There’s no getting it out. You can not return to life without it. Life can’t possibly compare without a hit or bump of it. Your mind screams, ‘Give me a fix.’ You’re hooked! A functioning junkie recklessly traveling hidden among the good people of the world grasping, taking down anyone that’s willing to fall with you. Foolishly you will lie to yourself, cheat yourself and deny any other way for one more taste.

Tricky business this commodity of love is. People wanting the best quality without paying the price for it. It’s not all fun and games now. This is a serious entrepreneurship. My affairs are handled with the most discretion. Some hustlers out there might be lying and tell you they market the original and barter only in the best product. Others can give you a better price. But make no mistake, I’m the only one selling the original and the BEST is my specialty. Needless to say there are unscrupulous people in this world, it is better to steer clear of those unsavory sorts who feed off of others to get ahead. Those sorts would rather trick you into believing something that isn’t real, rather than stand by their word. My word is law and I stand by my business firmly. No fakes here.

To be perfectly honest, it’s not my intention to get you addicted. In fact, by the time most of you find your way to me, it’s a crying shame. Deep in the throws of ravenous emotional cravings. Wide awake for days, no appetite, warm skin, shakes, lack of focus and completely out of your mind. Out comes my case and with the most delicate sensitivity I offer up my wares. Liquid sealed in small vials labeled #1-8. The delicate bottles lay still upon a violet crush of velvet. #1, #2, or even #3 will ease you back into your routine with the hope of a future romance. Definitely takes the edge off for the brokenhearted. #4 and #5 will grant you the illusion of infatuation. Perfect for budding affections. #6 will throw you amidst a sea of passions temporarily. Couples only. You’d be surprised that’s not a better seller too. And not for the faint of heart, but #7 and #8 will jump start a fading love. On occasion I’ve refused the wares to potential buyers. Some want a test, while others insist that I prove their worth. My experience is quite simple, it’s best not to sample the goods. Love is addictive enough without tampering with the synthetic forms. Bottom line: If you’ve found your way to me, then you’ve been given my word. That should be sufficient.

A considerable number of years pass and it’s understandable that one builds up a reasonable amount of clientele. Especially those who may know about my special products. #9 & #10? Those aren’t available to the general public. Word gets spread and the cat gets let out of the bag. My reputation firmly stands on the principle that #9 & #10 do not exist. Although a few are quite familiar with my work and have sampled #9, I repeatedly deny the product is existent. It exists to a select few, those trusted above all others. But some things, like #9, should be kept from prying eyes. If everyone knew it was so accessible they would want a piece for themselves. No one wants to share. Selfishly people take from each other without consequence or consideration for another’s feelings.

The ultimate problem is the unstable nature of love and the inability to control it. #9 & #10 deal with the most extreme intense feelings, obsession and desire. The uncontrollable area where passion and insanity collide. Both will result in instant affections, but due to the unbalanced compounds there is no telling what can happen once unleashed. Deadly to the novice and experienced alike and should not be meddled with lightly. #9 will make you fall in love so deeply without the blink of an eye, bringing with it a handful of unrestrained yearnings and emotions from all who are involved and then quietly disappearing without a trace. #10 draws the fine line between love and hate clearly before you. Obsession with no end. Deadly. Misguided affections can result in severe consequences. Perhaps the most unstable of my compounds, #10 can have the adverse affect of being one-sided, quickly reversing into hate.  A dark passion springing into jealousy and becoming deranged can seek to destroy its intended affection.

The night is coming to a close and the sun is sneaking up like a stranger with its unyielding light. Winding down to my final few moments alone, I decide it’s time to call it a night. Closing up shop for the night when in walks my last customer. After all this evening has been light, and I can tell this guy’s got a need like no other. Disheveled hair, thin as a rail, without an ounce of peace in his heart. “Give me the one that makes it better!” demands my gaunt customer with a wild enthusiasm. “I heard there’s one that makes you fall without an end. I need it! NOW! She’s has to feel it again. It’s called…”

Quickly remembering myself in the room, I try to stop him before the words come out, “I can only make it better if she is a willing participant. Despite your broken heart a love that has ended can not be revived. If you would pre-f-,” but I’m interrupted.

“10! That’s the one. Yeah, someone told me that was what I needed. It would make her love me again! FOREVER!”

“Ah. My, oh my, this is troubling. Where did you hear about that one? Love is fleeting, especially in synthetic form. Temporary are the drugs I offer. The real thing can not be duplicated. I can promise you I have something that will help your feelings. Let me give you a sample of #1, perhaps #2. In a couple of days you will be right as rain. Please?” I offer as I motion toward his hand.

Snapping back he reaches into his pants and snatches up a ball of money. Gently places it in my hand. With a breath he mouths, “Your word is law.” As he pulls back he persists, “I was referred and you can not refuse!” Deadliest of combinations, a rattled mind without a questionable conscious. A hardcore junkie to the bone. You could tell he’d been through several dark dealings before finding me. Shaking uneasily he yanks out a gun. “Just give me the Shit!” You can keep the money. I need this. I HAVE TO MAKE IT RIGHT!”

Perhaps I’d hesitated too long, but at this point there was no refusing. Silently I gather together my wares. Delicately I unhook the bottom of the case to remove the deadly pair. Carefully I put on a pair of gloves before I open #10. It was like a poison and even the smallest drop would send a grown man into frenzy. Cautiously, while the lunatic stares at me intently, I place a small amount into a vial. As soon as I’d sealed it, he snatches up the vial and races out of the shop. Immediately upon exit he drops the gun into a trash receptacle at the curb. Desperate men cling to anything in a hopeless state. Deep in my belly there’s a hope that this won’t end badly. Hope is all you really can ask for.

Love is a drug. A drug without apologies. Addicting. Mesmerizing. However it is curable. Well not entirely?  You can go without, but it is not recommended. Denying the craving will only make it stronger. You can not live without it, once it’s there.  There is nothing that can substitute for the real thing. The road to recovery is covered in debris of failed pasts and emotional disconnection, but nevertheless worth the journey. 

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