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THE DOPE FEIGNS DREAM by Mark Anthony Given

TO HOLD A PEN is to be at war. #VOLTAIRE

               THE DOPE FEIDNS DREAM was sitting on a motel bed along the interstate forty-five minutes from ground zero or the New Orleans French Quarter in a faded Superman pillow case off my girlfriend's bed in Gentilly.  Now it was slap full of Schedule II Narcotics I liberated from Tony's Discount Drugs I successfully burglarized and described in "The Real Drugstore Cowboy," down at the bottom of this blog.  And now every dope feigns dream was at hand.  Dollar signs were shooting off like sparks in the corner of my eye's and everything motion I made dumping them out on the big double room bed, the room started to spin an elation from the center of my being in every direction I couldn't stop smiling I was about to piss my pants or take a good dump I needed to get in the shower immediately I was soaked from humidity at seven o'clock in the morning.  Had to be forty or fifty bottles or whatever filled up the bottom of a large aluminum pharmacist draw.  Desoxyn 5 & 15 milligram.  Dilaudid in the hundreds! Percodan, Demerol, Seconal, Placadyl, two-quart bottles of liquid Tussionex Suspension. 
Prelude 75 ml.  Need I go on? 
             PEAKED OUT THE
MOTEL curtains the worlds was hauling ass by, people were checking out, housekeeping at the end of the run, I felt like I was in a dream that turned into reality and I wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't, looking back on it, it seemed the crime to obtain the criminal substance was making me higher than the substance.  That make any sense?  Anyway, there were no police sirens or shouts to "Come out with your hands
up!"  It was time to get high....

To be continued....
11:03 AM 7/3/2015

Copyright 2015 by Mark Anthony Given All Rights Reserved 28 USC 1746, Invoking 90 Stat. 2541 and Article 2(4) of the Berne Convention for the 
Protection of Literary and Artistic Works

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