Never Trust a Junkie

I hate junkies. I don't mean the ones currently hooked
on smack. So long as they don't try to sell my stuff,
I take a live and let live attitude. these are people
with genuine problems after all and they should be
pitied. No, the kind of junkies I hate are the ones
who are fully recovered from their habits, so they
like to tell you repeatedly. They think themselves
superior for quitting something that was killing them
and apparently believe no one has had a problem as bad
as theirs was which makes them, quietly and otherwise,
superior to everyone they meet.

Junkies, and I use the term loosely to refer to anyone
who has been addicted to anything from H to X and then
gone through a 12 step program. These people are
nothing more than other cult members whose higher
power 9be it a doorknob) showed them the way out of
darkness and, if you let them talk your ear off, they
can help you too. I don't trust their horse shit line
of self help religiosity.

Problem is, most people aren't fucked up the way
junkies are. Oh sure, we all have our little
peccadilloes, but most of our peccadilloes aren't life
threatening street drugs or clearly marked consumer
products marked "may kill you" which is worse than
will kill you because it leaves wiggle room.

A tar like piece of heroine or a bag of weed has no
assurances that it is good for you. Considering the
moral character of people who try to make as much
money selling drugs as possible (by cutting them with
everything from oregano and formaldehyde to baby
powder and detergent) everyone should know better
before hand.

i don't like to judge, except when i do, and I do like
to judge when people can't he;help but tell me about
their bullshit. if you were addicted to booze and H
for ten years and got clean and now believe that Jesus
is the guy you need to thank, then God Bless You
pally, I mean it. But if you think I need to know
about Jesus because you think he saved you, then
please fuck off.

Because while you were out smoking and spiking and
having an admittedly good but sinful time, I was wide
fucking awake the whole time (except for the
occasional nap and beer and J in college) and I didn't
miss a single campus crusade preacher telling me what
a sinner I was because, apparently, I was fornicating
and sinning between watching movies in the library
basement media room. OK, some of those flicks were
R-rated, but still, a couple weren't.

I know Jesus as well as any addict, maybe better. And
between the Recovered and the Never Sinned types, i
don't know who's worse. Each group's got me pegged as
being worse than they are simply because I am not high
and mightying it around the earth trying to convert
the wicked.

I insist that I am in my own way, but consider this.
If you've never sinned, you don't know what you're
talking about and if you have sinned a whole bunch
more than me, you probably need to recalibrate your
judgment. Because my God is a loving God, too, and I
like to think he gives me credit for helping old
ladies open the door while some of these people were
busy rolling around in alleys with hookers (junkies),
handling snakes (thumpers) or rolling their eyes in
ecstatic rigor lost in the illusory state created by
their own personal delusion (both).

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