not today...

i was going to write something about my night last night... i did a tasting for bailey's irish cream... you know the stuff

but i can't think about that right now... all i can think about is the fact that every day for the past week and maybe even last week... the front page of the paper has had a section dedicated to the "drugs hell in paradise" focus- letting the island know just how bad the drug problem is down here...

it makes me sad to think that we are among the highest statistics of drug use per person in the world... to think that of all the drugs that come into the island, the police can only claim to confiscating 10% of it... meaning that when they confiscated 45 million dollars worth last year... you get my drift...

sad that there are only enough facilities on the island to house like... just under 100 people who are recovering when the user population is said to range into the thousands... sad that everyone turns a blind eye... everyone, even those people who don't agree with it, are profiting from it and that that makes it okay somehow...

children are getting hooked because people are selfish and want more- more money, more stuff, more of the american gang way of life...

we don't really have anything traditionally ours to relate too (o wait i forgot the bermuda shorts but those aren't even really ours anymore everybody jumped on that bandwagon)... our influences come from mostly western culture and it's fucking us up... children are dying. there have been at least five people who have died this year because of overdoses... prominent people who were known by many who o.d'd and it shocked everyone they knew.

but because so many, even our selfish, unprepared and completely ignorant to the plight of the people governement, are too bloody self absorbed and worried about the next car, the big dinner, the fancy suits, the shiney jewellery, their publich image... more than they are worried about their neighbour, friends and even their own children.

sometimes i fear there are no hopes for this island, that when i have kids i'm going to have to tell them my history through pictures and forlorn stories of how it used to be... how the island used to be beautiful, a tourist haven. people would speak to you when you walked down the street, not avert their eyes as you passed...

i wanted to raise them here but with the way things are going i may as well raise them on the moon.

i want to help, i want to help so bad but i don't know what to do. i'm not qualified to help at the clinics as a counsellour. we don't have enough homeless to sustain a soup kitchen or shelter. the sleep where they can and get help where they can. i want to do something. i want to get the message across but people don't want to listen unless it directly affects them and even then they think they are invincible.

i feel so helpless sometimes, like i'm sitting on the ship and all i can do is let it sink, can feel the hull shuddering beneath my feet, straining against the force of the current that threatens to crack it in half at any second.

the island is going down... down down down it's spiraling... i want to crawl into a hole a die before i have to watch it go completely under... it helps you to understand why people use... but it doesn't make me want to follow in their footsteps... i want to make it better for them

sorry that this was such a morbid post, well not really morbid but it's not upbeat or funny or anything. i can't get it off my mind...