Selected texts by Grace Dyas from

HEROIN
BY THEATRECLUB

 

 

 

 

All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before commencement of rehearsal to the Author c/o Oberon Books Ltd. No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained, and no alterations may be made in the title or the text of the play without the author’s prior written consent.

HEROIN was authored by Grace Dyas in collaboration with Barry O’Connor, Lauren Larkin, Gerard Kelly, Rachael Keogh, Graham Ryall and The Men’s Group at Rialto Community Drug Team.

The performance text is a combination of improvisation from the actors, written testimony from interviewees in Rialto and Dolphin’s Barn, Dublin 8, Rachel Keogh’s autobiography Dying to Survive (Gill & Macmillan, 2007) and authored texts by Grace Dyas. The interviews and the texts authored by Grace Dyas are the sole texts detailed here.

HEROIN was performed by Barry O’Connor, Lauren Larkin and Ryan O’Conor (first production, performances 1 – 3), Conor Madden (work-in-progress and first production, performances 4 – 9), Ger Kelly (work-in-progress, second through fifth productions), Dylan Brophy (aged 12) and Ross Kenny (aged 11).

Stage Designer

Doireann Coady

Lighting Designer

Eoin Winning

Costume Designer

Emma Fraser

Producer

Sarah Murphy

Sound Designer

Frank Sweeney

Researcher and Producer

Shane Byrne

Assistant Director

Dylan Haskins

Assistant Designer

Emma Fraser

Assistant Lighting Designer

Eoghan Carrick

Production Manager

Helen Collins

Stage Manager

Emma Fraser

Assitant Stage Manager

Niamh Denyer

Sound Operator

Gavin Hennessy

Stage Manager

Gemma Collins

Production Assistant

Shirley Somers

Dublin Fringe Festival, 8–17 September 2010, Smock Alley Theatre

axis, Ballymun, 24–26 March 2011

Dublin Theatre Festival (as part of ReViewed), 4–9 October 2011, Smock Alley Theatre

Noorderzon Performing Arts Festival, Groningen, The Netherlands 16-19 August 2012

Draíocht, Blanchardstown, 10 & 11 October 2012

Winner of Spirit of the Fringe Award 2010.

 

 

Author’s Note

The following is a selection of the written texts in the play HEROIN that was made collaboratively in 2010. The action of the play proper in our version of HEROIN moves from the 1960s to the present day while a living space is constructed on stage live. Because the performance is largely unscripted, that is, it follows a rigid rules structure that the actors improvise within – or what happens is set but how it happens is not – I have elected not to include stage directions. Because the performers do not play ‘characters’ but rather ‘personae’ or ‘versions of themselves’, I have omitted character names. I would invite anyone wishing to stage this piece to use these texts, along with their own rigorous research process, to create their own narrative using these texts as a framework. I would advise that anyone wishing to stage it should also read Rachel Keogh’s book Dying to Survive and seek her permission if they wish to include it. Ultimately, for a million metaphysical paradoxical reasons, it would be impossible for anyone to stage the version of HEROIN that I ‘wrote’. However, I invite you to use these texts to make your own. I would also refer readers to an essay that I wrote for Irish Theatre Magazine, as it provides the necessary context for how this work was produced collaboratively, which I think will be of interest to the reader… The essay can be found at: http://www.irishtheatremagazine.ie/Features/Current/This-is-about-everything-that-ever-happened

 

SECTION ONE. THE NINETEEN SIXTIES SECTION. THAT IS WHAT THIS SECTION IS CALLED, OKAY?

– This is a story about heroin.

– We’re moving now

We’re moving

Hope comes

Hope goes

Swings and roundabouts

Post boxes are being painted from red to green

We’re building boxes on boxes to cut the landscape

We’re seeing progress loom over our heads

We’re living in mansions

We’ve got our own doors

We’ve got our bathrooms

We have mansions

With balconies too high to see our children

Sean Lemass is helping us play catch up

We’re moving now

We’re going

Foley St. has fallen down

We’re up and out

We’re on

We’re gone

We’re getting televisions to watch troubles

We’re cleaning out our lungs

We’re coming home to roll spliffs

We’re getting paid

We’re contributing something

We’re staying here

We’re coughing and dying of consumption

We’re turned on

We’re rejecting our parents

We’re not concerned with material goods

We’re making our children lambs of god

We’re cleansing their souls with leather straps

We’re sending our daughters to breathe in steam

We’re drinking too much

We’re leaving them at it

 

SECTION TWO. THE NINETEEN SEVENTIES. THE SECTION THAT DETAILS THE EVENTS OF THE NINETEEN SEVENTIES.

– This is a story about Joey.

– Joey started drinking at eleven and smoking hash at fourteen. He came from a big family. They were the first in their block to get a television.

He thinks his dad might have stolen it, but he’s not sure. He says he did poorly in school due to behavioural problems and poor concentration. His mother called a priest to the house when he was caught stealing to pay for drink and clothes. For a short time he served as an altar boy.

When he was caught stealing again, he was sent away.

When he came home, he started taking painkillers; palphine, diphenol. He took heroin first in 1978, when it was beginning to creep in. He vomited for hours after his first smoke. People he hung around with offered him some, a well-known Dublin criminal family –

– Who?

– He would have tried anything at the time. He didn’t even know what it was, and didn’t get much out of it either, at first. He started injecting almost immediately. He knew he had a problem before he went to prison again.

– This is a story about me

My da drinks

My ma smokes

I don’t get on with them

Stay outside

My ma is a saint

My da is a cunt though

I’m never there

Close your eyes

Lean forward

Every muscle in your body

Can you feel it?

My ma has a new fella

Don’t like him much

Can you feel that?

My da is a cunt

He’s a fucking cunt

Can you feel that?

And I’ll never be like him

Haven’t seen me ma in weeks

My da props up the bar

Lean forward

Close your eyes

My ma is gone out with her friends

They did their best but we hadn’t a hope

My da lost his job

When all the factories closed down

Started drinking

Me ma is grand really

They really did do their best but we hadn’t really a hope

My ma is dead

She died this morning

She’s gone

And she’s never coming back

He’s just always fucking nagging me

And I just

It gets very

Ah for fuck’s sake

See you

See you

You can smile all you want

That’s all I’m saying

Fucking stand-up comedian

That’s all I’m saying

Fuck him

Fuck him from a fucking height

That’s fucking hilarious

Easy

Easy

Stay fucking easy

Alright

Okay

Alright

You’re gonna pay for that

Alright deadly

Cheers

Yeah grand

Are you actually serious?

I’m gonna bite your face off

I’ll rip your fucking head off

Go for it

You prick

Do you think I won’t?

I’ll rip your fucking head off

Keep it up now

Keep it up

Keep it the fuck up

Keep it up now

Go for it

I dare you

See what happens

– We’re changing now

We’re getting corrupt

We can’t remember who we’re voting for

We’re hearing about streets worth killing for

Somewhere we’ve never been

Poppies are growing

Millions of red poppies

Leaders are changing

Moving and starting to sell in a place we’ve never heard of

An oil crisis ripples and sends us somewhere else

We’re changing to the decimal

We’re swapping our skirts for trousers

We’re leaving or staying to do nothing

Our factories are closing down

We’re signing on

We’re up and out

Our mansions are falling down

Our lifts are broken

Our children are playing with broken glass

We’re being ignored

We’re second-class citizens

We’re having more children to get bigger rooms

Streets worth killing for cloud the agenda

So they tell us it’s not happening

Hope falls

Swings and roundabouts

There’s a war on

That means we can’t rob banks

There’s a crisis that means

We can’t get jobs

We forget what we can do

We have nothing

We feel like less

Some of us take it

Some of us don’t

Some of us can’t

Some of us won’t

Our mothers are crushing benzo’s against their teeth Our fathers are drinking Guinness and talking about the British

We’re living in ruins of mansions

We’ve got nowhere to go and nothing to do

We’re stealing pills from our mothers to calm our nerves

We’re climbing over our neighbours on the stairs

We’re fine though

Because none of this is happening

They’re telling us it’s not happening

 

SECTION THREE. OR SOMETHING. THE EIGHTIES. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS IN THE EIGHTIES.

– She’s after having a baby now

A little girl

I think it’s with her ma

I got pulled out of the bed by the ankle

Pushed out to the landing

Punched in the stomach

Fell down the stairs

When we got broken into we didn’t get a new window for a few weeks

And we got a letter yeah

A letter off the corpo

Saying that we were being fined

For breaking our tenancy agreement

Can you believe that?

I met a fella, I suppose that was how I got into it

More often than not,

It’s always a fella

This place is not on a map

It’s not on a map of Dublin

I can’t get anything on tick now and that’s a fucking problem

No labour till Wednesday

What the fuck

What the fuck

I guarantee you

No I guarantee it

If this was happening in Rathgar

They’d do something about it pretty quick

Walked up with a knife

Give me your bag love

Ran away

Scored

Every day the sickness gets worse

You start off being careful

But eventually you don’t care

It’s just like

You need that ya know

You need that

And if you can’t get it you’ll do fucking anything

I knocked at the door and a young wan answered

Told her that her da left something for me upstairs

Walked upstairs and looked around

Came back at the weekend

Took it all

During the 1980s anyone from the south inner city who had a video player got it robbed

It was tragic

Started going over once a week and bringing the boxes back on cargo ships

It was fucking easy

It felt like they weren’t even trying to stop us

Nobody touches you when you have the virus

And you know you feel very alone

I came back from the disco and kneeled down at the statue of the Virgin Mary

It started lashing raining

And I prayed till the morning

Little fuckers

Little fucking fucks

If it isn’t nailed down they have it away

Fuckers

You go in with a shopping bag

Take the whole arm of jumpers

Into the bag

You walk out

Once you don’t look like you’re on drugs nobody notices

We call the police but nobody comes

Taxis won’t pull in under the arch

My mother cried when I said I was moving in here

My da bought me a bottle of brown phi and locked me in my room for weeks

Nobody talks to you when you’re sick

They know you’re sick

You can’t even buy milk in shops

You only talk to other people who take drugs

And you make friends with people who take drugs

And that’s just it

Open your handbag and offer out the Valium

Sure we’re all brothers and sisters in Holy God’s family

I went to my doctor and he told me all he could do was tell me to stay off the gear

He said I should go to my priest

Hands go around your waist and it makes you breathe in Get your fucking hands off me

Close your eyes

Maggots and mould and rot

Feel the sick coming up and falling out my mouth

He never fucking stops

Smack in the jaw

Taste blood

Slam the door behind me

Put your hands over your ears and say lalalalala

Smack in the jaw

Taste blood

Slam the door behind me

– They even took our new curtains and my mother made them for us as a wedding present

Come on to the pub son

I’ll buy you a few pints

Stay off that fucking dirty stuff

Hands go around your waist and it makes you breathe in

Get your fucking hands off me

Close your eyes

Maggots and mould and rot

Feel the sick coming up and falling out my mouth

He never fucking stops

– I remember just thinking

How can I live here?

I came up the stairs and I just saw runners

His brand new Nike runners hanging there

In the air

I went and got me ma

We take their names at the entrance to the blocks. If they’ve no business here we ask them to move on.

We know each other. They’re our own. They’re one of us. And they’re laughing at the drug watch.

Are we doing the right thing here? We think we are. But are we doing the right thing here, really?

Can we talk about this here? Is it okay, to talk about this here, like this?

He wants help and he can’t get it

And God knows when he’ll ask again

I do leave the place crying

Things have got worse

They’re only going to get worse

They’re not getting any better

This could have been a good place

It could have been brilliant here

A great place to rear a family

And now

And now

– We’re unstable

Walls are falling

We’re reshuffling and stopping and starting

We’re under pressure

We’re making words for things we didn’t have words for before

We’re making rules about something new

People are refusing to eat

For streets we’ve never walked on

We’re in debt

We’re spending nothing

Our mansions are turning into ghettoes

It’s too hot in our towers

We’re serving time until we’re moved on

We’re wheeling our prams for hours

We’ve started to lie about where we’re from

We’re colder than we’ve ever been

We’re seeing faces change

We’re having our windows broken

We’re watching our tellies being stolen

We’re spreading new diseases

We’re waking up to spacemen

We’re holding up the shop van

We’re robbing chemists

We’re swallowing cough syrup

We’re being found in forests

We’re dancing in our casuals

We’re walking home at sunrise

And hiding our eyes

We’re finding veins

We’re scoring

We’re borrowing

We’re dyin’ sick

We’re freezing cold when we wake up

We puncture our skin to make ourselves warm

Swings and roundabouts

We’re coming together to say no to drugs

We’re shooting to kill

We’re taking names

We’re organizing

We’re meeting and talking

We’re marching on houses

We’re beating not treating

We’re moving their furniture out one by one

We’re talking to gun bearers

We’re kicking each other to death

Our names are in the newspapers

We’re moving the quiet ones out to the suburbs

We’re keeping the bad with the bad

We’re praying to Holy God to remove heroin from us

We’re looking at the sweat on Jesus’s brow

We’re doing ‘The Stations of the Cross’

We’re not being encouraged by getting free needles

We’re not interfering in God’s Holy Plan with contraception

We’re spreading diseases we know nothing about

We’re stealing to pay for our habits

We’re shooting to recover our debts

We’re suffocating in our boxes

We’re drinking whiskey for our regrets

It’s okay though

None of this is really happening

They tell us it’s not happening

 

SECTION FOUR, YEAH? THE NINETIES. THINGS HAVE BEEN GETTING WORSE FOR A VERY LONG TIME.

– The footpaths are painted green, white and orange.

The streetlamps are beginning to flicker.

You can feel the sun on your back.

There’s one less family at mass.

Corrugated iron windows. The grass has been burnt. Destruction. Don’t say too much. You don’t have to.

The space is as big as eleven acres, or as small as one. Looming over you. You’re standing across the road. It feels like the city has just stopped moving. It hasn’t. But that’s how it feels. You can hear humming. A red car passes you. You don’t see many of those nowadays.

Looking at all the windows makes your eyes squint. There’s all these holes in the walls and you wonder about them.

If you look past the railings that cage the whole thing in, you can see the dirty syringes in the muck where the grass used to grow. Or maybe you just saw that on television.

You walk inside and you can feel the weight of people inside. If you look up, it feels like everything might fall down.

There’s a Guard [policeman] standing here 24 hours a day.

He has to stand here all day.

And there’s a van at every block.

There are no other parts of the city now and this is a war zone.

– A war zone is better than a famine though.

– Yeah.

This is where everyone feels like they’re serving time, and the whole country comes to buy drugs.

And you can even buy a gun here, now that the troubles are over.

But you’re afraid to actually own anything, in case it gets robbed.

Where were you when Ireland lost in Italia ’90?

– That was the first time I saw me da cry.

– This is the part where everything gets terrifying.

Where all the colours are dark and nothing makes sense. Everybody is acting on impulse, or autopilot. This is the bit where we all stood up and ran. We left empty flats behind us and people moved in and started banging up.

This is the bit where the hero dies of AIDS, and the heroine gets raped.

Where the baby was born with an addiction, where the mattress was set on fire.

This is when her ribs were broken. Ireland lost in Italia ’90.

This was the moment when we got rich. And you might say, if you weren’t there, that this was when we split. Before we were all together, and some of us were poorer or less well off than others. But now this is the part where we’ve all succeeded, and everybody else has fucked it up for themselves.

This is the moment before the end of the war. The bit where the most people die. The bit where the most irrational choices are made. The camera pans out and all the casualties are lying in the street.

This is when we’ll feel like we can’t take it anymore. Where we’ll declare that we want to die. Where we’ll decide that the situation is inevitable, and that change is impossible.

Things have just been getting worse for a very long time.

We might come together for the very first time. We might organize effectively for change. We might use our fists. But when it comes to tell the story, we won’t be able to remember.

This is when we’ll knock it all down. Because we’re at our rock bottom. And now we need to fight.

This is what it feels like when pressure builds. When the emersion is left on for too long. When the pot boils over and something has to happen. This is the bit where the guy who was saying ‘What are you looking at?,’ actually beat up the guy who was looking at him.

– We’re moving now

We’re going

We’re putting ourselves on the agenda

God is saying they can’t grow poppies anymore

They’re flying over Columbia with poisons

We’re purring

We’re swimming

We’re going for gold

We’re spending money

We’re teaching children

We’re wearing tracksuits and getting our rings engraved

We’re coming together and doing things we saw in films

We’re getting guns and nicknames

We just don’t give a fuck

We’re killing Veronica Guerin

We’re paying off our mortgages

We’re getting jobs in Industrial Estates

We’re hearing the secrets from industrial schools

We’re moving

We’re kicking Josie Dwyer

We’re packing out our prisons

We’re taking down our net curtains

We’re going on holidays to Spain

We’re buying a new car

We’re complaining about insurance

We’re building

We’re moving

We’re blaring rap songs out our windows

We’re hopeful

Swings and roundabouts

We’re watching Saturday morning television

We’re wearing multi-coloured caps

We’re playing with our Pogs

We’re robbing cars and driving in the park

We’re walking into the bushes

We’re in an epidemic

We’re jumping off a tower block

We’re collapsing our veins

We’re injecting into our feet

We’re living in stairwells

We’re taking ecstacy with our Evian

We’re getting our pictures in the papers

We’re easing the sickness with methadone

We’re going to clinics twice a week

We’re breaking our balls to help people

We’re raising a profile

We’re understanding the situation

We’re on committees

We’re strategizing

We’re forward thinking

We’re building help in our communities

We’re making our marches bigger

We’re hearing that Brenda’s got a baby

We’re containing it off the beaten track

We’re hiding from tourists

We’re left to our own devices

We’re killing each other

I’m sorry

We can’t say it’s not happening anymore

 

SECTION FIVE. THE TWO THOUSANDS. YOU ARE NEVER GONNA UNDERSTAND.

– I’m not doing this tomorrow night.

– And you know, you feel very alone

– She can read that book all she likes but she’s never gonna understand

– I’m sorry

I am sorry

I don’t think I can do this anymore

I’m lost

I’m falling apart

I’m losing

Sorry

I’m sorry but

I don’t think I can do this anymore

I’m sorry

I am really fucking sorry

I just want it all to end

I don’t think I can stay quiet anymore

I don’t know what to say

I’m sorry

I am

It’s all my fault

Nobody forced me to do anything

It is all my fault

And I’m sorry

I’m sick

I’m really feeling sick now

I’ve lost it all

And I need help

I don’t want to do this anymore

I don’t want to do this anymore

I don’t want any of this anymore

Okay?

None of it

Nothing

I’m lost

I would like to be able to join in

I would like to calm down

Look at me

Please

Can you just look at me?

I feel like I never had anything to lose

I can’t do this anymore

I can’t even wake up

I’m finished

I don’t even know this

I can’t even notice

Can you please tell me what to do?

Can you please tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do?

I don’t know how this works

I wish I could see a video of my life

I wish someone had recorded it

I wish there was a record

I wish I was caught on CCTV

Help me

Please

Can someone just help me?

Please

Can you just look at me?

Can you just look at me?

Please?

I think that might help

Look at me

Look at me

Look at me

I’m sick

I’m really fucking dying sick now

Please

– I’m in my dress just waiting to sing, look lovely, etc.

This is what happened

We took drugs

We took any drugs we could get our hands on

Because we were scared of being normal

Of having to live with our heads

Because horrible things happened to us

Or because nothing ever happened to us

Because our fathers drank and battered us

Because our mothers never washed our uniforms

Because we had no socks

Because we couldn’t tell the time

Because we couldn’t tie our laces

And we felt nothing

And we didn’t know how

And we ran

And I was there and I saw it

This is what happened

I was there and I saw it

And I wrote my name on a wall

This is what happened

We took drugs

Because we wanted to take drugs

We wanted to feel different

This is what happened

I stole handbags and wallets

And I smashed windows with bricks

This is what happened

I took cocaine

And crack cocaine

And I mixed my methadone with heroin

And I lied to the relieving officer

And I ran

This is what happened, my uncle took me into a room and told me to undress

This is what happened, I slept under a bridge

This is what happened, my teacher humiliated me in front of the class

This is what happened, my brother was better than me

My daughter kept crying

I didn’t know what the fuck else to do

I couldn’t fill in the form

I couldn’t give directions

I spread the poison

And nobody mentioned it

This is what happened

We were told we were nothing

We had nothing

This is what happened

Our address came with a stigma

We never did well in school

Our parents were bad parents

I was there and I saw it

And I wrote my name on a wall

I was there

This is about everything that ever happened

Because we needed to talk about this

Because we couldn’t

Because we needed to be on the dark side of life

Because we believed in God

Because we left the empire

Because we saw our fathers peddle death to people we didn’t know

Because we never saw anything

Because we were bored

This is what happened

I was there and I saw it

I was there

I was there

Because we had no sense of pride in ourselves

Because our parents shouted over our heads while they cleaned our faces

Because we injected cigarettes

Because we mainlined McDonald’s

Because we rubbed vodka into our pores

Because we were disqualified in Italia ’90

Because Tony Gregory had the balance of power

Because we needed something to feel well

Because we ran

This is about everything that ever happened

One day you will wake up and you won’t want this anymore

You will see everything laid out in front of you

For the first time

You will really see what’s on offer

And you won’t want it

It’s the minute when the choice is there

It only lasts a minute though

One day you’re caught or you have no veins to inject into And you claim that this is a crisis, a desperate problem that you need help in overcoming

A photograph of thirteen people, everyone of them dead but you

And now you have to look at it and stop running

We learn to find hope in small things

In the mundanity of everyday life

We are afraid of reliving our past, that looking back might finish us off altogether

Nobody is forcing us to

Nobody can

We’re getting something to take the sickness away

We learnt to find hope in the small things

We’re sleeping in one of thirty detox beds

We are afraid of reliving our past

But we’ve collapsed all our veins

We can’t take one more turn on

So they gave us something to take the sickness away

We can’t bury what had happened under a ton of drugs

We can’t face thinking about what happened

We’re taking something so we won’t get sick

But we’re not getting better

We’re drug free, and we’ve never looked back

We’re starting to live in the world again

We’re trying to be adults, but we never learnt how to be children

We’ve stopped stealing, we’re legal, above board

And almost as sick as ever

Sick, but different

We’re telling our story

We’re sweating and our teeth are rotting

They gave us something so we wouldn’t get sick

But we are not getting better

We were bored

And the temptation was too strong

We couldn’t move forward

We couldn’t face it

So we ran again

We smoke heroin at the weekends

We are confronting it all head on

We feel all the pain and the guilt

We surrendered

We are were powerless

And we are still sick

We have switched to smoking crack

Our teeth are rotting and we can’t even smile

We can’t go on holidays without their permission

But we are were living

We are here

Still

Just

Just here

We are here

We are standing here

In the moment that is the aftermath and the beginning But we don’t know what yet

– We’re sticking around for longer

We’re fighting a war on terror

We’re shaking hands in Northern Ireland

We’re roaring for a while – we are

We’re mixing our heroin with cocaine

We’re getting weaker hits for bigger prices

We’re slitting skin for seventy quid

We’re all working in offices

We’re drinking Starbucks and wearing Gap

We’re getting LA tattooed on our necks

We’re moving now

We are

We’re moving now

We’re taking off our rings

We’re injecting into our groins at this stage

We’re taking a ten percent cut

We’re talking about leaving

We’re robbing and selling people to feed our habits

We’re really fucking dying sick

We’re paying off our sons’ debts

We’re using our guns like toys

We’re spreading out

It’s countrywide

We’re crying about not seeing our children

We’re trying to be better

We’re putting other people first

We’re watching people nodding off on YouTube

We’re taking shits in lane ways

We’re buying weed in shops

We’re drinking more than we ever have

We don’t know how to stop

We’re living on the streets

We’re getting our dole cut

We’re contracting Hepatitis C

We’re knocking it all down

We’re operating the bulldozers

We’re having wakes for buildings

We’re tasting dust in our mouths

We’re documenting our past

We’re putting our gardens at the front

We’re not living on top of each other

We’re shaking hands with politicians

We’re making murals about Hope

We’re missing a generation

We’re feeling this huge sense of loss

We’re trying to forget

We’re thinking it doesn’t affect us

We’re feeling this huge sense of loss

We’re talking about our memories

We’re watching it all crash down around us

We can’t believe it’s happening again

We’re worrying about what We’re leaving behind us

We’re strung out on methadone

We don’t know if we want to stop

We’ve accepted

We’ve separated

We’re being fragmented

And screaming about feeling fragmented

And this is what We’re up against

We feel this huge sense of loss

And we’ve lost

We have lost

We’re starting again

We’re starting again