Planes futuros

A few years ago, I watched an interview with the wife of a big time drug dealer responsible for the destruction of many weak and vulnerable souls. She was defending her man as most mafia wives do. Somehow those greedy anorexic bitches always find a way to justify the actions of their psychopathic and nefarious husbands.

The moral code of the mob wife is incredibly simple:

''I don't care how you do your work, honey. As long as we live in a castle, and my jewelry costs as much as an apartment in the heart of New York, I'll ride with you.''

This delusional woman refused to admit that the fortune of her family had reached its grandeur on the back of many ruined lives. She had a rather pitiless way of rationalizing the way drug dealers operate.

''Can a drug dealer causing so much suffering sleep at night,'' asked the journalist.

''Nobody forces you to buy anything! My husband is not putting drugs in people's veins. People do it to themselves,'' said the mob wife and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her Victoria Beckham style, or should I say lack of style, purse and added: ''You see this? It's the same thing.

The box says cigarettes cause death, and yet we are still buying them.''

After a few more minutes I switched to another video. This benumbed female humanoid was neither interesting nor aesthetically pleasing enough to deserve any more of my attention.

Nevertheless, her explanation stuck with me, and I tried to analyze it.

If I take a bottle of poison, write ''killing you softly'' on the label and give it to my customers, am I an evil killer or a smart businessman?

Is it a crime to take advantage of people's stupidity?

And most importantly, who should take the blame? The anemic souls that do not have the strength to resist self-destruction or me?

Undoubtedly, anyone who takes advantage of high-end idiots to the point where they suffer terrible consequences is an immoral personal, even though there are no drug dealers willing to admit this truth. The most heinous criminals do not even bother to include DEADLY on the label of their products. They replace it with COOL and HEALTHY.

I've never taken dope or opiates, but I have been offered on a few occasions.

The first time it happened I was a 4^th grader. I remember being outside, trying to make sense of the snow covering the city when an older boy, probably in his late teens or early 20s, approached me and asked:

''You smoke, brah?'' ''No,'' I answered.''

''This is dope brah, it will give you wings, brah,'' he added and handed me a joint.

Since I was instructed to never take anything from strangers, I gladly refused. He then began the do-you-want-to-be-a-gangsta-boy speech – a trick meant to make his offer more attractive. I don't know whether it was my 4^th grader brain or my 4^th grader fear, but I refused and ran away.

This dope distributor gave me a valuable lesson at an early age.

He showed me The Way of the Drug Dealer.

Professional drug dealers don’t just stand in front of you and say: ''This is dope. It will make you feel good for 30 minutes, but ultimately it will kill you. Want some?'' They are much smarter and know that only unaware amateurs rely on the direct approach to complete a mission. The pros use a special tactic. The never sell poison directly. Instead they contaminate the water.

Furthermore, drug dealers are always looking for vulnerable individuals. Confused representatives of generation iFone with rich dads penetrating the secretary regularly make some of the best targets.

***

Drugs come in all shapes and forms. You don't have to be a cocaine lord to rule over people through abuse of master psychology and back stabbing. You simply need an illusion and someone willing to buy it.

A popular example would be a hot woman lying to a naive emo loser that he is the best she's ever had only to milk him until his only blanket is the frozen pavement outside.

This reminds me of a compelling story.

A guy I knew faced a serious dilemma – to have sex with a 10/10 girl or not?

Here's the short version: Mr. ChickenBurger is eating junk food to support his acne when an expensive black BMW SUV with tinted windows stops next to him.

A 10/10 girl opens the front door ever so slightly and starts a conversation:

''Do you want to have passionate monkey sex with me, wonder boy?'' ''Are you serious?''

''Yes.''

''Are you serious?''

''Yes. Do you want to fuck me hard or what,'' says the girl and makes a grimace that could cure the erectile dysfunction of a skeleton.

''How much?''

''Oh, boy! For you, it's free to ride.''

The woman is so hot that the desire of Mr. ChickenBurger to cooperate earns him a miracle – his dick gets fundamentally bigger and never returns to its previous size.

I wasn't there, but I am pretty sure the experience felt as ridiculous as finding a new car in your garage. Since when are 10/10 girls offering sexual pleasures to average guys dressed in mickey mouse approved apparel?

Mr. ChickenBurger admitted that he thought about the question really hard but decided to say no. It was the right decision because you never know what it's in the cake. In his case, it was something really, really bad, and yet he was not able to sleep for a few nights, thinking he’d missed his biggest chance to infiltrate the temple of a 10/10 girl. In reality, however, this was

simply an opportunity to get robbed, beaten to death or lose a kidney over a stupid bitch.

Who knows? Maybe she had AIDS too.

That's why I cannot accept the self-righteousness of the drug dealer's wife even though she tries really hard to believe herself.

I guess repeating ''We don't kill our customers, they kill themselves.'' makes sleeping in a golden bed bought with five tanks of blood much easier.

***

There are many similarities between the drug business and the Grand Mechanism, which is essentially the biggest drug kingpin on Earth. The Masters project a dream that you want badly, only to take everything you have – money, health, soul, time, dignity. A classic example would be bad food. Technically, there are no people who force you to eat death sponsoring garbage.

However, the battle is won on a subconscious level with the help of misleading marketing tactics pumped by the criminal media.

Classic bad foods, such as Coca-Cola and other sugary drinks, are considered amazing by most people not because of great content, but due to the professionally made commercials and never-ending marketing games meant to increase the sales of venom.

People and their stupid kids fall for this scheme all the time and will continue to do so forever.

We have reached a point where drinking rust remover loaded with tons of sugar is the norm. If you ask one of the fat gutted representatives of Cola like companies in your country, he will say that nobody is making you buy the stuff. He would be wrong. Altering people's perception through psychological manipulations may not be a direct order, but it's still a push towards the trap. The same applies to everything else the system tries to seduce you with. The drug dealing approach is always the go-to way.

The sure way to get on the system's drugs is to always follow the path laid out for you by the establishment. Where does that lead you? Once the system has taken everything you have to offer, you end up at one of the following places: a hospital, a mental institution, a coffin, a garbage bin or in the ocean.

***

Everywhere you look, you see the system's cake.

I know it looks delicious, but there's a catch.

You can't have it unless you exchange every bite for a piece of your true self until you turn into a big fat bitch without a soul.

I was that fat bitch when I was younger.

I was stupid enough to believe in the dream.

I was convinced that the stores and the media were my friends – a big mistake.

We have no friends.

The best way to avoid the traps is to always ask yourself the question:

♣ Who's going to pay the price? ♣

Yes, don't look at me like a sad puppy! That's the right question because there is always a price/bill to be paid.

Let's go back to the kitchen once again and look at that delicious cake.

It's sweet and nice, but baby – who's going to pay the price once you eat it? Your body. And who is going to get the money home? The system.

If you always ask yourself that question whenever the system comes with its army of 10/10 whores, you become a hard man to trick.

The value of everything is created through suffering and pain. That's the only way. Whenever that side of the story is hidden, you can be certain that you are going to take a hit no matter what. Stay away and keep the fruits of your suffering for yourself whenever possible.

Say no to drugs.

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