But small amounts flow in and out of my hands.
Saturday had my neighbor stopping by with his bottle. Misery loves company I guess, so I had a few shots with him. He also had a big head start on me so far as the drinks were concerned. As usual the offer was made to loan me twenty bucks. That only happens when he's drunk.
What's crackhead to do?
I took his twenty and called a newcomer to my circle of smokers. I wanted to try out their source. You know, to see if their shit was any better than the shit I got from my regular Dude. As usual, it was the same shit in a different package. I shared what was gotten with my new "friend."
Dope's gone, new friend leaves and I sit there wondering, "What the fuck was that all about?"
Can I blame my vodka swigging neighbor for this turn of events. Certainly not, as he just wants a little company and knows of my bad habits. In his mind, he's trying to help. Help what, I'm not sure but his motives are not devious or underhanded.
Perhaps he just uses the occasional loan as a way of insuring my company in the future. Besides, he knows I always pay him back. I also feed him 2 or 3 nights a week. I'm doing my part to keep him alive, as he is often too drunk to fix anything of nutritional value for himself. A symbiotic relationship of sorts.
But my smoking crack is not his fault.
Perhaps it was my wonderful day at the park on Friday. That put me in a great mood. Made me feel free in a way. Maybe I was feeling too good. Certainly not invincible, but I was in a good place.
I do know that taking a hit is not going to make anything better, but looking for balance in it is fucked up.