Non-fiction / I Have Cocaine On Speed-Dial
I Have Cocaine on Speed Dial
TV Mott
I really love Cocaine. I mean I used to really love Cocaine. No, I admit, I still, really, really love Cocaine, I just don’t get to cocainize anymore. No more getting coked. Not for the time being.
I capitalize Cocaine because it is my friend and my enemy, an actual entity that started out as a small pile of finely ground little powder in a folded up page from my latest copy of Playboy Magazine that morphed itself into a friend, a significant other, or lover, growing just inside my frontal lobe without any visual evidence of its presence. So it went from cocaine to Cocaine in just a few sniffs.
Cocaine is luscious, almost juicy to think about for me, which is funny since it is in fact further from a juicy substance than even sand can claim to be.
I enjoyed everything about Cocaine. I truly enjoyed trying to find it when I was out of it. I loved the thrill of it showing up and knowing for at least a few moments I didn’t need to look for it anymore.
The game of cloak and dagger hunting that I later simplified into speed dial ease was a game bordering the two continents of Need and Want. At first convinced my willingness to hunt for it was out of a simple desire to escape the confines of this sometimes clumsy reality we call life, I later realized my treks to various drop-off points and locals at erratic times of the day and night were because Cocaine had cleared out a little place for itself in my brain and decided to stay, while simultaneously taking hold of the discretionary function in my head that steers such simple actions as ATM card use.
I still shiver a bit at the thought of its smell as I opened each newly acquired bindle of vulnerable white rock. A mixture of ether, baking soda, and cocaine that was equally cutting to the nasal passages as it was to the heart.
Speaking of cutting, I loved that too. Cutting the yet to be crumbled rocks that each good bindle offered. I like to crush or smash it first with the edge of a Bic lighter, then push it into a neat little pile with my AAA Roadside Assistance card and cover it with a dollar bill. I would then grate the top of the bill with my neat little white pile under it with the edge of my AAA Roadside Assistance card and grind it into the finely ground powder that made me smitten.
Cocaine is a lover that has no feelings, no emotions, no ingredients that are even close to love, and everyone who gets in bed with Cocaine knows this in advance. Every lover of Cocaine knows going into the relationship that it will garner nothing positively romantic. For you or anyone or anything around you that does love. That’s the irony of this beauty hidden in the beast, it is so intriguing you so that even with historical reminders of lives destroyed, family’s ruined, legacy’s crumbled, and fame ripped from under the feet of so many it still somehow manages to have a bandwagon with limitless fans.
It makes noses fall off, it makes hearts stop ticking, veins close, lungs collapse, body’s convulse on the ground in violent fish out of water episodes of reality, It cleans out bank accounts and septum’s and an equal pace.
I am a creature of habit, and Cocaine and I created a streamlined relationship with our friend the Dealer that made it impossibly easily to acquire with little or no possibility of risk other than that applied to my nervous system once I had acquired it.
The house I inhabited during my Cocainism sat at the top of a hill, with a very long windy driveway that led to a fortress like metal gate and a security camera. My favorite human, The Dealer, would drop off an unusually beautiful cut off corner of a Glad Zip-Lock bag with a rock of that weeks current stock, tied by a very neat knot, and acutely snipped at the end by something sharp, (Probably a razor blade. Yummy, razorblades. Juicy, sharp cutting razor blades). The Dealer would drive his always brand new car halfway up my driveway, stick this little clear package in one of the knotholes in the fence that lined the bottom of my driveway. I could watch him drop it and leave from the security camera then mosey down at my convenience, and my lover was in my hands, and at the mercy of my Bic lighter before she knew what had hit her.
It does not discriminate, Cocaine. It does not have feelings, it does not care, it will take and it will break anything that crosses its path. It will kill you faster than you know even though you know it.
I felt my septum and all of its juices drying up yet I still wanted more, didn’t feel the pain, or liked it maybe. It tried to help me kill my marriage, my zest for life, my friendships, relationships, family, health, and it began to chip away at my emotional core. It tried to rip from me everything I had all while convincing me to chase something I thought I didn’t have, and might be able to have a chance at catching. It made me love no one but it, Cocaine did. And Cocaine I did, and still do love.
It fills me with anticipation, anxious bubbles dance in the back of my neck, and I love the feeling, and I hate the feeling. It lends me inspiration, jerking beautiful nonsense from my larynx via my tongue, for anyone in earshot to widdle me down, without my even knowing, to nothing more than a Coke Head. Another CAPITALIZED title to add to my dossier of frontal lobe relationships. I’m not even sure how these love affairs began.
I can always find it, Cocaine, but that’s nothing special I can find most drugs in most towns or city’s. With a bit of time for uninterrupted local observations I can track down most anything pertaining to or including, or enhancing debaucheries.
Cocaine is also unfaithful, or at least your friends are more than willing to indulge in a bit of your mistress if offered, and she of course can’t ever resist. In fact, most time Cocaine, or Coke, was around my table, not one of my friends had the ability to say no; not to my Mistress. If anything, a very lazy, “Oh, I better not was offered in response.
In which case I would say, “Come on, don’t be a pussy!”
This of course was always facetiously tossed into the ring of chatter to see if anyone was legitimately raised with an ability to actually do what is right based on the current dialogue in the room. But that never happened.
“Sure, OK, jus a little one,” They would eventually mutter in low toned library voice as I was taking my Bic lighter and AAA Roadside Assistant card to the shiny mirror displayed before me.
I had a tendency to stick my tongue down the throat of this lover in front of anyone and when I came up for air who knew what I would offer in dialog. My Cocaine did not always help me drift into the best light with company, which eventually led me into in an attic for many, many, nights alone, soul searching, mirror scratching, juicing the very life from my soul, mind and body, muttering nonsense to myself and pretending to be busy while actually doing nothing at all except anticipating another attempt to chase the dragon.
Everybody wants closure, unfortunately Cocaine does not offer this. Closure is not finding it, not looking for it, and forgetting about it. Closure is moving forward towards a possibility of a lower case cocaine. That is the only opportunity for closure..
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I love your writing style, you are able to convey the desires with such ease, creating some great images.
“I capitalize Cocaine because it is my friend and my enemy,” I think here it would work better if you didn’t explain this to the reader, as we are likely to pick up the reason pretty fast, so it seems unneeded.
I thought your in depth explanations worked well.
e.g the names of the items you used in conjunction with cocaine (the zip-lock bag etc)
Also loved this line: “So it went from cocaine to Cocaine in just a few sniffs.” I think this explains the capitalisation well without you actually having to say it.
If I’m being picky, I thought this part could be reworked slightly:
“(Probably a razor blade. Yummy, razorblades. Juicy, sharp cutting razor blades).”
e.g you could say, by something sharp, probably a luscious, mind-entrancing razor blade.
Okay, I know, not a GREAT example there, but I think something along those lines would work better.
Try not to repeat the same images, because you use juicy a lot. It works the first time but I think you should find another way to express this and create another image.
To be honest, i wouldn’t even go down the juicy route, as juicy is usually used to describe something edible and mouth watering, but I guess cravings can provoke that reaction!
On second thoughts, using it once is fine just try not to repeat.
There are a couple of typos I noticed when reading through:
e.g ”’Oh, I better not was offered in response.” You forgot to end the quotation here.
There was another typo I think further up…
This is a bit confusing:
“it is so intriguing you so that even with historical reminders”
I don’t think ‘you so’ is needed here.
Overall though, it’s brilliant!
I love your descriptions of the cravings, and the ending. Each of the different parts seems to fit together well. Structurally it has been very well thoughtout.
It’s a topic I’ve been focused on lately because I’m writing a novel with two cocaine addicts in it, so you really ahve to get into their shoes. Such great explanations.
Well done.
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A very good indictment of cocaine culture. I loved the way you use the metaphor of cocaine as a lover and the admission at the end that the user can never really get away from it. I take it from the quality of your writing that your creativity hasn’t been injured by kicking the habit. Good luck and keep writing.
I’m the type of writer who doesn’t like to tell my reader why I do certain things, so I wouldn’t start off the second paragraph with “I capitalize Cocaine because…” I’d just say “Cocaine is my best friend…” & hope that my reader would get the hint of me capitalizing Cocaine & talking about it as if it were a person. On the other hand Coke Head mught need a “capitalization explanation” just because it doesn’t show up as much as cocaine does. For the piece overall, I loved how it showed how much the person loved Cocaine and how much Cocaine obviously didn’t care for the person.
An interesting take on addiction – to call it a friend or a lover in the wake of loss of others. The repeated use of “juicy” to describe something which is obviously not – but isn’t this the word we use to describe a particuarly delightful lover? It’s apt here, too. Great choice of words.
The bullying and condescension at the end of the piece are quite revealing, as well – when you’re low, you want everyone else as low, or lower, than you are.
A few corrections/suggestions, now:
”...my friend and my enemy, an actual entity…” I think this might work better if reversed: ”...an actual entity, my friend and my enemy…”
”...cloak and dagger -hunting-...” this last is superfluous, but the rest of the line is good. The next line seems a little long – perhaps you could trim it a bit or break it up.
I got a little lost in the “cutting” descriptions, I must confess. The second “AAA Roadside Assistance” could probably be cut.
”...it will garner nothing -positively- romantic; not for you nor for anyone -or anything- around you -that- who does love.” If you’re discussing romantic love in any form, it’s probably best to avoid potential allusions to bestiality. ;)
”...families ruined, legacies crumbled…bodies convulse…septum’s… The plural forms of words ending with “Y” usually end in “ies”. Don’t use apostrophes for plurals.
”...-and- at an equal pace…”
”...made it -impossibly easily-...” Let’s try something like “ridiculously easy” or “insanely easy”, here. If it’s impossible, it can’t be done, right?
”...with a very long, winding driveway that led to a fortress-like metal gate…”
”...that -weeks- week’s current…”
“The Dealer would drive…halfway up my driveway, stick this little clear package in one of the knotholes in the fence that lined the bottom of my driveway.” This line is confusing, for me. Is he at the halfway point of the driveway, or the bottom of it? Is he walking from his car at the halfway point and putting the baggie at the bottom of it? Please, re-word this and make it clearer.
We don’t necessarily need to know that the car is “always brand-new”. Give us a make or model to give the image clarity.
”...it began to chip away at my emotional core” This could go at the beginning of the sentence, I think.
“It made me love no one but it, Cocaine did. And Cocaine I did, and still do love.” This reads too awkwardly, I think. Would you consider, “It made me love no-one else, and I did, and still do love Cocaine.”
”...-widdle- whittle me down…”
”...nothing special; I can find most drugs in most towns or -city’s- cities…”
“Cocaine is also unfaithful, or at least your friends are more than willing to indulge in a bit of your mistress if offered, and she of course can’t ever resist.” This line is quite awkward. Try re-wording to improve the flow.
”...most -time- times when Cocaine, or Coke, was around my table, -not one- none of my friends …”
”...If anything, a very lazy, “Oh, I better not,” was offered…”
”...to see if anyone -was- had been legitimately raised with an ability to actually do what is right -based on the current dialogue in the room-.”
“-But- that never happened.”
”...in low-toned library voice -as- while I was taking my Bic lighter and AAA -Roadside Assistant- card to the shiny mirror -displayed- before me.”
”...when I came up for air -who- no-one knew what I would offer in dialog.”
“Everybody wants closure; unfortunately Cocaine…”
The final lines about closure also need a little re-write, I think. Perhaps you could say “Closure means ” instead of “Closure is…”?
I hope you’ll find something useful here in what I offer. Good luck.
Hey TV’,
In non-fiction we’ve got at least couple of things going on at once. The first is the writing. On the whole, your style is damn close to professional. It WILL be when you get a slightly better grip on grammar.
“Will garner nothing positively romantic (should have a semi-colon here to tie those two sentences together as one) for you or for anything around you…”
“It is so intriguing (to) you so (omit the foregoing so) that even…”
Family’s and legacy’s crumbled. Families is the plural of family. Legacies is the plural of legacy. Apostrophes are used for the possesive conjugation. I.E.- the family’s dog got loose.
Cleaned out bank accounts and septum’s (another pesky mis-use of an apostrophe) and (should replace and with at) equal pace.
The sentence that begins, “I am a creature of habit…” needs a comma after aquire. In the same sentence, you use the adverbial form of the word easy when you should have used the adjectivial form because easy modifys the pronoun “it” and not any verb or other adjective.
As a general grammatical comment, your work could probably benefit from a few more commas.
Okay, now another component of non fiction is of course the subject. Your treatment of this is in my view brilliant. There is nothing here that I can critique. Honesty is the most incisive tool with which to hack into the reader’s psyche. You’ve got a stranglehold on honesty.
Another critical issue can be that of whether or not this article is autobiographical. Now, in my view, my delving into this issue may cross a boundary here; that you don’t want crossed. If so, just say so. But my take on these matters is that honesty has other qualities apart from the literary ones. Those would be the therapeutic ones. If it is your intent to replace Cocaine as a priority in your life, pretending that it doesn’t intice you will not be helpful to that process. I can commiserate with your personal circumstances (if indeed this article is autobiographical) to some extent with chocolate. I found a store in the nearest town to where I live that sells OUTSTANDING chocolate for CHEAP. Until I began to get obese and sluggish, I alsmost had that store on speed dial. So now I try not to pretend that I am not addicted, but I can hardly drive by that store without getting the shakes.
Good luck with all aspects of this project.
This struck me as an extremely honest and accurate description about having a former coke habit. I particularly admire how you offer no apologies or maudlin sense of remorse. If fact, I applaud that the entire tone of the piece is primarily nostalgic. Sure, you describe the negative consequences of abuse, but the piece as a whole comes off as a kind of eulogy for an old, abrasive friend. That’s how it is when you’ve actually been addicted to something. I think your use of language, description, and pacing is tight and economical and enjoy your writing style. It comes across as very authentic and without feigned posturing.
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