A Liquid Love Story

by Jimmie L. Rich

For many people, life within the 216 city limits was full of unhappiness. Poverty itself was enough to make the people sad, so everything else that came with growing up in the ghetto brought extra distress. If you were someone suffering from the conditions of poverty there was so many reasons to be pissed off. In most cases everybody had their own separate issues. And everyone's issue needed some kind of solution even if it was just temporary.

Some people temporarily escaped their poverty issues with entertainment. Music, television, and video games were the perfect temporary escape. Entertainment allowed one's mind to journey off into a fantasy land so far away from reality at times. Television and video games sometimes had the power to make you feel as if you were right there on the set. While music sometimes had the power to make you feel like you were along for the ride.

Others chose various types of alcohol and drugs as their form of temporary escape. It didn't even matter if the journey off to fantasy land was only for a few minutes. People still paid their money to go on an adventure. But similar to how people feel when a movie or a song goes off, once the high goes away it's usually back to that harsh reality. In the process many people end up pushing themselves even further into poverty all for the love of fantasy chasing.

Sex is also a temporary fantasy ride that provides more pleasure than entertainment and drugs combined. It can also become an addiction. And there is nothing like the experience of sex while high on some kind of drug. It makes sex much more stimulating as well as pleasurable. And although drugs such as heroin have been known to make muthafuckas bust nuts, there is still no comparison to that of an orgasm produced from the pleasures of sex with the opposite sex.

Junior's temporary fantasy drug of choice was PCP. Unlike the experience most people got from it, his was more of a dream-like experience in which he entered into a world that was full of peace. It helped him to temporarily escape the mental turmoil that came with living in a world full of pain and poverty. And while high on the drug he felt no pain. That alone was enough to keep him coming back for more.

Sometimes he would cut school to get away from everyone just to go somewhere where he could blaze up a nicely dipped cigarette all by himself. Junior was a short little light-skinned black boy who probably weighed about one-twenty-five wet. So one little dip-stick was all it took to take him straight up to cloud nine. Once the cigarette was completely down to the bud he would just lay back with a smile on his face as he slowly drifted away into fantasy paradise. His high would usually last for a few hours, then he would slowly drift back into the world full of harsh realities.

It wasn't long before this turned into a daily habit for him. And what was at first just a minor addiction that consisted of just one dipped cigarette per day quickly turned into two or three. Before he knew it he found himself hustling just to get high. And the more he did it the more his craving as well as his tolerance for it grew. After a while it took a half a pack of cigarettes just for him to get a buzz.

But he was in love; so he thought. In a world that could turn out to be very cold, sometimes a man, woman, or child can easily find themselves falling in love with whatever brings them some kind of pleasure. Junior was only a teenager but was already taking grown man doses of PCP. He was so locked into the pleasures of it that it never crossed his mind that he may have been moving too fast. And if you would have told him that he wouldn't have wanted to hear it.

Unless you were able to provide the pleasurable love that PCP provided then there was nothing you could do to convince him to slow his roll. So he continued on with his daily doses of dipped cigarettes with no worries nor cares. What he had no knowledge of though was how drugs such as PCP only provide love and pleasure for so long before it all of a sudden leads you down a dark and dangerous tunnel. A tunnel that usually leads to destruction. But because no one could tell him shit he was soon to find out on his own.

The dealer who was selling the shit to him knew Junior was too young to be fucking with it, but he still sold it to him. Like the mentality of most drug dealers he felt if that little nigga didn't get it from him he was only going to go get it from somewhere else. So he said fuck it and went ahead and made that money. The drug game had its way of slowly but surely stealing a nigga's soul as well as turning a nigga heart cold. So in a sense he was just doing what he believed he should do when money was on the table.

Junior; on the other hand, was just doing what most pleasure seekers do. He chose to cut the possibilities of some bullshit taking place out of his sight so that he could enjoy the drug to its entirety. But by doing so he also cut out all precautions that could have prevented him from making the worst mistake of his life. So one night he decided to get behind the wheel of a car and take a ride while highly under the influence of PCP. From there he jumped on the freeway and dozed off into paradise while going about eighty miles an hour. And this time he never came back from his journey into fantasy paradise.

A Liquid Love Story by Jimmie L. Rich

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