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I contend there was a moment in history
when G-twn had the highest rate of MDMA use in the world,
And I was there at the heartbeat of it all.

At the start of this story
there was a great recession
and those pills were our savior.
They led us into the dark, wherein I found myself.

We went camping at an abandoned hotel and I took a half.
I was 17, and it was special. I don't regret it, but looking back
on the years that followed is difficult. It felt medieval. Youth
spent in search of a better life. All we had was faith, Session
be praised. All sorts of slang and substances
were slung around the town.

I finished school and didn't look back. My heart belonged to G-twn.
I was 18. I spent a summer as a runner and something of an addict.
Then I went to uni, and my closest G-twn friends were all there.
It was class. I smoked a lot of ****. At some point I did acid.
On New Years I went all in and burned myself out,
After this I cleaned up and actually studied for the rest of the year.

G-twn does strange things to one's memory, blends all your nights
into one. People always seemed to be around.
I was 19, still getting a feel for the scene.
I started going to raves. They were great
but one night I got some bad pills, I could have died.
Scared me wise for a lifetime. I had been so careless.
Thenceforth I began doing more thorough research.
I discovered the dark markets. Safety became my priority.
I realized how deeply I cared for my people, my city,
That my happiness is dependent on them, others.
This helped me forget my issues.
I was at ease in college, among my colleagues.
We treated campus like an extension of our living room.
I felt like I belonged. There were so many groups, so much time
spent among people as diverse. I trusted my friends, together
we became well-acquainted with psychedelics. We were
a cadre of psychonauts, and I was so proud.

We'd come so far from our audacious beginning,
Kids coming-of-age in The Great ReSession.
I was 20. I left to live abroad for a year
and when I came back G-twn was just as I'd left it,
But I was different.
Upon my return
the heartbeat was arrhythmic.
Here's to all those the lost memories.

In time MDMA's rampant popularity waned,
Abetted by garda crackdown. Now drug use is as dominated
by ***** ******* and sweet cannabis as it was dear ecstasy.
The wave's broken against the land.
There are still those who praise, the odd cabal of psychonauts
who get their dark research done,
A cadre dedicated to those arts.

I continue to taste new psychoactives when I've the time,
Sadly it's become something of a lone venture of late.
Nevertheless, I think exploration a good-in-itself.
Knowledge for knowledge's sake and all that.
I am 25 now. I wonder whose mind this is.
In 2017 Irish drug users had the highest "average number of days of ecstasy (MDMA) use... by country"
ari Feb 2020
all i am is an inconvenience.
i want a gun. i want to use it.
i want to be forgotten.
i want to cut my skin off.
i want to be thin.
i want my face to bleed.
i want to feel things.
i don’t think i’m depressed.
i just want to blow my ******* brains out.
i never want to die.
i wish god was with me.
i want a bigger tv.
i want a nice house.
i want a dog.
i want people to share my life with.
i want my daydreams to come true.
i want to say what i want instead of holding myself back.
i want to be funny.
i want to be poetic.
i want to be smart.
i want elise.
i want dad.
i want the nightmares to disappear.
i want to be something instead of nothing.

i want to know what i want.
i don’t like school. i do like school.

i want a car.
i want to stop wanting.
journal excerpt from 2017; when i was 16.
Robin Lemmen Jan 2020
You loved me so wrong it felt right. When you didn't say goodbye and ran off to catch the last bus because I am nothing if not wasted time. When you kissed your sister on the cheek but wouldn't let me kiss you on the lips, what was that about?

I hope I am a nice memory because you're not really one in mine. Sure we had good times, way back when we danced through the kitchen and you pulled me into your lap. When you held my hands and crawled over the table to kiss my forehead. But did you know that every time you stayed silent, the depths within me grew exponentially? So I grew big and hollow with millions of loving words written in diaries and poems. Left for dead and uninvited to your bed. Let's talk about that. When you heard me cry, felt my body shake from trying not to break, I know you registered that, I know you wanted to be anywhere but there. Why didn't you just say so? I wasn't strong enough to. I let you sleep through my nightmares and even made you breakfast. I should have left you, back in 2017. But I was hopeful and naive. Guess my friends were right. You did teach me everything I never want again so thank you for that. I sound bitter and full of resentment. It's mostly towards myself, why the **** did I stay? I deserve someone who's arms are the safest place on earth not the spitting image of pain.
Colm Aug 2019
You — And your quiet glow — Make me feel like a serene ripple. Like a blessed wish on a prior day.

You — And all that every human eye has seen — Scatter rippling white lights, all across this distant horizon of me.

May the shadow of the this glorious moon fall gently on a world of peace.
beatrice May 2019
was going into that small Iceland diner
with only wool socks over black leggings
on my skinny tanned shins
(red Converse, soaked with saltwater,
still drying in the rental car,
sticky licorice jammed between seats).

Don't remember what I ordered,
only remember the way the waitress
smiled at me, in spite of my feet.
I felt so strongly that I was breaking
an unspoken rule—little did I know
how many I'd break in the months to come.
wrote this really fast
Asonna Feb 2019
Fields of the evening, Long grass in the breeze
and a river down her face.
Dark flecks in the sky, it's all a blur,
the magpies all fly home.
Black trails linger down her arms,
Smudged and damp to the touch.
Hyperventilisation with every scarse breath,
And realisation begins to creep in.
She can't go home..
She can't go home...

         ... I can't go home.

Life that we know, is not, as we think it is  

In the present we miss at times, both
what could have been and what will be

as from the drawers of our lives we
pull out and savour memories while
riding the illusion of replacing time

but sometimes forgetting  that the past
drawn to the present will not sustain
and eventually recede to allow for the
flow of time future to find it’s age, and

life will remain a short tenancy with
a changing lease that time witnesses
without interference at every birth
and in the process we learn a few true
things as time tells your mind’s despair ----  

why lament,  life’s canvas was empty
at birth and will return to it’s state
when you leave, as you brought nothing
and will take nothing, but will leave
behind your life’s colours on my being
to hold  for posterity, as divined in time.

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