Drugs Quotes

“Ecstasy that must look pretty from inside—to core not just an apple but the entire orchard, the family, even the dog. Leave the shells to the crows. A field of red lampshades in the dark Garden of Myiasis.

This is no cultivated haven. This is the earth riddled with a brother. The furrows are mountains. Waves of sand and we are ships wrecked. What’s left of a fleet of one hundred shadows shattered and bleached. A crop gone to sticks. The honeysuckle sags with bright sour powder. We have followed the flames, followed him here, where all the black birds in the world have fallen like a shotgun blast to the faded ground. The vines have hardened to worms baking in the desert heat. We are at the gate, shaking the gate, climbing the gate, clanging our cups against the gate.

This is no garden. This is my brother and I need a shovel to love him.”
― Natalie Díaz, When My Brother Was an Aztec

“All the commas in my life used to be drugs or cigarettes — get in the car have a cig, get out of the car have a cig, after dinner have a cig, before food have a cig, have a chat to you have a cig. And you can start doing that with drugs as well.”
― Matty Healy

“You have these lined you won't cross. But then you cross them. And suddenly you posses the very dangerous information that you can break the rule and the world won't instantly come to an end. You've taken a big, black, bold line and you've made it a little bit gray.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid

“She was off crack, she said. When I asked her why she thought she had stopped, she simply said, "I'm tired of living a bad life.”
― Joelle Sander, Before Their Time: Four Generations of Teenage Mothers

“He probably wouldn’t do any jail time at all, not with the perennial War on Drugs in full force. Too many dope smokers and pill poppers to lock up instead.”
― Cliff Jones Jr., Dreck

“A drunk [once] said to me, "Drugs and alcohol are not our problem, reality is our problem; drugs and alcohol are our solution to that problem." [...]

Aren't we all, in one way or another, trying to find a solution to the problem of reality? If I get this job, this girl, this guy, these shoes. If I pass this exam, eat this pizza, drink this booze, go on this holiday. [...] Isn't there always some kind of condition to contentment? Isn't it always placed in the future, wrapped up in some object, either physical or ideological?”
― Russell Brand, Revolution

“Criminalization and interdiction have filled prisons and corrupted governments in country after country. However, increasingly potent drugs that can be synthetized in any basement make controlling access increasingly impossible. Legalization seems like a good idea but causes more addiction. Our strongest defense is likely to be education, but scare stories make kids want to try drugs. Every child should learn that drugs take over the brain and turn some people into miserable zombies and that we have no way to tell who will get addicted the fastest. They should also learn that the high fades as addiction takes over.”
― Randolph M. Nesse, Good Reasons for Bad Feelings: Insights from the Frontier of Evolutionary Psychiatry

“Whatever it was, having the drugs readily available and prescribed to my name was enough to tempt me into abusing them.”
― Michael J Heil, Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose

“If He saw me at my very worst, when drugs, sex, and other fleeting pleasures ruled every portion of my heart, mind, and life, and still chose to die for me, He must still love me now. If He was patient with me when I was living solely for rebellion, He must also be willing to be patient with me now that my heart was softening and I was actually trying. I was still failing, but at least my heart wanted to honor Him now.”
― Michael J Heil, Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose

“When I was driving drunk, He sent the police to make sure I didn’t hurt anyone. When I was evading the police, selling drugs, and causing chaos everywhere I went, He corrected me when I needed it, let me off the hook when I needed it, and loved me through the whole process. His love wasn’t just some abstract idea or feeling; He was there with me in each of these moments.”
― Michael J Heil, Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose

“Each time I failed, it may have surprised me, but it didn’t surprise God, who sees and knows all things, even before they happen. That’s when it struck me. God knew I was going to stab Him in the back. God knew that if He saved my life, I was going to abuse these drugs. He knew that I was going to turn away from Him toward all the other things I loved more than Him. He knew I would relapse, yet He still chose to save my life.”
― Michael J Heil, Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose

“Fighting this stormtech addiction was like swimming in an endless, churning sea. You never truly beat it. You just found temporary ways not to drown.”
― Jeremy Szal, Stormblood

“One of the first things that Homo Sapiens did with his newly developed rationality and self-consciousness was to set them to work finding out ways to by-pass analytical thinking and to transcend or, in extreme cases, temporarily obliterate, the isolating awareness of the self.”
― Aldous Huxley

“All the natural narcotics, stimulants, relaxants and hallucinants known to the modern botanist and pharmacologist were discovered by primitive man and have been in use from time immemorial.”
― Aldous Huxley, Moksha: Writings on Psychedelics and the Visionary Experience

“There is an urge to self-transcendence and, with it, the victims of tension, becomes acute and agonizing. In every human culture certain procedures for achieving temporary self-transcendence, and thereby relieving tension, have been developed and systematically employed. These procedures may be classified under a few comprehensive headings. There are chemical methods, the musical and gymnastic methods, the methods that depend on the subjection of insulated individuals to the influence of the crowds, the various religious methods and, finally the methods whose purpose is mystical self-transcendence -the various yogas and spiritual exercises of Oriental and Western traditions.”
― Aldous Huxley, Moksha: Writings on Psychedelics and the Visionary Experience

“Alcohol is one of the oldest and certainly the most widely used of all consciousness-changing drugs. Unfortunately, it is a rather inefficient and, at the same time, a rather dangerous drug.”
― Aldous Huxley, Moksha: Writings on Psychedelics and the Visionary Experience

“All the naturally occurring sedatives, narcotics, euphorics, hallucinogens, and excitants were discovered thousands of years ago, before the dawn of civilization. This surely is one of the strangest facts in that long catalogue of improbabilities known as human history. It is evident that primitive man experimented with every root, twig, leaf, and flower, every seed, nut, berry and fungus in his environment. Pharmacology is older than agriculture. There is good reason to believe that even in paleolithic times, while he was still a hunter and a food-gatherer, man killed his animal and human enemies with poisoned arrows. By the late Stone Age, he was systematically poisoning himself.”
― Aldous Huxley, Moksha: Writings on Psychedelics and the Visionary Experience

“Sin is the fentanyl of the soul. There’s a whole lot of dead people who thought that they could control the dosage.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“I suppose my unwavering devotion and love for my girlfriends motivated me to delve deeper into the realm of psychopathy and uncover the truth of what I experienced and managed to survive. And remember. Speelwalking. I can see myself wandering around on Barcelona streets, aware of danger but still unaware how large their web was and is. Infinite. Growing. Like Space.

I feel compelled to share it with others.

Timothy. Cannot.

Timothy is dead. Age 16. In the Cagmayer house on the Prairie.

What can I do? I tried my best and even more than I could. Devoted. Hoping in her return home.
It seems that the three people I met in three consecutive years were all psychopaths from broken families, from psychopath parents. Perhaps nazi grandparents. Most likely. Fascist. Criminals. Juicy or not.
This is the 21 ST century. “United colors.” “Of Benetton.”
All the colors and all the “fasc-ion.”
The mafia of short and evil people wasn’t only international as I thought.
It is global. I only sensed it yet before.

I survived a pandemic of Evil Eyes in Spain, in Europe. So far. On this planet.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Before we had finished the third round of beers, little Johnny and I had been poisoned.

Someone must have put something in his beer and mine, but not in his wife's. Imagine that. I was texting and crying with my head down, and they were kissing in love, so we didn't pay attention to who could have reached our bottles on our table.

I don't remember how we got to Urgell while both of us were dying from poisoning. It was a couple of blocks away; uphill a few blocks and another few block left towards Plaza Espanya. I was blindly following the way my legs and muscle memory led me, and us, towards the store and Canale Vuo from Universitat.

I cannot recall a single memory frame from Nevermind to the Urgell Store, as if I had been poisoned so badly I was literally blind and unable to see. Visual blackout.

I remember the three of us,
holding onto each other
at every step of the way,
grabbing each other's arms,
squeezing a hand in pain.

We must have resembled Benicio del Toro and Johnny Depp attempting to enter Circus Circus in the movie, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, under the influence of ether. Or as Hunter S. Thompson and his lawyer must have appeared in real life.

Anything could have happened to us that night. His wife was as tiny and fragile as Sabrina; she was just a bit taller. Multiple times we almost fell on the ground as we stumbled through the streets, trying to find our balance as his wife tried to keep us both on our feet with limited success.

Johnny's wife was between us, trying to hold both of us up and lead us where my legs were taking us. I was unsure if we would live long enough to see the next day. “Realllllly.” – as Adam would say.

It was the first time I had ever met Johnny Maraudin and it was almost our last night in life.

We got closer to each other one night,
after less than three rounds of beers,
than we were with his brother Adam,
who’s only friend was Tomas, in need.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“- Can you keep secrets?
- Yesss.
- We are going to make one of the biggest coffeeshops in Barcelona with my boss, Adam.
- Realllllly?
- This Adam guy is kind of my friend and kind of my boss, but I don't trust him; he is a bad guy. “Bad to the bone.” His father is an even darker figure. I am pretty sure that both have killed before, hired to kill people.
- I am from Buenos Airessss.
- I understand honey but you don’t know this kind of people, these f…g desert roses.
- There are Jewish people in Argentina too.
- I am sure, baby, but these are not regular Jewish people, not regular Israeli people. These people are dark. Hocus-pocus. Criminal minds. Do you understand?
- I guessss.
- There are a lot of criminals in this town. They will try to take our club away, just like the Camorra is taking away other people's clubs. Just like that. Do you understand?
- Yessss.
- I know them; they are one of my clients. If there is anyone in the world who could make a deal with them, it would be me and Adam. He cannot cross me and I cannot cross him either. I would never do that. I am not sure about him though what is on his mind, I can tell there is something he is orchestrating I just don’t know what exactly, but he is as fishy as Sabrina. The problem is that only my ex-girlfriend knows about my signature on the non-profit organization, which is the base of the coffeeshop, the marijuana grow and the smoker club. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- We are talking about millions of Euros monthly cashflow. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- By telling you everything now, you are becoming my trusted; your life is in danger too if they manage to find a gap between us. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- I'm not sure what they're up to. They owe me already more money than anyone in this town would murder for. Do you understand?
- Yesssss.
- Now you know about it, too. Sabrina didn't care; she didn't think I would make it happen. She doesn’t know about the place. Only you know about it and us. But she will figure it out somehow; she will try to take your position, slipping between the criminals. Do you know how to play chess?
- Not really.
- OK then. Imagine this as a throne, these chairs you are sitting on top of. OK. No one can remove you from this throne being my girlfriend, no one can stand between us. No one can take the club away from us. They have no chance. Understand?
- Yesss.
- As long as you stick with me, she cannot do anything; no one can mess with us. Do you understand?
- Yesss.
- Everyone in the world would try to take your place, being my girlfriend, and they will try to push you out from this position, which only me I can give you, with Love. They will tell you lies about me and about themselves who’s club is it. Do you understand?
- Yes. But why?
- Because Rachel and Tom, the other two founding members of the club, Golan, I signed up with, are Adam's puppets. I don't trust any one of them. If they kill me, they never have to pay me what they owe me already, plus they can keep the 33% of the club which belongs to me. 100% Adam would keep. Do you understand now?
- Yessss.
- We will pull all the trash out and remodel the place without any permit, under the rug, in secret.
- I sssseeee. (Eye. See.)”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“She had always told me stories about how poor a country Argentina was, being the reason for her girlfriend, Caterina, to move to Spain, which she said was the 13th richest country on the planet. Perhaps Martina's perception of Spain itself was crooked or surrealistic. She didn't realize that the country might be the 13th richest country in the world, but Spain was seriously broke and the people were desperately impoverished since 2007, the economic crisis had never ended, yet Martina seemed oblivious to all that. In her eyes, Spain was a rich country compared to Argentina.
Martina perceived Europe and its various nationalities and countries in a surrealistic way, removed from reality; as if all Europeans were the same and equally trustworthy, just like non-Europeans in Spain, and she could not distinguish between people or groups of people coming from different places, with no reservations.
This sounds very liberal, but there was only selfish capitalist interest behind it all and sometimes it showed for a moment or two that money was the main reason for her being in Europe in the first place, under the guise of a cover-up not being so much of a secret from me time to time.
As if Spain were a playground for children or criminals, which wasn't too far from reality. But I noticed that she saw different false shadows under the same light casting shade of the same crap; she was confident in her beliefs, but at the same time seemingly questioning herself as to whether she was right or wrong, and if it mattered at all. Nonetheless, she was completely unaware of the dangers and trusted people too easily. She had no fear and appeared like a cool kid from the streets of even more dangerous places. Yet, considering her well-educated nature, and the fact that she could also be quite normal, she saw things differently than a European person, almost like a child from the favelas of Brazil, ready to kill for daily nutrition, making it an interesting paradox to observe her personality and her vibes changing like a kaleidoscope beneath the surface for those looking from the right angle.
Martina didn't realize that Italy was Romania vol. 2, or what that meant--how history lives on, how the gypsies who died with the Jews never received a country of their own. I was not acutely aware of the fact that Spain was Romania vol. 3. The prospect of warm weather and easy money had been attracting criminals from all corners of the planet. She seemed to be the typical Libra she actually was, quite consciously quite lost and always trying to find her own balance unsuccessfully as if she was dizzy, never managing to attain the perfect measure, making mistakes and constantly questioning her own results and the actions that led to them. She attempted to conceal her lack of confidence with at times an exaggerated display of confidence. She vacillated between being too shy and too cool, never seeming authentic. I attempted to impart Herder's philosophy to her, explaining how opposing things can settle into harmony, where the truth is likely to be found in moderation and synthesis, hoping she would find it easier to maintain her inner balance amidst all the bad people and bad vibes coming from all directions.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Did I bring Adam and Sabrina together or did the fact that I got a new girlfriend do that? I was asking the wrong questions. There were so many of them playing mind games that I had to try different angles to find answers. It seemed like Adam was manipulating Martina with an idea of Sabrina and the club. But how could Adam do that if Sabrina and Ruan already knew each other most likely, working for Adam? How could Adam paint two different pictures of Sabrina to Ruan and Martina? Mabye couldn't convince Ruan of any wrongdoing; perhaps he wanted to warn me or Martina, and his arm broke for certain reason. Or was Sabrina playing the same role that Adam painted about her to Martina? Was Adam paying Sabrina to play this game while also trying to sell registration apps to clubs downtown? It seemed like it was a cover up. What was the prize besides the club and the marijuana grow? Who wanted to kill me and why were all these people daring to mess with me? How did they form a group against me? Who or what made them a criminal group?
Who was their real leader? Who did they think was the leader, Adam? He was afraid of me. Then who, Sabrina? She wasn't afraid of me, but she wouldn't step over me in my life, my job, or my career unless she had an open field and open goal. Why did she do that? Why did Adam invite her to such strange games? What was the fun? What was the joke? What was the reason why these people thought they were bullying me and wouldn’t get slapped? Why was it my impression that everyone was laughing at me? I felt like Adam didn't have the courage, and his father was not their leader either. I felt like their leader was much less intelligent than Adam or Ferran. I felt like they were being manipulated by someone much less intelligent, or they were acting like that for some reason, or they didn't seem to be hiding how stupid of a leader they had, who wanted to kill me personally, as if the rest of them were just bystanders eating popcorn while I plotted to do the same with Martina once we thought they had taken away my club and the Camorra would take it away from them anyhow.
Did Nico say the word “Camorra” to try and scare me? Who told Nico that I knew about the Camorra and what they were up to? Adam, Nico and Martina were aware that the Camorra were one of my clients.

Who could have seen Roberto Saviano's book “Gomorrah” in Cantabria, Urgell, and Radas which I bought in the last days of 2011? All of them.

I do not know the exact number of particular books that have influenced these events thus far.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“I was wondering why Adam had called Sabrina “crazy bitch” in front of me and Martina? Why would he do that when he knew I would not like to hear it?
Did I bring Adam and Sabrina together or did the fact that I got a new girlfriend do that? I was asking the wrong questions. There were so many of them playing mind games that I had to try different angles to find answers. It seemed like Adam was manipulating Martina with an idea of Sabrina and the club. But how could Adam do that if Sabrina and Ruan already knew each other most likely, working for Adam? How could Adam paint two different pictures of Sabrina to Ruan and Martina? Maybe couldn't convince Ruan of any wrongdoing; perhaps he wanted to warn me or Martina, and his arm broke for certain reason. Or was Sabrina playing the same role that Adam painted about her to Martina? Was Adam paying Sabrina to play this game while also trying to sell registration apps to clubs downtown? It seemed like it was a cover up. What was the prize besides the club and the marijuana grow? Who wanted to kill me and why were all these people daring to mess with me? How did they form a group against me? Who or what made them a criminal group?
Who was their real leader? Who did they think was the leader, Adam? He was afraid of me. Then who, Sabrina? She wasn't afraid of me, but she wouldn't step over me in my life, my job, or my career unless she had an open field and open goal. Why did she do that? Why did Adam invite her to such strange games? What was the fun? What was the joke? What was the reason why these people thought they were bullying me and wouldn’t get slapped? Why was it my impression that everyone was laughing at me? I felt like Adam didn't have the courage, and his father was not their leader either. I felt like their leader was much less intelligent than Adam or Ferran. I felt like they were being manipulated by someone much less intelligent, or they were acting like that for some reason, or they didn't seem to be hiding how stupid of a leader they had, who wanted to kill me personally, as if the rest of them were just bystanders eating popcorn while I plotted to do the same with Martina once we thought they had taken away my club and the Camorra would take it away from them anyhow.
Did Nico say the word “Camorra” to try and scare me? Who told Nico that I knew about the Camorra and what they were up to? Adam, Nico and Martina were aware that the Camorra were one of my clients.

Who could have seen Roberto Saviano's book “Gomorrah” in Cantabria, Urgell, and Radas which I bought in the last days of 2011? All of them.

I do not know the exact number of particular books that have influenced these events thus far.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“I showed her the Mobb Deep song “Shook Ones Part II” in the first days or weeks when we got together. Now, all of a sudden, she was excited, showing me a video of some pool party where the crowd was puzzled when the DJ played a little childlike tune with very few notes and sounds. Until they recognized the sampled song being played with the original piano tune of Herbie Hancock underneath, called “Jessica”, she was acting like she was teaching me something or something I didn't know beforehand. She was acting like she was smarter than me, or as if I didn't know anything about music, hip hop, or rap.
It was very odd. Who could have shown her that track, that video, and Herbie Hancock? I wondered.
So, I played the next song myself - Bob Marley's “Forever Loving Jah”.
Then, she played Jonathan Richmann's “Something about Mary”.
So, I played the song “Jah is One” from Mosh Ben Ari and certain members of Shotei Hanevua to see her reaction to Israeli reggae music.
So she played Notorious BIG and the Junior Mafia’s song: “Get money.” She was singing the chorus shaking her boot.
Then I played Tupac Shakur's “Hit 'Em Up.”
She played Notorious BIG’s song “Juicy.”
So I played his song called “Somebody Gotta Die.”
She then played the Moldy Peaches, „We are not those kids, sitting on the couch”
So I played Mad Child's “Night Vision” to see if she knew it.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“I still don't know to this day how she managed to climb the 94 stairs; she was dying from an overdose. The gate at the bottom of the stairwell did not make a sound when she entered the building, being so ill and alone. It was odd. Where could she have been?
Almost as if she had been dropped off at my doorstep like a package silently by a (Polish) giant.
She was pale and could barely open the door with her keys. When she entered, she fell into my arms; she was drunk and high, her legs buckling so that she couldn't stand. I tried to figure out what she had taken and what she had drunk, but she could barely talk; her eyes were rolling back in her skull. She was crying with her head in the toilet bowl, unable to stop the cramps running through her insides and her entire body shaking.
- What did you drink?
- Two … beers.
- I am not your father. What did you take? Where have you been?
- Beers and tequila - she mumbled, saliva drooling out of her mouth and her head hanging down like she was dead already. Then I asked her what else she had taken. She still wouldn't answer, so I repeated.
- Answer me Martina, who gave it to you?! - I shouted. - Where have you been?!
But she didn't answer, and her condition was critical, so I had to rush her to the hospital in my arms as she was about to lose consciousness.
I had to grab her and take her to the closest hospital across Parallel, two blocks away. This was the first time I had taken her to the hospital since she'd split her chin by falling off my bicycle allegedly before, although it wasn't the last. Interestingly, whenever she got involved with a new group of criminals, she wound up in the hospital both times, and both times I took her there. She had no energy to lift her head out of the toilet bowl.
As soon as I entered the hospital with her, the staff and I had to put her in a wheelchair. They took her inside and 20 minutes later when I was sitting by her bed, she already felt better with an IV dripping slowly into her vein, but she was unable to move; she was lying in her hospital bed, barely able to open her eyes to look at me. She was between life and death, or between real life and just a dream. I remembered less than a year earlier she was so full of life and happy and healthy when I put her up on that set of chairs that night when we took off the 'for sale' sign. The doctors told me after she fell asleep that they wanted to rinse her stomach, but she didn't authorize that. I was not fully aware that she was on drugs time to time or all the time and with what kind of people she was associated with. She almost only showed up at home in September 2014 when she overdosed. I was in love and worried for her so much, so I filled out the forms while they treated her in the hospital. I prayed to God to save her, asking for Him to show her the Truth. All I had was a prayer—50/50 if it worked. And I remembered that two years before, I had prayed for the life of our kitten Sabrina was playing with, making friends. This time, however, I had to rush to the hospital, not the vet, with my 20-year-old girlfriend who would soon be 21 in October 2014. And I felt like Sabrina, trying to make friends again but by the wrong people was the reason why I, an atheist, was praying for a puppy or a kitten or a bunny's life this time again.
I didn't know that lies and secrets were eating away at her from deep inside once in a while as well, it wasn't just the drugs that were killing her insides like cancer. Just like her brother's intestines silently began to consume him and her, unbeknownst to them, but I could almost sense it like a dog if I could not see it, smell it inside them like X-ray. They were unaware of what my eyes had seen, as I watched their vibrations and faces silently change.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Her mother bought her a burgundy pair of VANS summer shoes in Italy, and they took a picture of her laughing happily while holding them in her hand in an exaggerated scene, as if they had been teasing him to take a picture of her for her boyfriend in a park somewhere in Italy.
Shortly after, she started wearing them in Barcelona and cut off the tiny VANS logo with a scissor. When I asked her why, she tried to avoid answering at first until she said something like she didn't like it, or that they looked better without the tiny black VANS logos. It was suspicious that someone must have told her the urban legend in Barcelona soon after her Italian vacation, that VANS stands for „Vans Are Nazi Shoes.” It became more and more obvious in Barcelona that my life was in danger, as an awful vibe surrounded us due to the construction.
It was mostly caused by rich tourists who I had never seen do much work in life, too high to take on a task as simple as changing a password on a bank account on an iPhone app – a crime organisation, quite international already and increasingly so, with a growing number of participants and secrets becoming more and more dangerous, I thought, and I wasn’t wrong, I just couldn’t see the whole picture yet as I was blindfolded. As if her nickname, Stupid Bunny which she had printed out at Ample Store with Adam, was a cute, nice thing, a reassurance after the day before she had been crying for some unknown reason and printing out the phrase, “You never loved me, you just broke my heart.” That couldn't have been further from the truth. She would fidget around and draw at home, and I didn't realise she was bored of being with me when she had so many other options in her mind because of what others had fed her, as if I was a monogamist who wouldn’t forgive her for cheating or making a mistake. Even if I had seen her, when she showed up at home she seemed in love with herself, watching herself in the mirror in her new tight, short shorts. It was weird. I had noticed something strange in Martina for a while now and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I thought it was only the drugs she was secretly doing behind my back, but I was far away from having all the answers.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Last night's harsh phone call seemed to be a distant memory as we spent the day in the snow with my new fake friends, going for one last turn on the mountain while I drank boiled wine at the bottom of the ski lift at the hutte.
I honestly told Anette in the ski lift during the day what Sabrina had told me on the phone the night before, but she remained silent and didn't seem surprised for some reason.

I didn't think Anette would conspire with Betty to test me or win me.
I didn’t think they would conspire with Sabrina but perhaps I didn’t know her well enough to assume what she was capable of when jealous, mad, sad, confused or in love.
Perhaps they did not.
Everything I don't know.
I try to write here all that I know and have managed to figure out, taking a long time.
I try to share what I have been through because I am sure that others will find it useful to learn from my mistakes, faults, sins, virtues, and so on. Perhaps only my luck, good or bad, I don't know.
I could not have figured out what happened if I had not written down exactly how things unfolded in order to be able to see through it all and comprehend what really happened since I bought that Roberto Saviano book and met Sabrina.

Perhaps the women had been conspiring for one reason or another; perhaps they had not. Nonetheless, it was odd.

„Water is wet, the sky is blue, women have secrets. Who gives a f..k?” – Joe Hallenbeck

Do all men have to be natural-born and supernatural detectives like Bruce Willis in all his movies, or in The Last Boy Scout?
I'm not sure how many coincidences can fit so strangely into reality by chance, or is it all manipulation? Is it all because of the story of Eve and the snake and the apple?”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“Once both male canines had collected enough smell samples from Sabrina's crotch/my dinner, we stopped laughing and managed to get inside the apartment.
It was a two-room apartment on the ground floor and it was quite dark inside, with the curtains closed and only one or two lamps turned on in the entire place. Two big cats, two big dogs and two Jewish guys were sitting in the living room. There were a variety of products scattered all over the place. The room was a mess, not necessarily caused by the pets. They told us that they also have two more large cats at home in Belgium.


Mario introduced us to Tom Titelany: the short, dark-haired guy who had opened the door and was the owner of the Dogue de Bordeaux.

The other guy, sitting in the dark, a bit taller and skinnier with brighter skin,
and brighter hair, and much brighter eyes, called Adam Maraudin,
was the owner of the two large cats and the Bull Terrier jumping around.

There was a huge serpent tattoo winding around Adam's shoulder,
and though his tank top only revealed part of the design,
it was clear that this was not an ordinary tattoo,
it seemed to me to be of Far-Eastern origin or Thai.

They then introduced us to Adam's girlfriend, the British Rachel Conarts, whom Adam called Shifra for some reason. She had ginger hair and was as tall as Adam, taller than Tom.


There was a big bag of scuba diving kit in the living room and, when I asked them about it, they told me that Shifra and Adam had first met in Thailand, where they had been scuba diving.
One of them was called Tom, the same as my name, and the other one was called Adam, coincidentally the same as my middle name. Coincidence? I don’t know.”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

“But I was stuck for a long time by myself at Abraham Lincoln's portrait, standing in the middle of the huge hall as people moved all around me with mostly children. I felt as if time had stopped as I watched Lincoln, facing him, while watching the woman’s back as she was looking out the window. I felt wronged, so much like Truman from the movie, standing there in the middle of the museum alone. I was wondering what would Abraham Lincoln do if he realized he was the slave in his own cotton fields, being robbed by evil thieves, nazis.
I had taken numerous photos of Martina from behind, as well as silhouettes of her shadow. I remember standing there, watching as she stood in front of the window; it was almost as if she was admiring the view of the mountains from our new home, as I did take such pictures of her, with a very similar composition to that of the female depicted in the iconic Lincoln portrait looking outwards from the window. I hadn't realized how many photographs I snapped of Martina with her back turned towards me while we travelled to picturesque places. Fernanda and I walked side-by-side in utter silence, admiring painting after painting of Dali's, without exchanging a single word. Meanwhile, Luis and Martina had got lost somewhere in the museum. When I finally found her, she was taking pictures outside of the Rainy Cadillac. We both felt something was amiss without having to say it, as Fernanda knew things I didn't and vice versa. We couldn't bring ourselves to discuss it though, not because we lacked any legal authority between me and Martina, but because neither Fernanda or myself had much parental authority over the young lady. It felt like when our marriages and divorces had dissolved, it was almost as if our parenting didn't matter anymore. It was as if I were unwittingly part of a secret screenplay, like Jim Carrey's character in The Truman Show, living in a fabricated reality made solely for him. I was beginning to feel a strange nauseous feeling, as if someone was trying to force something surreal down my throat, as if I were living something not of this world, making me want to vomit onto the painted canvas of the personalised image crafted just for me. I couldn't help but wonder if Fernanda felt the same way, if she was aware of the magnitude of what was happening, or if, just like me, she was completely oblivious, occasionally getting flashes of truth or reality for a moment or two. I took some amazing photographs of her in Port Lligat in Dali's yard in the port, and in Cap Creus, but I'd rather not even try to describe them—they were almost like Dali's paintings which make all sense now. As if all the pieces are coming together. She was walking by the water and I was walking a bit further up on the same beach on pebbles, parallel to each other as we walked away from Dali's house in the port. I looked towards her and there were two boats flipped over on the two sides of my view.

I told her: “Run, Bunny! Run!”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA