Monday, May 3, 2010

Random Observations #11

The local addicts are becoming increasing brazen. I have become accustomed to seeing kids smoking crack during the day in the city's squares, but recently the clientele of our crack-dealing neighbours who live in the marshlands behind the house (and who typically consume their poison in the privacy of the same) are now gathering in groups by the shores of Guarapiranga, where I take the boys cycling and to fly their kites.

The lake is, of course, popular with less dependant smokers. Teenagers gathering to smoke weed (with give-away guilty stares I long to capture in print) are commonplace and I tolerate them - provided that they do not come within sniffing distance of the children. I am equally protective when it comes to people spray-painting their garage doors. Call me reactionary, but I prefer not to have a smell trigger a memory (and a longing) in my wards. Not now. Not on my watch.

The addicts look so...stupefied. I am reminded of something I read by Jeremly Clarke:

"I think that in years to come we will know which generation people belong to by the kind of brain damage they have. The ecstasy generation won't be able to remember their own names, the coke generation will be depressed, and the ketamine generation will have slipped below octopus and the cockle in the IQ stakes." (The Spectator, 6 February 2010)

I see Alessandro, a local addict who I have become friends with. He is as thin as a promise, and I give him any food we may have left over from time to time. Always half naked, he even sells his clothes for crack. He is too high to notice me, but his friend gives a territorial nod, and I thumb a polite reply.

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