n2ocowboy

I remember when i was a kid i was pretty naive. I was a bad boy, but i was bad in a cute little boy kinda way. I was unaware and oblivious of things like drugs and sex, i was into mischief and mayhem. Some of my finest moments include acts of vandalism, arson, theft. Nothing too hardcore, just destrutive. Then one day I found a bottle of perscrition cough syrop. It was a tiny little bottle, and I wondered... So I was feeling shitty one day all sore and coughing, and grabbed that bottle and sucked it back like apple juice. And Holy Shit did i get fucked up. This is when i was like 8 or 9 years old and you can imagine what a bottle of opiate based cough syrop can do a little boy. Well needless to say from that moment onwards I kept a keen eye for brightly coloured liquids and pills. I loved it. But it was all very innocent, just a kid rollin around all whacked out. I loved the warm fuzzy feeling I got from opiates. So much so I started to reserch it a bit. I found out from a TinTin comic about opium, and to my delight I discovered that my great grandama had planted tons of poppies in our garden. She was only too delighted to show me how to milk the milky white nectar within, for this was the medicine of our people. She told me, "this is our medicine little one, this is what we use. The pills of the white man are not good for you, that is devil medicine.". Such advice was taken to heart. From then on, whenever i was sad or bored or hurt, i would wander out to the garden and get some of that bittersweet juice. I guess my innocence was lost that day, but i think it was more of an awakening to my culture and the magic within.
all in the golden afternoon