you huff and you puff

you huff and you puff

the children have little plastic bags that they carry with them filled with a sticky white substance. it took me about three seconds to realize that these bags were mind-numbers. inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. inflate, deflate, inflate, deflate. the little pocket-sized bags contain glue. it's easy, cheap, accessible. when you live on the street with no prospects, why not? i watched as the children's eyes glazed over with every puff. not all of the kids use it, but most of them do. i can see already that some of them have used it long enough that there is permanent damage. little do they know what they are doing is permanent. and if they know, do they care?

it's like any addiction, and addictions are easier when you have nothing to do and nowhere to go. and if for even two minutes it lets you forget that you will sleep in the street tonight, that you have no parents, no job, no food, you'll do it for those two minutes of freedom.

one of the 'kids' had taken it too far the night i met him. he is probably not a kid. i would guess he is easily twenty. his eyes were distant. he was 'flying', dancing, acting a fool. clearly the group was not impressed with his behavior. the other kids looked at him with disdain. he was acting inappropriate. the other children watched him closely when he was near me, especially Guram, my little guardian. if he spoke to me, they told him to leave me alone. at one point, i watched from the distance as the entire group was on one side, and he was on the other. there was some discussion, Nino was taking the lead. i suppose they were speaking about his behavior, but my Georgian skills are nil.