Abraxas (2016)
just when I thought I was out, they pull me right back in
Disclaimer: if parts of this story don’t make sense it’s because I had to redact it for “reasons” I can’t mention and it didn’t feel right adding context to a .docx file I randomly found on my computer, hope you understand. I know it’s cowardly but I got kids to feed etc.
Around the fall/winter of 2015, I decided that the best and only way to move up in the world, evolve my brand and provide legitimacy to my tortured artist gimmick, was to become a Xanax addict.
I was the poster boy of the trashy and nihilistic. After doing my due diligence and making sure I would receive the biggest bang for my buck when window shopping on the dark net. I allegedly ordered 500 of these pressed Xanax bars, straight from an illegal clandestine pharmacy in India, I allegedly procured it from this dark net market called Abraxas, but shortly after making my purchase, the entire website had completely gone down. This isn't exactly a rare phenomenon, sites dedicated to the distribution of illicit substances are susceptible to a multitude of problems, from technical issues like servers going down, to malicious cyber-attacks from rival merchants, and the most obvious which would be a takedown from law enforcement. Another common tactic employed on the dark net is the admin of the site just deciding to cease operations, shut down everything and run with the money. (this is called an exit scam).
But this situation was different, there was no pressure from law enforcement, so everyone just assumed that naturally the admin just cut and run, but due to the transparency of the bitcoin protocol, the blockchain allows you to see balances of anyone, who made transactions, to whom and what time and so on.
A dark net website makes its money from the commissions of each customer and or vendor, by taking a small percentage of each transaction, simply (and I use that term relatively lightly) providing a service like this can generate a lot of passive income from merely having customers use your site. This profit usually makes its way to a master wallet. Gone are the days of hiding cash inside of a mattress or dealing with vermin treating your earnings as viable sustenance. The master wallet holds all, so if Abraxas pulled a fast one their master wallet should show them cashing out right? Ready to liquidate all this fancy illicit internet money to live a relaxing life in the Bahamas?
Wrong, three years on there has been no wallet activity whatsoever, making this one of the weirdest occurrences to ever happen in the dark net circles. The admin and his fortune simply disappeared without a trace.
Disappointed, there was nothing I could do, I had no choice but to take the loss and move on. I had figured maybe not becoming the proud recipient of 500 Xanax bars was going to be a blessing in disguise, as the addiction was in full force and I was a slave to the substance. Around this time my Xanax dependence was becoming unable to manage, I was quickly spiralling towards rock bottom fast, I had lost communication with my friends, and my teachers and family were deeply concerned about my wellbeing, plus the responsibilities I once had from them had dwindled fast. A sedated, decadent bartard is not exactly someone you could trust, rely on or would even want to enjoy the company of, for any significant amount of time.
My health was growing increasingly worse over time, the lack of REM sleep meant I was plagued with enormous eye bags, my depression was ineffable, and I would self-harm to simply juxtapose the constant sedation I subjected myself to. My cognitive abilities were impacted greatly, a young man who prided himself on having a beefy vocabulary would resort to stuttering and stammering and conversing with the most primitive lexicon possible. My hygiene suffered terribly, one of my close friends said I turned up to the music studio smelling like literal faeces; frankly providing a new meaning to “dropping hot shit”. I knew I hit rock bottom and had to make a change asap, and decided to quit using altogether.
My friends staged an intervention, many were present and my friend who was studying outside of London got involved on FaceTime, the seeds of sobriety were being sewn. I prayed that maybe a higher power could save me from the impending withdrawal I was going to face…
Fast forward a few months later. I awoke from a knock on my door, it was the postman doing his daily rounds, and he handed me my mail. I received a few packages that day that were either mainly clothes, as I was really into hypebeast, streetwear fashion at the time. There was also another bizarre package involved, the size of a large letter, but when picking it up, it would rattle incessantly. I took it to my room opened it and lo and behold I found two huge bags of white Xanax bars, they looked similar to ones I had allegedly ordered on now-defunct dark net market Abraxas, white with three scores in the middle but instead of the iconic Xanax branding, these had the words ONAX inscribed on them, at first glance they appear to be decent Indian generics. I deduced that the vendor must have sent these bars just before the site had gone down, and through the intricate workings of the Indian postal service I had just happened to receive the package months later.
I was hit with a rollercoaster of emotions, I was crestfallen, and I had already capitulated, cementing the idea in my head that the site was gone and so were my money and drugs. I took the extreme absence of the package as a cue to quit. I wanted to leave this addiction once and for all, and just as I was making progress I was transported back to day one. I immediately explained to my closest friends the situation and brought the package to them for further inspection. Upon arriving at my friend's, I pulled two heaving bags of pharmaceutical evil out of the package, it was 500 bars of ONAX, what a catch. My friend looked at the package and me with inquisitive eyes, enigmatic as if he was observing something completely dissimilar to me. I was puzzled. He fondled the bags as if he possessed the muscle memory of a scale in his past life, or a paediatrician checking for the descended testes on a small child. He took one ONAX bar from the bag and weighed it, he placed it back in the bag and then proceeded to weigh the entire bag. He then proceeded to weigh the other bag. His reaction telegraphed something was up. I stood apprehensive. He would then proceed to break the news to me. “These bags do in fact hold 500 bars… each”.
Good lord, what a monumental fuck up. The plug had sent me 500 extra ONAX bars on top of my original purchase. Devoid of any appropriate social response, and being so irony poisoned from a lifetime of being reared on the internet. I retreated to my MacBook, and immediately opened YouTube, to then play that scene from The Godfather: Part III where Michael Corleone exclaims “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me right back in!” We laughed hysterically at the absurdity of this situation. It was almost as if the forces at work didn’t want me to shake this debilitating disease, no matter how hard I tried.
Considering the hand, I had been dealt. I attempted a myriad of solutions to try and appropriately handle this situation. With friends maintaining a grave level of watchfulness, I tried only storing them in a friend’s house to prevent me from dipping into them as if they were in my possession, but all of these attempts were futile, I was getting my share when backs were turned, there is no amount of vigilance or attentiveness strong enough when dealing with an addict, and eventually, despite my efforts to balance my dependencies, I was back where I started. Wasting away on sofas, popping white pills of sedation.