Love And Narcotics

/hihi

Love, a word that makes me cringe in utmost despair /shock .Yet fortunately for me my natural hate for it has completely turned. Not too long ago I fell in love=D>, and I fell hard! /blush. I’ve been involved in a very serious relationship for a while now, who would have known that I’d fall in love so quickly. Ever since the day we met, that beautiful day.A day that changed my life, had it not been for My Love I would not know what the true meaning of love is. Her name, her sweet name…..Marijuana/blush.

For the love of Weed

I’ve been blazing for a while now, one of my new year resolutions were to stop smoking, point me in the direction of one whom can resist her sweet scent! Last Friday, was weed galore! The weed was coming in from all directions, it was haven. After school, we let the sweet angelic fumes bless us with its intoxicating pleasure. It puzzles me that once the weed burns; you come out a different man. Before you smoke you’re all serious and stiff about alotta shit, but when you high all your troubles melt away and burn with the rizzler. You become a new you, I become a new me! The real me, The fucken Awesome me!/wahaha

I love the feeling, the whole package including the munchies. Every time I get high it’s as if I’m in a movie.

We puffed our problems away, walking down from school wasn’t too shabby until we came across another group of friends rolloing /please. What a blessed day. So as natural instincts overcame us we smoked yet again. How fucken high were we….It was amazing because that joint refused to finish, because I was high I’d even forget that I was smoking only to find that the glorious joint kept making its way back to me. Does this not sound like the best day EVER?A group of teenagers fully clothed in school uniform walking in the streets smoking weed,just the way this country should be because weed joins nations together. It really does bring people together. It united us; we are all one in the weed. You may really dislike someone, but you can both settle your differences over a freshly lit joint.

Marijuana, my love. :D

*I would have loved to mentions the names of the people I was smoking with, for the protection of their identities I am not liable to say.

With the munchies on our fucken backs my friend and I made our way to McDonalds, were we fierce fully devoured and munched away. That was the first time in a long time that I smoked weed in such a large amount all in one day. Those joints came in large amounts, they came just for me.

Me really drunk at Jackson Dam with Thuli

I am a self confessed weed lover, but most of all I am a self proclaimed alcoholic. Yes that’s right, I’m not afraid to say it. You know you’ve seen me at those parties acting all crazy, well I am the self anointed ambassador for alcoholics. I’m sick of the stigma against teenagers who find comfort in the consumption of an alcoholic beverage /shock. There are good and bad alcoholics you know. I’m one of those that don’t drink all the time and don’t really find the relevancy to drink all the time, but when I get my hands on the Great giggle juice, I make sure I go all the way /hmm.See at least I don’t do It all the time, although I do recognise that it is a problem. Fuck that as long as I’m cool with it, fuck what everyone else has to say. And to the haters Shut the Fuck Up, your opinions have never mattered and they never will. I’m a naturally born party-harder, I can’t help that I’m a lot of fun!

/bye /bye /bye

Proud Boozer and Blazzer

*Gran(^~^)Dad*

Shoplifter's Paradise

I have absolutely no reason why I started shoplifting. To me it was looking at the situation and seeing me benefiting from it. It all started last year (2011), a friend of mine and I decided to look around a small boutique that had just opened not too far from home. That Boutique was packed with really cool stuff, a lot of stuff that I wanted at that!:D.

Steeling was very unfamiliar to me, I had never been encouraged to ever take a belonging that was not mine. There was only one person working in the store, and two of us. At first when I look back I can see how innocent it was back then, before I began to plan my evil doings. 

I left the store feeling quite blue, I had finished my money earlier that day and there were a lot of things that I would have loved to have purchased in that shop. After we turned the corner, my friend took out a huge blinged up watch, astonished I asked her what she had done. I knew she had not bought it because we both had no money; my gasp was only masked by her classically silly pout. What had she done! She had wanted it, she had really wanted it. She didn’t have the R450 on her, so she took it.

The last words I heard from her that afternoon as we departed after a long and strenuous day were “This is it, this is how the world works. It’s either you play along or you get squashed. It’s survival of the fittest dude”, after several hours of evaluation I realised she was right.Those watches were pricy and I knew my mother would never get them for me. I had to get them myself; after all I’ve always had my back!

The following day I informed my friend that I was in. We planned our shit well; we had code names, hand gestures and nods of communication.

The rules were:

1..Don't take more than you nee,don't get greedy

2.If you get cuaght you're on your own. 

3.Never discuss the things we do with anyone!. 

4.Don't take anything you don't need

All went according to plan for a couple of months. The goods were coming in at regular intervals. I was happy. I was hardly ever happy, so this-the one thing that made me happy I knew I had to hold onto it for dear life. My friend and I were the shit, we kept our business underground but we were doing very well in the business. We would never go for big stores, stores with camera’s or metal detectors and stores with no more than 2 people working in them. This seems like a heavy list hey, but we seemed to get ourselves around with the precautions. After one month we had shoplifted over R3500 worth of stuff. This lifestyle seemed easy and beneficial to us, made our lives a lot smoother /hmm. We were rolling in cash; we would sell the goods for an even larger profit. As we had anticipated the guilt of theft gradually slipped our consciences. We stopped feeling guilty and ashamed, rather such armature feelings and thoughts were replaced by cheerful gestures of encouragement to one another. Every time we had a “job” we would firmly shake hands before. A gesture we used to recall all the terms and conditions of the job, all the consequences. We understood them all, the possibility of getting caught. The humiliation, the criminal record! The thrill of gambling with my possible future was intoxicating, ravishing. I had to have more!/XD

One particular job didn’t go as well, one job went sour. Before I knew it I was hooked, and with addiction comes selfishness with that comes greed. Scouting the mall one day with my friend I had taken something that I didn’t need, I had defied the rules. A Grey’s Anatomy DVD. Had I known that the motherfucken had a sensor, my life would have been different today. As I left the music store the store metal detectors went absolutely nuts, they went off./floor. I had never taken the expression”I was shitting my pants” very seriously until that day. My heart was beating like a bitch in heat and I was sweating as much as a swine. This was it, and then someone helped me. Not my friend, but myself. As I stood there frozen, my natural protective instincts kicked in. I had to protect myself, because I always had My own back. I quickly turned around and walked into the store wearing and angry expression as if I wasn’t guilty. As the cashier came towards me I skilfully took the DVD out and slide it back onto the selves/sweat. She didn’t see me, but there was no fucken way that those cameras didn’t see that shit. Saved! I was off the hook, uncaught. My friend’s comforting words were not to worry and such things happen to make us stronger in the game. I didn’t think so, I was so fucken scared that day that I decided not to ever shoplift in my life again! I swore to my friend and myself not to do that shit again. When I look at it all now, it isn’t worth it. SO I decided instead of shoplifting, why not just steal cash!/wahaha

Another true life story

*Gran(^~^)Dad*

Hustle Face On

The immature teenage years, the most bizarre yet crucial. The years were young adults do absolute shit and simply blame it on their sensitive and raving hormones. These such years are normal, according to those under the sun.

The beginning of every school year, the period of tiredness from the wildly notorious December hollies. So many occupied bullets on your “Need’s Sheet”, so many things to do. So much items to purchase. I needed a lot of money, a lot of it at that! Desperate for some petty change. I decided to repeat the yearly routine of marking up textbook prices in order to make myself a decent profit, for the average necessities.

Let me give you an idea of these such prices:

Requirement             Initial amount         My new amount

1.    Life Sciences       R75                           R150

Textbook

2.    Maths Past           R40                           R100

Paper Book

3.    Non-existent          -                               R250

Consumer

Studies Money

4.    Matric Jacket        R390                         R495

                                            Total:           R995

That’s alotta money hey, especially if you don’t have it to begin with. I was sure the ‘job’ would go smoothly as it had for several years prior to the present.

I had informed my parents since mid-January, I wrote it all down on a list. The list had to be taken seriously /shock. I enforced a lot of unnecessary pleasure on my parents, once again I had to play the full role. I had to be serious about it all. On the eve of the due date of all prices (31 Jan ’12),I reminded my parents that the money had to be in the following day, and that I would expect absolutely NO excuses. Richard (dad) decided to ruin my bloody life and stated that he would visit the school to question my somewhat bogus prices. Unfortunately for me Richy happens to be a man of his word.

I knew it was too good to be true when my form teacher summoned me outside the classroom to hear for herself why I would commit such an indecent, cruel act of sin.

As if it wasn’t obvious, I Need Money! It’s already started; they’ve already started looking at me differently. I see it all in just one look; they all think I’m a dishonest shitty kid. Ha-ha  well maybe I am, who gives a shit, because I surely don’t . They nail me down with their pierceful eyes, but they don’t know it all. They don’t know My story.

My maths teacher expressed her views on the presented topic, going on about how the person “who did it” would have surely lost the trust of their parents for a long time. What’s my opinion on that , you should know that I wouldn’t give a rats ass about that shit.”Lose” trust hey? How do I lose something that I never had? How do I feel remorse for something I was never entrusted with? It simply can’t be.

What I can say about this dilemma is that, if given the opportunity once more I would do it again no doubt .In a heartbeat at that!

Later that day I was summoned into the bedroom of my parents, as I tried to tackle my science homework things got a little heated in there. The first order of business was laid on the table with the question of “Why I Did It?”.As if it wasn’t obvious, I needed money damit. They then asked me why I had not asked for it instead,” Really” was my response “...Asking you for money is always an unsuccessful mission. Always in vein” At that moment I was convinced the questions I was asked were specially constructed and plotted just to irritate me to the brim-full. Indeed. Only to be answered with a rather inconsiderate response of “If we give you money you will indulge yourself with booze and fags, with our hard earning money”. I am understanding, I’m not the most of innocent offspring but one never knows until they give me a chance. Am I right. They can’t assume things they haven’t tried, because it’s inconsiderate and just plain bitchy/nobigdeal. But as usual, my feelings are never taken into account. I’m not trying to make this all about myself like most teenagers tend to do; there will be none of that here. I’m just a self anointed Realist.

I informed them that they could keep their money if they want; because I was gonna hustle for cash. Some of us realize this later than others but when you like me you realize at 17 that this is a tough world, and it’s always YOU first. Some, correct that, most of the time you have to step on people to get what you want, in my case I have to try incorporate lies to plot against my own parents just to get some cash out of them. Jay-Z wasn’t lying when he said “It’s a hard not life”. Of course there are kids out there that have it a lot tougher than me, but everyone has stumbling blocks in their lives and this one is one of mine.

Until I device a plan to get money

*Gran(^~^)Dad* 

Locked Up....!

December 16,a day that seemed blissful. A day where the youthful live their lives the best they can, a day I tried to celebrate with the rest of our beautiful nation-South Africa. After I had completed my chores that late morning, I got ready to spend the rest of the promising day at one of my good friend, Roxy’s house. It was a Friday, all the better.

Got to Roxy’s, first things first Bottles Up! There were a considerable amount of people at Roxy’s house, from aunts to friends and friends of friends. Once the good time got to me I began to lose track of time, I promised my mother that I would text my father(Richy , for the sake of this blog).The music was loud and the thrill of having people around me excited me. I don’t usually go out you know, you can think of me as a suburban prisoner. The only time I ever do shit is after school(Lol or if I sneak out but those days are over since Richy found out and beat me up!),this statement is evident in my previous posts. I was having alotta fun, until Roxy informed me that Richy was at the gate looking for me. Shit! So I tried to convince him to let me stay a while longer, I even asked Roxy’s mom to drop me off at home later on and she agreed. She personally spoke to Richy, he refused. As I pled Richy thought it was smart to hit me across the face, really do you know how many people were there and saw that shit.

Roxy’s mother was right there standing next to me. But me, I was on some “Awwww hell…”, when crazy Richy struck again. Now I was pissed. So I refused to go with him. I walked away. He drove after me, got outta the car and literally chased me down the street. Of course I was quicker, there were so many people spectating *Embarrassed*.I hid out till he left, he came back I still refused to leave with him. Then the third time he came around he wasn’t alone. Richy went to a whole different level, nigger called the cops on my ass.

When I heard Roxy say to me “GranDad, your dad’s here with the cops”. I was a man about it, I got up and faced the music, Richy confirmed that “I Was the One” and they haled me into the car, were I was met with a starch faced Richy. Off to the station we went, I was questioned whether I had consumed any sort of drug, I agreed and said I had only had a few drinks. I wasn’t drunk. Richy kept insisting that I was on drugs because I had behaved in a manner that was unfamiliar to him, the police were convicted I was a shitty kid. My vision of the story fell on deaf ears, they refused to hear me out. I tried asking and figuring out why I was there, no one answered me. I later found out that Ricky had taken me there to open a case of Harassment against me for that night. Hands up if you think Ricky is NOT crazy!!!

So they detained me, Ricky leaving me seated in a corner in the charge office.

Then the worst night of my life began.

At about 1:45am,a good hour after my arrival I had grown tired and numb from sitting on the floor, so I asked for the toilet to stretch my legs. Granted. I freshened up and got back to my appointed post, I didn’t sit yet, the idea of that cold floor tired me so I stretched a bit more. A female officer came raging at me telling me to “SIT DOWN”.I explained the reason for my position, she didn’t care. You could see it in her eye’s, she was practising her authority. I agreed, but tried to push my luck a little and stretched bit more. She started to become violent and push me down screaming SIT DOWN, she was getting real crazy so I pushed her away from me. I remember her saying “Awwww we have a cheeky one…”,she went all Buck Wild on my ass, she swung me round making me lie on the table.

She was on top of me, assaulting me. I tried kicking her off, that didn’t work. So the next best things were my hands. I scratched her the best I could-The worst actually. The bitch retreated, she was going on about how I scratched her so I just went back to my spot and sat down. She and another unidentified police office came over to beat me up. They finally stopped, the bitch officer was taken to hospital and thus she decided to lay a case of assault against me.

That's what they did

After the beating I was so pissed I started swearing all of the officers in the charge officers.All sorts of harsh curses, you  know calling them uneducated stupid bastards and shit. That’s when the Brackendowns police station went all out. Two police officers came charging at me, hitting, punching and kicking me harshly all over my body. Mostly kicking though, because I was seated on the floor with my legs folded towards my chest, and arms around my legs. I’m not a dumb idiot, I obviously tried to get up but my efforts were in vain because I was kicked back down. They kicked me like a dog, over and over and over again.20mins of hell, and just when I thought things would get worse another male officer joined in on the fun. If you ask me what was going on though my mind at that exact moment, all I could think was ‘How much longer, just a while longer don’t worry. Hold on, just a while’.

 As they kicked me like a dog with all their might, I remember certain kicks that hit my ribcage and at those very moment I couldn’t breathe, my lungs contacted and refused to budge, I got many of those, I’d have to sit there while being almost beaten to death my 3 full grown male officers, but simultaneously trying to revive my collapsed lungs. Now THAT was hard!

Eventually, the kicks weakened. They had grown tired. They finally stopped after a non-stop kicking routine, they were exhausted. While I,I was battered, my blood was all over the floor, all over my clothes, all over my face and hands. I left for the toilet were I lay on the floor, in my cubical tears homogenetised with poring blood. Within my sobs I asked for a miracle, my spark of hope was shattered when an officer standing at my locked cubical door demanding I get out. Oh shit, they haven’t had enough…….




Right across from me, on the dull white wall lay a clock. That damned clock kept ticking, I’d count those ticking’s. Hoping that at that moment Richy, the very man I despise would walk in through the door, and stop the ritual. No Richy. I was held by the hair by one hand by an unidentified office, and with the other brutally punched in the face at close range. Such things were “normal” that night. They’d beat me again before they left for their rounds, and again when they came back to relieve their stressful unsuccessful mission. On and on. They told me I was shit, and that they’d make sure I would get it! And so I did.



At about 5am, I heard Richy’s voice; I didn’t look up because I didn’t want my face to be seen. I was even more relieved when I heard my mother’s voice. Still I didn’t look up. The new shift of officers had come in, I know this because the previous shift had given me a farewell beating. My crimes were explained to Richy and mummy, we were all called into an office and that was when they both saw my face. My mother cried, I explained the whole incident. Richy told the present officer to drop the charges and we wouldn’t say anything about my present condition. The officer admitted that he couldn’t do it, because he had not opened the case.



After many x-ray scans and medical check up’s, it was concluded that no bones of mine were broken. I just had severe bruising and swelling. Richy was sure to let me know that I was wasting his time and money, telling me it was my entire fault. He till this day is not afraid to stand by his statement. I have to attend plenty court appearances, or else I’m a jailed goner. While Richy goes on about “I’m never gonna do this again, taking you to court and shit. Next time you’re on your own. This is all your entire fault, I have nothing to do with all of this…”.This guys must be malfunctioning .IT’S ALL YOUR FUCKEN FAULT RICHY!!!!!







At the end of it all, the lawyers advised we drop the charges. I was told that it was a waste of time and those such cases are always ignored and never even looked at,the loss of dockets as well. Let’s give it up for the South African Police Service, the worst service I’ve seen in my Life!

Anyway, I’ll always remember that horrid day, I re-live it every day. It’s a part of me; It has made me stronger….

Thanks for Your Empathy

*Gran(^~^)Dad*



The F***er Richy