Opium Dreams

Today I'd like to talk about a subject of particular interest to me, charity and, more generally, gratitude.  Like me, you've all probably been raised to consider charity as both an act of kindness and pity. That people who did charitable work were, by definition, kind, but most importantly, powerful. We've all been raised to see people receiving charity as weak and pitiful. Weak because they need others, and pitiful because their state inspires pity that, in turn, incites others to give them.  This paradigm has several issues, most of which you can already detect from the previous paragraph. I am not writing this piece to analyze institutions nor to propose solutions. I will not discuss charity from political & financial spectrums and how charitable work is integrated into the tax system. I am simply writing this to share a couple of stories that made me think about the notions of "need" and "gratitude" and how we perceive them, and how that percept

The first time is always the hardest, you think of it, it's appalling, it's repulsive, it's inhumane, to say the least, and you leave it at that, but only for sometime of-course, because you're curious, and let me just say that curiosity is at its core very primordially humane, our curiosity defines us, in a way it is the very essence of '' human'', and for being curious you can never be blamed, never, period! But curiosity is a very dangerous toy to play with, once you lose control you lose it once and for all, and it is this very curiosity that I am so vividly defending that will take you down the deepest pit if not mastered, which brings us back to the first line: because you're curious, you approach, you have to know, WHAT IS THIS? it eats you up from the inside, and you start feeling it, playing with it a bit from a safe distance, and you come close little by little, and you touch it, it is new and exciting, you can not take your hand off

He had so much trust in his God at these moments that he felt his chest would explode, he felt the swelling and breathlessness. God took care of him at every turn it was almost too obvious, he could almost see him. at red lights at night clubs at brothels, he saw his God, always where he most needed. he would look at a woman's exquisite curves and strategically placed garments and say, God! he would open up her legs and before he could penetrate he'd feel his desire dissipated into thin air, miracle! he'd make bets with his God knowing full well that he'd lose, that his God would not abandon him even when he disobeys and even when he sins. it is a relation that can not be contained in words and eloquence, a link that can not be captured in songs or movies. the way he looks at the hidden part of the lane and talks to his God, and then a car comes. it is fucking magic. He took the shortest road to the bus stop, his eyes burning and his chest wheezing. in his mind w

We've been doing this shit for too damn long, you get tired, so you revitalize, then you get tired again, then one day you get excited, then you get tired again, but practice makes perfect right?, so your tolerance increases, but it's too damn long, almost infinite, sooner or later you get tired again, so you try to revitalize and go to your roots, you know discover who you are and why and all that nonsense, but you're empty, nothing is in there surprise surprise!!, nothing but fancy words and meaningless memories, you're still tired so you go to sleep, 8 hours, you wake up just a little bit rejuvenated, you start again, you see new faces, go new places, have different experiences, but it's still the same, that tire that just never goes away, that melancholy that drives your inclination towards sad movies and dark rooms, that horror that attacks violently when you're alone and defenceless, then you get tired of it all, so you go to sleep, 8 hours, this time le