I couldn’t sleep well last night after hearing my mom talk about her day. Lots of things have been going on in our village and while this is usually the case, yesterday’s story didn’t quite fit the mold of typical neighborly tales.
A day ago, the local drug enforcement agency (PDEA) conducted a raid on one of our neighbor’s houses. Apparently, he was in the business of drug-dealing and manufacturing. His home was a lab for what my parent’s call, “the poor man’s drug” a.k.a Shabu. Crystal Meth brings temporary euphoria to those who smoke or inject themselves with it but then, after the high, things get scary. People feel thrice as insecure about everything and slightly homicidal then later, possibly, suicidal. I can’t imagine ever wanting to put myself in that kind of stress.
I will deal with all sorts of demons life throws at me but please, let’s leave the drug abusers out of the list. This is one battle I hope never to fight.
And I really am a bit unnerved when I think of how close these people are to me in terms of proximity. The person was my neighbor. I might not have known him but he sure left a striking impression.
Let’s please be more vigilant and cautious. We can never truly know the truth about places or people.