A William S Burrough’s junkie withdrawal technique straight from the long-drawn drawl of William S Burrough’s himself, experienced through the cosmic infinite consciousness that is every other known user that has come since that-their soul did depart this here dimensional plane.
You see… it’s all well and good to be a user, to have a habit, hell you can even be dependent upon it. But once you become addicted. Once there are better things in your life that you want to stop for, but you can’t stop for. Well… you are addicted. You are not just dependent…
But pride does come before the fall. And so for those out there unwilling to step from dependency into full-blown addiction, I give you the William S Burrough’s outback withdrawal method, experienced with dimensional eyes of a one H. Alex Brownsmoke. Now firstly what’s you gots to do is, however you score, whether it’s from your man down the road, from an internet portal and a postman, your doctor. Hell, you might even grow the shit yourself, refine it, extract it at 9.6 alkalization, cook it off with some acetic anhydride and make it yourself. Either way what you’s got to do is get yourself maybe about a gram (I think is fair). It’s what William probably would have used. Or as he would put it- about fifteen grains, maybe twenty. Any way it’s enough to get most people by, (dependent on your dependency) it’s enough to get most users by for between three days and maybe five days.
Which means you got between three and five days to get in whatever most suitable vehicle of transport you might be able to acquire, that might be a bus- greyhound cross-country, it might be an express train to the other side of the continent, it might be your own four wheels and no direction but away from where your man resides. Well maybe not your man perse, but your main stay. You got’s to get away from where your main stay resides. And you go. You go, and you go and you go and you go. You go to where eventually you may have travelled two thousand kilometres. And then you are gonna run out. It’s not gonna be fun. You’re gonna lock yourself up in some air-conditioned hotel, hostel and prepare. Consider it a treat. After all that money you wasted on all that fucking dependency. Treat yourself to four or five days in a five-star luxury resort. Even though you’re going to be spending most of that time shivering, and sweating, and pukin.
And of course only the most damn dim witted of fools is gonna go solo on this adventure. I would highly, highly recommend, as William S Burrough’s would agree: Bring yourself a couple boxes of Valium, a fuck ton of Phenergan, some codeine if you can acquire it, and any other gentle step-down chemicals you may happen upon. Hell- I have even heard of some who buy themselves 2 kilos of pure poppy seeds which they then go and mix with pineapple juice, shake
it up in a very, very big bottle, strain it, and drink the poppy seed pineapple juice. Apparently, it’ll stave off the worst of them withdrawals just enough to get you by.
You’re gonna ride at the worst of the physical effects, a very, very, very, far ways away from where you score. Which means, you are in it for the long-haul baby. Coz by the time you get back to the man, the acquisition point, the place where score, where you so be able to, how do I put it? So be able to wish to taste that sweet mercy one last time… You got a lot of miles underneath your feet to contemplate your choices. And you ain’t even gonna be able to begin those miles until you’re physically functional. Then once your physicality returns, you’re gonna go through fits and bursts. You’re gonna feel great, and you’re going to crash, and you’re gonna feel awful. And then you’re going to feel great. Then you’re gonna crash and feel awful again.
And then you’re gonna be able to start wearing a T-shirt again, and you’re gonna say ‘Man it feels good to have my elbows in the Sun. Fuck me it has been a long time since these elbows have seen some sunshine.’ Then you’re gonna look down, and you’re think, ‘Oh well looky at all those good times you had there, and you’re gonna think, No. Them’s not good times, them’s bad times. And you’re gonna wrestle this duality. This wrestling’s gonna go on for days, and days and days. Because you are so far away from The Man that you couldn’t even get to The Man if you wanted too. It’s just physically un-possible.
Which gives you plenty of time to decide what you really want to do.
You a clearly dependent, but not addicted. Well not too addicted that you can’t cast yourself off into unknown nowhere’s, nowhere, not how without being able to function like regular civilian. But of course, you already knows this being that you too share the soul of that fine fellow William S Burroughs inquisitor. And we say, ‘What’s the point?’
Well, I hope you got some fine thing in your life to hold on to, to give yourself some sort of anchor point, because without a purpose, a reason to steady up. Well it takes you right back to the top of that wheel again. Which is, ‘Well hey we’re all gonna die anyway, so’s may well real feel good in the meantime. And I think that’s what happens in the back of every junkie’s mind, the first time they step over that line. They go, ‘Well we’re die anyway, fuck it, most people die a hard horrible death and they get plied with a shit anyway. May’s well enjoy it. I don’t know. You tell me. Anyway them’s be some interesting investigations from the cosmic wisdom of a one William S Burroughs as learned by the many souls who’ve travelled this line of enquiry. H.A.B 2024
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