A handful of pills, cupped like water. An image of hope made modern. Water no get enemy. Cure the world. Feed the world. Large Pharma monopoly. A chemical hope falling through our fingers. The image does make me think of Fuzeon and Sub-Saharans but I also see Ecstasy in the midst of Neoliberalism`s no way back.
Twenty-three years ago I used to have a recurring dream that I had found a suitcase full of E on the street. A lifetime`s supply. I would hide it under my bed and I would never go without. Now I can`t remember the rush, but then it was all I cared for. I surrendered to a feeling of unity that in hindsight was really the opposite. A focus inward on self.
We were not unified. We were all together all alone. A nod of recognition was simply the acknowledgment of another in the grip of a celebration of I. If someone were to shake your hand, offer you water, a joint, a hug, a kiss, it was not “You`re great”, but “I feel great, and I want to tell somebody. Anybody.” It didn’t make us love everybody. It made us love ourselves to the point where we thought that everyone else should love us too. But this is in hindsight. At the time as my family fell apart I foolishly believed I`d found a new one, until “Take your brother by the hand” became “Fucking the rest right off” and spiraling abuse, debts and increasingly dangerous, darker, means of finance turned us from aspiring to be “something beautiful” to the toughest gang in town.
Another jubilee. This one silver. Getting high is getting high. Dreams through our fingers slip away.
Glass Siren / Damon Roberts` work can be viewed and purchased here