[ibogaine] magic drug

Patrick K. Kroupa digital at mindvox.com
Fri Mar 8 21:03:37 EST 2002


On [Sat, Mar 09, 2002 at 01:24:29AM +0000], [Night Stalker] wrote:

| Give me a break a magic drug that cures heroin addiction. Yeah right. Would 
| all of you shut the fuck up. Kroupa you're a loudmouthed asshole send me 
| your address and I'll mail you heroin inject it and shut the fuck up 
| already. Just what everyone needed another drug cult as if the NA meetings 
| weren't bad enough.
| 
| I'm unsubscribing from the new issue notify list from HT as of right now. 
| Fuck all of you.

Thank you for your focused energy.  It has been added to my collection.
My psyche runs equally well on either flavor.  I do not want to let
anything as silly as facts get in the way of things, but I am unsure how
you derive "cures heroin addiction" from my statement, which is reproduced
below for your convenience: 

	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-

Ibogaine is NOT a "cure" for drug addiction. It will not fix everything
and somehow make it different. It does not work for everyone, and it can
take multiple doses of ibogaine for even a highly motivated individual to
break out of their cycle of drug dependence. 

	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-

That is my closing paragraph.  At any rate, Kali loves and blesses you my
child, may you walk the rest of your days in her benevolent shadow.

p.s., sure, send me some dope.  My address is enclosed in a private
letter.  Every little bit helps.  I'm kinda broke n stuff, and could use
some COMMODITIES to resell.

Patrick

p.s.,/2 (not to be confused with OS/2) I understand you are in pain and
suffering, enclosed is an Ode, a Homage, a Work of Great Art, which has
uplifted me when things were at their darkest...

	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-	-

(an Ode to SuperGreat (#1 Forever!))

how i miss greg - a poem, by "Sara"      

how i miss greg, let me count the ways...

the flitter of his uni-brow,
it's texture rich with unspoken angst & power
-how elegantly it framed his seductive eyes

those eyes, yes, eyes...
like puddles of slightly used motor oil  
deep in gaze, soft yet liquidy hard
-they stare, not unlike the wing-ed harpie      
with an amazement - in awe of his own infinite
skillz (echo - echo)

[only darkness now - silence]

what's that?  a torn and ragged red warm-up suit?
i hold it to my breast and shudder to think
how...

[pause - can i get a shout out?]

OH HOW! this polyester still has a scent to remind me
of his crossfade akshun, his rocking of the mic
-his numba one

[pause, a moment of reflection... then a breath]

if only I could have been his numba one baby for gravy!!!

[i bow, and walk away sullen; drowning in a sea of subdued applause]







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