Story from the bottom of the Dead Sea
knew id be there a while this time,outta state dope charge and all,and i knew i'd be sick but i didnt know that there was a difference between DOPE sick(been there done that)and what id be :METHADONE sick.It is not a SUBTLE difference.
It hit me the next morning..not the slow ebb and tide of junksick,no this hit me like a tsunami.Pulled me under some heavy brackish water ,murky filthy ancient motionless sea,where time ran slower than anywhere else and the pain didnt stop.
Not in 3 days.Not in 5.Not in 7.
I could hear voices and the hellish noise of jail somewhere above me,coming slow and muffled ,sluggish and scary.
(Officer,my cellmate,she gonna die in here.Get her to medical..OFFICER!C.O.!)
(shes on methadone,its like a bad flu,give her some tylenol)
where'd you get your medical degree..from a mailorder school?I am gonna die in here,I start to realize,after hearing that.And I don't cry,I Idont speak,I want to die.
terrible visions,apocalypse dreams,middle eastern music ancient voices
12 days..get up wash my face drink juice cellmate smiles"you gonna be allright now..you from up Nawth,isn't you?you a mexican?"
i fall back into the deep.
a voice penetrates the mire:
Rojas!Pack it up!Chicago dropped the charges!
Just let me out ,you inbred Nazi bastards.
Friends meet me ,get in the car,Ive lost 15lbs and Im close to insane.I say nothing.They hand me a bag,a syringe,knowing I had to have been sick and I hand it back ,hold my arm out for THEM to do it,unable to speak.
When I am able to speak they ask me if what they heard was true,they asked some old dopefiend at the clinic,and were told methadone sick is worse than junksick.
Still in shock,I utter the biggest understatement of my life as the dope pulls me out ,rescues me from drowning:
"You guys..better taper off that methadone.Its..not even cool."