What were the bullets that shot you so full of holes, my love? Each judgemental racist look was a shot, so were the shouts of anger and the lack of proper food. You were bleeding out until you were cold, then criticised for not being warm. It's time for you to accept love as your drug to deal in, to let those who love you bring as much healing as is possible. We need to turn those bleeding wounds into scars and allow some time to fade them.
Hunger bites. Fear of eviction stabs. To watch your loved ones suffer is torture. To expect the broken to fly is cruel. To act as if the reality of drug dealing is a shock is stupidity.
Born for love, traumatised into a state of complete indifference for others, the suffering he was in was palpable. I knew he was a drug dealer. I knew how he got there though. So what I saw was the frightened boy inside, the one who needed to protect his mother and be fearless. Fixing all this now, for him, is so hard because he will always bear the scars. Back then, sixteen years ago, it would have been as simple as providing a comfortable life for his mother and letting her do the rest.
The capitalist solutions to poverty in that neighbourhood were drugs or success in music, hardly any different from the Victorians who proposed that the poor of England could marry, emigrate or die to be rid of their poverty. Today we look to the lotteries or fame, which is a lottery of sorts too. The obvious solutions of loving and caring for all, for the basic needs of every human and bring them out of the survival brain into their higher self has been so ignored. And so we go future and further down the easy road to hell, our bags packed and carried for us by public opinion - greed is good, might is right, compete, the fittest are by default the ones on top.... Is it any wonder that drug dealing has become so prevalent. If our only aim is money, if rich is good, if competing in ruthless ways is normalised and even applauded... this is just the logical consequence.
When the educated in society could have foreseen that the poverty into which he was born would render him traumatised and desperate, struggling for himself and his family to survive, he was a pure baby, a newborn.
Well, the first international drug dealer, that I'm aware of, backed up by guns and violence, was the British government. I read about the first Opium War. It was violence to make Indian people grow poppies and then violence to make China accept it as a trade for all manner of products the British government wanted. Guns and drugs Victorian style. The aristocracy basically took the same old war they'd waged on their own people for generations and exported it to a global scale. Total psychos.
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