Mar. 30th, 2016

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I'll tell you exactly what I had to tell the cops, the judges, the prospective employers, the human resource administrators, the review boards, and the folks knocking on my door to talk to me about Jesus first fucking thing in the morning. I am not I repeat not a pothead, a stoner, a wastoid or any of the other casual slurs you may thoughtlessly brand me as. No sir, no ma'am, I identify as a proud Narco American.

I am a lot of things. An asshole, a friend, a hard worker, a writer, a progressive and mostly a 21st century white male CUD (Cis Until Drunk). But deep down I just know in the core of my being what I truly am is a Narco American. One of but millions toiling hidden in the cracks and margins of this great nation.

We are not just your pizza makers, your delivery drivers, your menial-lenium labor market as seen on TV or Internet streamed. We are not just your faceless Midwest all Heroin strung out cause it's cheaper than Oxycontin. We are not just your strippers, prostitutes or urban homeless subsisting on whatever falls across an empty palm.

No, we are Silicon Valley, Wall Street, Hollywood and the Heartland. We are your IT, Creative, and Marketing Departments. We are your board members and construction workers, CEOs and clerks. We are those who fill your stages to make you laugh or cry or remember just what it means to be human again even if but for a few hours. We make the ballads you lose your virginity to as well as the songs that keep the gun out of your mouth. We are in the farms, the laboratories, the hospitals, the campuses, the law firms, the gas stations, the executive retreats, and if you're really lucky and play it cool maybe at your parties as well.

Yes, we walk among you hidden revealing our true selves rarely and at great peril to our jobs or freedom. For us there are no parades from which we are encouraged to boldly come out as the people that we truly are. Sure we have festivals or protest marches but only a fool or a martyr would dare to show up with anything but a quickly diminishing buzz. Yet just as some of our brother and sisters heroically battle for the liberation of their bodies so my kind must soon find the courage to wage a similar war for the liberation of our perceptions.

Until that day I must remain in an open closet about that which provides not only relief from the drudgery of reality but also gives me the inspiration to make it something better. Yes sir, yes ma'am, I am a Narco American and to quote Saint Reed - "Thank god that I just don't care."


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September 2016

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