Last night, before I settled down to study @ about 2am, I was down in the laneway - two guys came up and were asking from some "freshies", and I wasn't quite sure what they meant. After talking to them for a bit, by the fluorescent light of the laneway, I'd learnt that one of them (an aboriginal) was just out of jail, and really hating life... both of them re-iterating that life in jail was so much better, like a holiday?!
I asked if he'd be able to make do without a "freshie", and he told me he had just gone through the laneway bin and found a used one - at that point I realised it was a clean syringe he was after, and had just pulled out of the bin one that had been used.
We're not an injecting house or anything (well, in Vic they don't exist), so we aren't able to carry fresh syringes, but after that, I almost wished we did...
Chatted for a bit more, then went upstairs to study... just shaking my head @ the bizar-ness of my life...
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syringes should be melted down!!! and used to make bus stop shelterS!!
life is better in prison bloody everything is given at your feet! free food, free exercise, free shower, free water, free heat,free comfort, free training, free education! what more...!
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