It appeared on markets in west euro, at least in France and seem to be avaible in Netherlands, Belgium, Germany. It's black or dark brown small rocks and it is tested around 40% diacetylmorphine purity without considering other active alks.
Anyone now where it's from? I've eard Turkey and Iran but idk. Doesn't look like afghani or paki dope.
I can't cry when I've dropped or banged. Doesn't matter how sad and hopeless I feel. I've been unable to cry when I've seen loved ones die. Unable to cry after getting raped. Unable to cry at funerals. Unable to cry before atempting to quit life. But I feel relief when I'm able to. Like being in a real connection with my inner self. So I often wait to be in slight w/d to cry for a few hours. Pet my cat, smoke a cig, think about the people I've loved and lost and when I'm done I dose.
Do you folks do that to?
Scorings rigs at the pharmacy while they deliver me 56 count of 30mg MS.
Their some folks from a queer group I manage eyesiding me. I'm the sole admin and the group is 5-6K people in a large euro city.
Spring is their, sun is shining. I'm going to slam in the park and nod into nostaligia about when I lived with my ex and was a 22y old anarkid and spend my days smoking hash and getting blown.
I got a small golden bracelet I could sell. Might go for 400 or 500€. Enought to score quite a lot of brown here in west Europe.
I'm supposed to go back to uni in September. I can't imagine how much IQ I lost in the past 10y. How dumb is it being in the 1% range and feeling constantly miserable to the point of obliterating my brain with benzos and RCs?
I'm down to 10mg morphine maintenance after tapering but anhedonia, RLS, and suicidality is hitting hard.
I don't imagine going to uni with kids 12y younger than me after not having a regular job for 7y without railing brown or some oxy in the toilets to keep the pace.
They'r isn't even a word for trackmarks in my local language. I just call it « junk-slamming memorabilia »
Marx called religion the opium of the masses. I come from a migrant working class family with parents who did make it and get to middle class. Still a large part of my family have been into hard drugs and alcohol.
I'm a jobless 30yo marxist who's only real intrest is smoking brown.
My psychiatrist is back in business this month after a 6 month leave. I'm waiting for my handicaped maintenance renewal. I was supposed to go to a clinic for 6 month but she fucked that up right before her leave.
Every day is the fucking worst. Every day I ask myself it I should pop all my pills and send a mail to my mom telling her that she need to come get my cat and my corpse or if I'm strong enough to choose not to do that.
Every night I still feel week even though I made it through the day.
The only person who did get me died in my arms in my bed. I would give anything to go back to those times when we were IMing ket with oestradiol and giggle about our stupid jokes.