She didn’t sugar-coat it

By Rosalie Tirella

The woman at the City of Worcester Public Health Department felt bad, when I called to tell them about the used syringe in my backyard. And to tell them TAKE IT – SOME JUNKY’S TOOL – AWAY. (I didn’t see the used needle last night when Jett and I returned home from work. So I assume city workers with gloves and sharp boxes came by…)

She told me: The city’s health dept got phone calls a few days ago from people in my neighborhood. They too had stumbled upon dirty drug addict needles.

How unsettling. You are running what you believe to be your mundane, predictable little life and then this symbol of everything dirty and desperate and deadly and illegal pops into your fairly well modulated world, the world you try so hard to create for yourself, your pets, your kids. A reminder that YOU have no control over anything. The universe, your neighborhood – it’s all about entropy, life coming undone, breaking apart. You and your neighbors try so hard to keep it together. But it’s a farce. People lie. People cheat. People behead other people. People kill 18 year old black boys. People lose themselves in heroin. It’s a wonder we’ve created all these amazing civilizations, the anti-dote to entropy!

Maybe the deadly heroin that killed a bunch of people in my city has finally been used up, bought up…Now Worcester is back to the regular smack. The beat goes on…

The Worcester city worker told me this, too: The City of Worcester Health Department gets phone calls like mine every day from people all over Worcester. Discarded syringes are found EVERYWHERE in Worcester. EVERY DAY.

Who wants to buy, renovate and live in one of Worcester’s inner-city three deckers, if he or she has to contend with drug addicts and their “issues”? Who, after a hard day’s work, wants to contend with filthy syringes?

After I blogged about the syringe in my backyard yesterday I got an email from an ICT reader who said she knows how I feel. She wrote she was sick of the junkies behind her building defecating in her building’s back parking lot.

I’ll say!

What made the email especially sad is the person sounded resigned to living with drug addicts and them taking a shit in her parking lot.

Entropy.