Friday, December 9, 2011

My friend Don

This isn't the first time I have experienced this type of thing. I am also pretty certain it won't be the last time as well. Nonetheless, it is still a sad occasion that causes some pain.

In many respects Don was just like me to a degree. A throw away person and a runaway. Thrown away by those friends and loved ones who buy into the crap peddled by current thinking in the recovery industry.

We also have the ability to run away from anyone or anything at a moments notice. We can, with a bit of aid from Uncle Vlad or a hit from a rock, be elsewhere while sitting perfectly still.

We can shut off the noise that screams in our ears. The voices from the past or perhaps fears of the future. The pain that we are feeling today and the perceived and real disapproval of those who may be around us.

That disapproval is often magnified by our own insecurities.

Anyone with an ounce of sense and eyes in their head knew this was coming. Don hadn't left his apartment to come for coffee in over a month. He barely moved off the couch in his living room. The last time I was there he was wrapped in a blanket and complained of his back killing him.

But we did shoot the shit, drank some Vlad and had some Chinese food delivered.

I spoke to him on the phone this past Tuesday. I invited him for coffee but he begged off as he didn't think that coffee was going to agree with his digestive system. I told him I would call later and we could have wings for dinner. He begged off again, but would see how he felt.

He said he had the shits.

I know calls after that went to voicemail, but wasn't too concerned. That happened more often than not lately. I did knock on his window last night as well. Again no response and again no concern from me. It's not like the lack of response was all that unusual.

Don doesn't have to be concerned with any of this nonsense anymore.

My landlord called this afternoon to tell me he found him on the floor in front of a window. He said the coroner thinks he had passed a day or so ago. But my weird sense tells me it was yesterday morning around 4:30 A.M.

But that's another story.

I do owe him 40 bucks, but I'm still gonna' miss that goofy fuck.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Did you ever...

Want to be in an exclusive club?

The membership is very limited and the roster is comprised of one. At times there are two and rarely are there three in this organization. Once in a Blue Moon there may be four, but that is usually an occasion to be marked for remembrance in the future and recalled with either great joy or dread.

Not to offend anyone, but if you are put off it's entirely on you and I couldn't give a shit less.

I dread long phone conversations and most of my friends know that fact. Yet there are those who insist on hearing my voice for extended periods of time. I haven't clue why, as I sound more like Kermit the Frog than some silvery voiced radio announcer.

Then again there are those in love with the sound of their own voice.

I call people when I have something to say. Not just a cheery Happy-Gram or news of what new and and exciting in your or my life for that matter. To be honest, there isn't a hell of a lot going on in my life. Doing things of interest to me, I get drunk once in awhile, I get stoned occasionally as well. I do also hit some crack when the funds are available.

Don't feel bad, as that's exactly the way I think it should be.

I know I tend to try to be positive, joyful and act like every little thing is perfect. You know as well I that isn't necessarily a fact. But the truth is life is what it is and there is no amount of cheerful drivel that will change anything at all.

Note to self:
Other people feel the same way from time to time as well.

So I am working on respecting and honoring boundaries. Yours, yours and yes, yours as well.

But it seems when people push on my boundaries, I tend to put up a fence. When people hop that fence, I put up a higher fence. When there are those who are confident or stupid enough to try to scale those fences I put up a friggin' stone wall that is high and virtually impenetrable.

There are those who know exactly what I trying to say. For that reason they are the ones most often invited to club meetings. There are those who don't and probably never will understand. I don't know whether to be happy or sad for those ignorant fools. Your ignorance is not always bliss for others. It could actually be considered a pain in the ass.

So with all good intentions, I wish you a happy day filled with sunshine, green lights, peace on earth and butterflies floating around your own personal unicorn. I also pray that unicorn doesn't ram it's horn straight up your ass.

Insert Smiley Face right here!---> :-) <---

Friday, October 21, 2011

Yep, that's the question...

Should I become involved with a social movement that runs parallel in many ways with what I feel to be proper and correct. To get involved with "normal" people who, so far as I am aware are not burdened with the same problems that are an essential part of me.

The thing is that my involvement has, at least for the time being decreased my appetite for hitting a rock.

My reasons for getting involved have much more to do with just a healthy outlet for myself instead of my drug. But that not what I am trying to address at this moment.

My participation will certainly erode my ever decreasing anonymity.

My getting active in this particular activity may also be a source of discomfort for some of the participants. To put what they are doing in jeopardy because of my inconvenient bad habits wouldn't be right. I certainly don't want my involvement to create problems for those who are trying to do things to make the world, our world a better place for the 99%.

Yeah, that's right, I'm talking about Occupy Erie.

I certainly have the time, if not the physical stamina to help out in some small ways. I also don't have a lot of material resources to contribute, although the stuff that rattles between my ears seems to have fallen on interested ears.

All things considered, better there or here rather than in that chemical trap I set for myself. Another diversion to keep me occupied instead of daydreaming and fantasizing about a hit will feel like at a certain moment in time.

Will it be an permanent solution to my appetite for an occasional hit?

Probably not, but in the short term I'm going to roll with that. An occasional drink and a few tokes off of a joint will help to cushion things for a bit as well. Activity of any sort is an improvement.

So, until they get tired of my face I'll hang out a bit with the Occupy folks. They really don't seem to mind my presence. Until things regarding what and who I am become a problem I'll continue to do whatever is within my abilities. It's also an improvement over sitting inside doing little other than trolling for trouble on the interwebz.

The bottom line is though, it's something that is much more than just about me.

Maybe it's time to think about things beyond just me.

Far beyond just me.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

And then there were two

It just seems that things have fallen into a routine of sorts. No extraordinary events of any import have happened since the last time I was here. From the point of view of the big wide world not too extraordinary.

Yeah, there have been a few days that a pipe was hit. Yeah there have been a discussion with Uncle Vladimir, the rot gut cheap ass vodka that Don drinks. There were a few stupid texts sent out and there were the usual feelings of regret that goes along with that drunken behavior.

But despite those things, life has settled into a pattern of getting up somewhere between 6:00 and 7:00 A.M. This is because of the cats.

Yes, cats.

Moo, who took up residence here in June now has a sister to help her keep her girlish figure. Her name is Shui. Yeah, my cats, my names. Living in Erie and reading over the years about certain ethnic restaurants being found with cats ready to cook in their kitchens sparked this particular twist in me. So last Thursday night Don and I were sipping his clear liquid poison out in front of the building.

At some point in time another neighbor announced that her cat Cuddles had run away yet again. According to her this was at least the second time in a week this had happened. After listening to her tale and filling in some blanks I volunteered to take the cat into my care.

The fact is after listening to some of the details she provided, I knew she was throwing the cat away. There is no way that critter could have gotten out without some assistance. So with alcohol lubricated feelings and reasoning, Cuddles became Shui.

There is not going to be any creature named fucking Cuddles in this house.


What grinds me is the world we live in today is the fact that so much is disposable. Some things are understandable to a degree. But so often living things are disposed of with a sense of impunity as being worthless or not having enough value to keep.

I know from my own experience that it's not just cats that get thrown away.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

I'm getting restless.

The need to have an adventure is becoming overwhelming.

It's a case of wanderlust to a great degree. An urge to go somewhere beyond the neighborhood. The yearning to see things I haven't before or things I haven't seen in a great while. I want to get out of Dodge.

Not permanently, but to escape for a little bit.

To meet people who I know but never really met. To breath air a little different than the air in this hole. My apartment that is and not the town. But the urge to get out of town or go down a road never or barely traveled is nagging at me. The yearning to just pick up and explore new places or again visit places is stirring inside of me.

There are limitations.

Yes, I know there are physical challenges, but those are the least of it all. Those things can be overcome with just a bit of willpower. Those barriers are not insurmountable. If anything, sheer stubbornness will carry me through.

The real issue is one of other resources.

Just hopping into my car is not a possibility, as I no longer have access to one. Part of the costs of doing what I do best. A bus is a possibility but planning is required. Financially I might be able to accomplish some of this if it weren't for one small hindrance.

There's this monkey who keeps tapping me on the shoulder. Well, that's what people who don't have to carry one around might call the thing. The problem is that times it's a seething, screaming, venomous, puss oozing five hundred pound gorilla.

That gorilla almost always wins as well.

Still, I just want to get away for a little while. I just don't want to be sitting still while I do that. To be someplace other than this place, even for a day or so would be heaven. a healthy escape from this monkey house.

There are those who know exactly what I mean.

For those of you who don't, be grateful.

Monday, September 26, 2011

The last day.

Well the last day of another ride around the sun.

A few more spins than most I know and a few less than others in my life. Along the way some have finished their ride. There are others who have also just hopped aboard.

I hope I get to meet them before my ride is over.

Yeah. Another year older. Perhaps none the wiser but maybe just a tad more cautious. New things, new experiences and new people are still out there to be enjoyed. In some cases one might also say there are also things merely to be endured as well.

If I have anything, it's endurance.

Keeping my eyes open for those experiences is not quite as acute as in the past. But I'm still curious about a great many things. It's part of what or who makes up me. It's sort of like an adventure that has little twists and turns with each passing day. Sometimes the twists and turns come at a rapid fire pace and faster than I can absorb or process these events.

So, sometimes I just have to sit and try to figure how it all unravels.

Like when you go fishing and your reel backlashes when you make a cast. That's when life often gets very interesting as well. It's almost a guarantee that some dumb ass fish is going to take that bait while your trying to unravel the mess that's your line.

That certainly makes things more interesting, as in that Chinese curse interesting.

In many respects my daily life has been reduced to basic common denominators. Very few complications, very few responsibilities and not many demands. Bills and personal debts are paid, necessities are bought and enough cash is set aside for dire emergencies.

Well, small emergencies anyway.

Life has returned to "normal" in some respects around here. Don and his Uncle Vlad have become reacquainted. Library books are going to be due soon, so a trip to the library is on the horizon. Lunch at the Mission has been avoided for awhile, so I need to stop by and see what's good to eat.

Moo has been working hard at training me, although there have been a few mornings when her breakfast was a little later than she would prefer. We have an agreement on where she takes a dump as well. Keeping a few inches of water in the tub has aided in that effort. Now we're working on when it's her computer time.

So to celebrate another spin around the sun, I'm going celebrate quietly and contemplate some things. I'm also going make a big cast out into the pond.

I ain't gonna' put my thumb on the reel spool either.

It's how you catch fish.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

A little help from my friends.

As each day passes it seems I know less and less. I try to understand some things about me and others for a matter of fact, but things are no clearer to me than they were in the past.

I know part of the problem is my continual tinkering with my "wiring." It's part of the deal with us crack heads. Just when we get a grip on things, everything turns around. And while nothing is static or lasts forever, there should be some constants.

But nothing is guaranteed.

There are no sure bets.

There aren't any easy answers.

Nothing is cast in stone.

The thing that I've found is that if help is asked for, it's usually there in some form. People seem to give a shit, even if I don't. And being someone who is a survivor in many regards, there is something wrong with my way of thinking about myself.

Part of that admittedly faulty thinking is fear. Fear is a root of many of the wrong things that are part of me. At the same time I sit here saying I have nothing to fear.

Let's just say "Unreasonable Fears R Me!"

One thing is very clear to me. When asked for, help is usually there. Sometimes it comes from unexpected sources. While I'm not exactly certain why, it has always surprised me. Often it comes from people who are in similar situations as mine. The helpless helping the hopeless. In many ways it seems to work as well. In a way, it also seems to make perfect sense.

With that said, I do manage to get by with a little help from my friends.

Click the title, it says it all.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

How you doin'?

Who me?

Actually not too bad for the past few days. Getting outside more has been a help. Listening to the newly mostly sober Don has been enlightening to a degree as well. No calls from the Dude has enhanced that feel good feeling.

I say mostly sober Don, as he bought a bottle of wine a few nights ago. Ruinite Blackberry something or other. As he calls it, Ruinyournightie Blackberry wine. Looking out for his best interests I drank three fourths of that bottle.

Just doing my part, you know.

My good mood has been tinged with a bit of snarkiness.

Moo, the Wonder Cat has been challenging in that she believes my shower to be a littler box. I'm not sure if she's pissed off at me or confused. A friend suggested that I might be keeping her box too clean and she has lost the scent. More research into this is required. My chasing her around the house last night with a squirt gun probably didn't help the matter.

Not catching her in the act, she's might be wondering what getting her ass soaked was all about.

Safaris to the local convenience store, pharmacy and Dollar General have also provided opportunities to unleash a bit of pent up frustrations. Don and I discussed the possibility of panhandling the panhandlers.

Sort of like, "Hey, can you help a brother out?"
"Sorry, Bud, I can't but if you have any spare change it sure would be appreciated."

One fellow did piss me off. This guys routine is to sit there and ask almost everyone who passes for a smoke. He'll get a cigarette and immediately tuck it away. My guess is that he accumulates enough to carry him through for awhile and go elsewhere to smoke. So I sat a bench next to the one he was on and lit up a cigarette. Almost immediately he asks if I had another cigarette.

My quick response was, "No! Why don't you learn how to make them yourself, like I do." That may well have been better than my saying, "I don't smoke," with a cigarette in my hand.

Yes, I have said that on more than one occasion.

Anyways, for a moment I thought that clown was going to clock me. What happened instead was everyone around started laughing their asses off. It seems as though everyone who watched or hss been targeted by him at his game enjoyed that comeback. He looked away for an instant before hitting up the next guy walking by with a cigarette in their hand.

The shameless have no shame?

The funny thing is that since I have started making smokes myself, I'm a little touchier about folks who mooch them. I'm not sure what that is all about, but it's even gotten to the point where a neighbor asked for a cigarette a few nights ago. I gave her five made up smokes, a hand full of tubes , some loose tobacco and the little hand held machine to make them.

Then I said to her, "Give a man a fish and he eats for a day..."

Don't know how that went over, but hopefully she has developed a knack for shooting them out.

So, how am I doin'?

Today, I'm better than OK.

How YOU doin'?

Monday, September 12, 2011

An extraordinarily unextraordinary week

While some things of interest did indeed happen, most of the world wouldn't have noticed. From any other vantage point I probably wouldn't have noticed either. But I have a front row seat to some of the most mundane occurrences in this part of the world.

The non-drinking Don has been walking the soles off of of my feet for starters. Let's go here, let's go there. And we don't have to stop every 100 yards to take a break anymore. It's almost getting to the point where I might just buy him a bottle to slow down his perky ass.

Naw, that would be just plain wrong.


Passing on a couple of trips actually was a necessity on my part. Cramming into a strangers car, or tempting fate by getting stranded 10 miles from home would have done little to improve my sense of humor. While the chance of getting lost or stranded aren't particularly frightening, I would prefer it be done on my terms.

I did get Don to go with me to an opening of a gallery or something along that lines. A friend's paintings were hanging on the walls, and I wanted to see them in a proper light. Actually I have seen few of his paintings anyway, so this gave me an opportunity to see more of his work. This outing also provided the chance to be around people instead of being holed up.

I also made Don pay the admission/donation for the event.

Another extraordinary occurrence was Don made dinner. It should be noted that for over a year and a half he has been threatening to do so and he finally did just that. Well mostly, as he did cook the steaks and veggies. I cooked and smashed the potatoes. He actually set a place on the coffee table and served it as well.

Small wonders.

On another front, visits from the Dude have been lessened to a degree. No available cash and Don's sobriety have had me not calling him as often. Not entirely crack-less, but the amounts this month have been lower by any one's standard. While Don is owed a bit, it certainly isn't anything like in the past. I may even have a head start on a financially healthy October.

I hate looking that far into the future, but some goals are better than none at all.

So while the rest of the world just buzzed along at it merry pace, there was little attention paid to these unextraordinary events. Well, almost no attention was paid as in the big scheme of things, these had little effect on the rest of the world.

It's nice to know it wasn't entirely unnoticed though...

Monday, September 5, 2011

Internutz and real life....

I had my profile on Facebook deleted. I'm not entirely sure why, but suspect it was nothing more than being a "fake" profile. Some sort of way to eliminate cyber bullying is the official reason given for these types of deletions. Sadly the reasoning is lost on me as well as deletions to others for things that amount to freedom of speech or expression.

To set up a new profile more hoops had to be jumped through but it has kept me busy to a degree.

Of course the hoops only provide more ways to keep track of us who may have multiple profiles for family, friends and neighbors, as well as having an outlet for amusement purposes. Some may look at it as an alter ego that can do things that you can only do in cyber spaces.

Let your imagination run wild and you can do it online where no-tell motels are more numerous than Mickey D's.

The reason this is mentioned is that a good percentage of my time is spent online. Erie Crackered, formally Erie Cracker on FB is a way of venting at times what is real. As mentioned in previous posts, my mask is wearing thin, but there is still a certain amount of protection in that guise. Those who know me have been great in keeping

But I have some fun, try not to be too savage in my trollishness and friends have been made. The thing though, the fact is it is the internutz and isn't really real. It's just the people playing that are real. Sometimes that comes out humorously. Not to say that real facts and bits of lives are not shared. And that is how some have become friends beyond the names on the list.

It's also how a lot of hours get burned up that should be used for something more productive.

Like house cleaning.

Real life has been interesting lately as I have more company on a daily basis. Don, who happily is not drinking, has been an almost daily visitor for coffee. So much so that I'm thinking he needs a coffee pot as well. Not so he won't stop for coffee, but so I can go someplace in the morning for a change in scenery. It might also cut down on my coffee and creamer expenses.

Hey, have you checked the price of that stuff recently?

A side benefit is he is also getting me out of the house more often. A walk downtown for supplies. A stop by to talk with a few friends and to get some sunshine and fresh air. Winter will be soon enough, so for now the more often the better from my point of view. A way to keep my world broader than just a keyboard and a monitor.

I can make a pile of excuses to avoid those safaris, but more often or not I do get outside.

At the same time it has had an effect on my hitting the pipe. While not eliminated, my using has been curtailed in a fashion. Don's not drunk and throwing money at me. He actually is doing something I wish I could at times. He's using his cash to do things that make him happy. I'm less inclined to ask for money as well when he's sober.

So what is owed to him is considerably less than in the past. As in almost nothing.

Almost nothing.

This also lessens the chances of me taking a front from the Dude. My back up is not as sure as it was in the past. The benefits of another sobriety has had a ripple effect. I'm not complaining as it helps me do what at times I cannot do myself.

On a different note, Don and I went to Dollar General. He asked if I needed anything and I really didn't but as soon as I looked at anything to hard he was offering to purchase it for me. I relented and had him buy me a dictionary and a Diet Coke. I put it on the tab I owe him, but I'm certain he'll refuse to be repaid.

That does make me uncomfortable but...

I guess it makes him feel better and I'm all for that. Again, there's a ripple effect.

But what spoiled the trip was my needing to use a rest room. Dollar General doesn't allow customers to use theirs and frankly few places downtown allow "us" to use their facilities. When informed of their not having public restrooms I mischievously replied that I hoped I didn't end up pissing myself in the store.

But that's me. I just can't pass the chance to make a smart ass remark when it presents itself. Sometimes my outbursts aren't in good taste, whatever that is...

After all, you are reading this on the internutz, where anything can happen.

Monday, August 29, 2011

I really do hate...

Reformed smokers and reformed drinkers.

The thing is that they tend to think everyone else should be just like them. Their bright smiles as they spout their new found religion does get maddening at times. In a way, it all reminds me of someone trying sell Amway.

It really isn't soap they are trying to sell you.

With mixed feeling I am confronted with a sober Don. He hasn't had a drink in about 10 days. He tried to say almost a month, but I pulled the calendar out on him. I'll give him two weeks, based on when I was last aware that a bottle was bought.

I am happy in one sense. He is healthier looking and is getting out of his apartment on a daily basis. The down side sort of, is his dragging me out with him on the excursions. Yes, I know getting out is good for me, but I like to do shit on my terms.

The up side, and there are many, but in particular is Don has bought lunch for me on a couple of these trips. One place was a rather nice restaurant downtown in the old Boston Store. 'Under the Clock" is the kind of place I used to frequent in my old life. The other day going in there made me as nervous as a whore in church.

Perhaps I should say as nervous as me in church.

Sitting in there put an old perspective on my view of the world. It made me sad, mad and scared me as well. I got a bit of a taste of how some people view those on the street. A little bitter to say the least. It also brought back to mind some things lost. Not things so much, but...

There is an ulterior motive to Don's inviting along at times. He has money so he has been buying common sense things for his apartment. Because of his disabilities he has a hard time carrying these purchases. So I make myself useful and bite my tongue when I am tempted to say "Yes, Boss. No, Boss!"

I did make one mistake in this effort to cheer lead Don though... "If you ain't drinkin', I ain't crackin'!"

There is a benefit to me in that I can't borrow money from him for a few hits. Lack of a ready source of back up cash will make calling the Dude a little more less frequent. Calls offering fronts will also be easier to decline as well. Other resources are running low so....I have been hitting a bit more conservatively.

What Don doesn't know won't hurt him and I'm not going to clue him into what I'm doing.

Because we all know crackheads lie.

Mostly to ourselves.

Monday, August 22, 2011

But not all bad.

It's been a funny week...

Good things and bad things but, as I've come to discover, it's all about balance.
Honestly though, it could be much worse.

Left to my own devices, worse can be the case.


I did, indeed, take up The Dude on some small fronts.

Take a few of those, and they add up, but I have been more conservative in what I ask for, and the frequency. Phone rings, and the last reply was, "I need a break."

And I do need a break.

But everything will be covered, and inner determination has taken over to a degree.

I have noticed a change in my personality 48 to 96 hours after my last hit . Not a positive change either. Again, I believe there are some who understand that, and ignore my ignorance.

I get honors in ignorance and snarkiness on occasion.

Part of my snarkiness has been due to my neighbor, Don.

His health is truly crap, so bad that he can't even walk 100 yards without stopping to catch breath...

He's moving now, as it's been close to week since he's had a drink. He's become a bit more social.
I tend to isolate when the shit is in and working it's way out of my system.

So it's been three, four days in a row that he's been here for coffee.

As an apology for handing him a ration of shit about his neediness, I made him dinner tonight.
A jar of Alfredo sauce, a couple of cans of chicken and a chopped up hot pepper over noodles is comfort food to me.

He didn't appear to dislike it, either...

He has gotten me out, and I encourage him to do the same.

It's a double edged sword, as he is now wanting to stock up on some items other than Vladimir and, since he has those physical problems, I get invited to come along to help get the stuff back to his home. There are times, because of that accident I had, that moving is not much easier for me.

But I

So, last Friday, Saturday and Sunday, we went on these little safaris. For food, for smokes, for soda, and all the other incidentals he's stocking up on now.

While always an adventure, it can get tiring. I'm forced to wait while he takes a break.
Those stops try my patience, as I am not one for standing still.

I feel like a high school track coach.
"Come on Don, you can sit when you get to that sign..."

With all the activity, and Don's somewhat tenuous grasp on sobriety, my frustration with myself, and with others, has shone through. My own limitations, and my irritation at myself, have me taking it out on others from time to time.

Misplaced anger staves off the depression.

That goes right along with my sometimes not all that subconscious jones.

I do have outlets for that in a sense, through the insanity I engage in online, but I often forget that those people are real people as well.

Sometimes it's best to suspend reality in that somewhat healthier outlet. There are dangers there, but I've managed to avoid most of the traps; traps mostly set by myself.

I know full well that there are those amongst you who know exactly what I'm talking about.

In the midst of all this bad attitude, sunshine does fall.

It came again today through the mail.

People who know me from little more than the words we exchange see in me what I cannot see myself. Packages come that are packed with more than the items they contain, things that may never be able to be repaid or returned in kind. except the spirit in which they are given.

But I can, and I do pay forward.

Moo was treated to some toys and some treats.

Ron was given things I won't eat.

I truly think the sender knew exactly what they were doing...

The caring, and perhaps even more, that went into that box did something for me that mere things can't accomplish.

The gentle buzz provided didn't hurt either.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Getting uncomfortable

I have had problems with focus and purpose. Staying on track and simply just saying no has been difficult as well. Money borrowed and fronts given are causing increased unease in my situation. Trust from others is being tested and I don't like where I have put myself.


I haven't felt this much unease since I've been in Dallas. Life for me there was indeed insane. To a great measure the things that happened there are not taking place in Erie. The thing though is that I am slipping in many ways. Saying no is not part of my vocabulary.

Now to be certain, some things will not happen here. I am not connected in the same ways I was in Dallas. I don't have 8 different numbers to call when I want something. I don't have people unexpectedly knocking on my door or calling at 3 in the morning to come by to smoke.

That is a good thing for me and my relationship with my neighbors.

Dude calls and I tell him, "I'm out of cash for a bit." The response lately has been "I've got you." I don't need to hear that from him. I really don't want to get stretched out for funds. I don't want to owe him and I don't want to lean on others for cash to cover my habit.

But I certainly have done just that.

The results are that I have been depriving myself from things that are truly enjoyed. I am also, to a degree, playing with my sanity. I am stretching into a realm that is edging towards a disconnect with the rest of the world. I fear at times the result will be another visit to the rubber room. problem with that is they usually just tell me to go to a rehab and load me with drugs that are either ineffective or as damaging as the crap that comes off the street.

But the wiring in my brain has certainly been altered and I continue to tinker.

There are those I talk with about this to some degree. But in reality it is really up to me. No one else can say no for me. No one else can prevent the bizarre twists I put into my life. No one else can pick up the pieces of Humpty falls off the wall. And oddly enough, even Moo disappears when I take a hit.

Then I hear every little creak and she plays with the plastic grocery bags under a work table.

Well, she's having fun.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

I did take my own advice...

That is a rarity. Things I tell others way too often apply to myself. I just don't take my own advice. On the other hand, I'm not certain that all that much advice or suggestions I dole out to others is taken for that matter.

It's worth exactly what is charged for it...

But I did get out a bit more than I had in awhile. Stopping by the Mission for lunch was an adventure of sorts. There were a lot of new faces, but a few of the regulars were there as well. One lady was trying to organize a trip to Cedar Point. She had some deal on tickets and hopefully a few were able to take advantage of the trip.

One fellow was having an animated conversation with another buddy. The conversation seemed to continue when his friend picked up and went on his way. Sadly, there are more than a few people talking to themselves or anything that will listen in this town.

One of the days, I arrived a little late for lunch at the Mission . Partly my fault for not getting started early enough. Partly Don's fault, as he stopped by for coffee. I am not going to complain too much though. Getting Don to travel any distance, as in from his apartment to mine, is a victory of sorts.

Also the volunteers at the Mission made sure, even though I was late, that I had a plate of food.

They were serving sausage with onions and peppers, along with them little baby potatoes and broccoli. The donuts were gone by the time I arrived, but that was a good thing. I certainly don't need to restart my 3 donut a day habit again.

Neighbors were kind enough to take me to the Erie Blues and Jazz fest on Saturday night. We also crashed a neighborhood party along the route. It's not as bad as it sounds, but we did get a few beers and some freshly fried perch. If you've never had that, you don't know what you're missing.


So going out to the Mission, getting to the Blues Fest and also getting a few more books from the library was part of my activities for the week. Erie, being a tourist type town will have other events that I hope to attend, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it...

Was the week without crack?

Well, no.

That part is getting troublesome in that the Dude is fronting his product. I would rather pay for shit when I have the cash as credit will most certainly put me in a bad place. Buying drugs on credit is as about as stupid as it gets and I have enough stupid in my life without adding more of that element.

But the motherfucker calls now unsolicited. I tell him I'm short for a few days, or until next week. His usual reply lately has been, "I got ya." Sadly, saying no to those offers have not been part of my vocabulary. Working on not answering those calls might help the situation.

Well, no response is a response in these cases.

Thankfully, Don asked if I needed a few bucks. Who am I to say no? Anyway, fronts to the Dude are now behind me. While I am not much more comfortable owing Don, at least his terms are a bit better. I also don't have to worry about heavy handed collection techniques either if I am a day or so late on payment.

Life, anyways could have been much worse. There is also always room for improvement. By and large though, things are looking up. And "Better is better."

One certain way to make things better would be to clean this pig sty out...

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Out of focus and out of touch.

The object that I am finding to be out of focus and that I am out of touch with is reality.

It could well be the stuff I've been ingesting. But some of it has to to with other
"bad habits" that have been acquired. One of which, as mentioned before, is spending way too much time in front of this computer. Along with limiting my access to real people in a face to face sort of way.

I have just made myself too comfortable in here lately. I can't blame the weather, but for a bit of rain, and I have been out in knee deep snow for many reasons. Running for drugs was just one, but there were healthy reasons for getting out as well.

I used to go to the mission every day for lunch. It's probably been close to 6 months or more since I've eaten there. Not that it's a must for me for nourishment, as food hasn't been a problem around here for some time. Not for the three donuts a day I would grab from there either.

But it's to get out and around people.

To say Hi! to some folks who I haven't seen in a bit. To hear Babuska Lady holler at me that I'm a Prince! To talk about what's happening with people who cared about what was happening with me and I about their situation. To hear about who got picked up by the cops last night or to see folks who just got out of the slammer or ankle bracelets just removed.

Trips to the park have been fewer and I really like being there.

I did go to the library yesterday. A book taken out was pass due. That cost me $.90 in fines. That's not a good thing, and what is worse, the book wasn't finished. That was after renewing the book for a total of 6 weeks.

Yep, the renewal was done online.

There was my monthly trip to WallyWorld. The usual cruise around the store provides a bit of comic relief. Those pictures posted about the place could come from the one I go to regularly. I also excused myself to a couple of women who had their fat asses parked right in front of the tomatoes.

Something along the lines of, "I know whatever it is your talking about is very important, but could you do it over there?" Clearing my throat and coughing didn't seem to do the trick. I thought the minute I patiently waited until actually offering up that smartass remark was sufficient enough time.

On another note it also should be noted that, much to my relief, everyone who was owed was paid off. My checking account isn't in the negative range yet either. I was retaught a lesson a month ago, so that is a problem that hopefully won't take place for awhile.

Visits to Don's have been fewer as well. I did stop by yesterday and paid the price. Essentially another day semi-comatose was the result. Not a great way to spend a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Added to that was my usual dance with the rock and a need to knock myself out further. If anything to keep from posting or texting while too fucked up.

But I know I'm not alone in this internetz bullshit either. High, straight, sober or not it's always starting to look the same. Yeah, I see some of you every time I go online. We really gotta' get outside and smell the petunias a bit more often because the pretty pictures of flowers and other things posted on Facebook just aren't real.

Ya' think?

Friday, July 22, 2011

How hot is it?

Actually it's been hotter than Satan's taint.

I don't know where I found that line, but I love it, and have been using it where ever possible. It has been oppressively hot in this part of the world as well. Certainly it has had an effect on many peoples disposition. It certainly has had an effect on mine.

Despite the urge to do nothing and indeed there was been a great deal of that going on in my life, going out has been beneficial as well. A trip to the library was a breath of cool air anyway. Seeing people and interacting with them to some degree, as always brightens my day.

I mentioned this little fact elsewhere and someone reminded me a small detail that needed to be mentioned. The library is a gathering place of sorts. People I recognize from the mission and others that are obviously homeless or other wise disadvantaged hang out at the library. It's cool during hot summer days. It's also a warming station of sorts in the winter.

When you stay at the Mission, you are kicked out onto the streets at 7:30 A.M. until around 5:30 in the evening. I am pretty certain other shelters operate the same way. So to stay off the streets, especially when the weather is extreme, many go to the library. Not necessarily to read or use the computers but to just get off the street.

Sometimes they are there to get a little sleep in a safe place. No one bothers with them. People, like the library staff, seem to know that some folks have to stay awake when it's dark. If you're shocked by this, maybe that's a good thing. Some of these people are miles and years away from the white picket fences that may have been parts of their lives.

Then again, some of these people haven't a clue as to what that white picket fence bullshit means to many of us.

Now, there is a little dirty secret that not many people are aware of until recently. The Mission along with a few other shelters has a bit of a problem with bed bugs. Well not just the Mission or the other homeless shelters. For almost a year an exterminators truck was parked outside of the Methodist Towers. It's primarily housing for the elderly and people with special needs.

For a period of time I thought one of the exterminators employees had moved into that building.

Bed bugs are traveling bugs. They have circled the globe on the backs of us. Well not really on our backs, but in the seams of our clothing, the creases in our luggage or the bottom of a duffel bag. Then they jump off of our clothes and relocate.

The places they relocate to is quite amazing to even me. It has been recently published that the Erie County Library has a bed bug problem. With that in mind, I avoid the nice cushy chairs.

I have enough going on in my life right now and don't need an insect problem to add to my distractions. But going to the library, picky about where I sit and wiping the chair down is part of the deal. Even the hard wooden chairs in the computer lab might be at risk. I do take precautions, and wipe the chairs down.

I'm not the only one...

I do laugh when some nice, proper, middle class suburban type flops down in one of the nice cushy comfie chairs. Especially the ones who sneer at the folks peacefully sleeping. I'm sure the stories they'll tell, like when their kids came home with head lice, will circulate when the exterminators van pulls up to their house.

Then again, maybe they did bring them back from Jamaica.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

I don't do that drug, but...

I should qualify that by saying I don't actively pursue or consume heroin.

Not not to say that I have never done it. I have by snorting it and yes, have injected that stuff as well. I know the risks and certainly knew what the risks were at the times I was experimenting. It isn't a high I dislike. One might say it is a buzz I really enjoyed way too much.

That was the thing though, as I had enough going on with the pipe as my best friend. My life and outlooks were screwed up enough without adding heroin to my plate. I also had an aversion to poking holes in my body. Not the same needle phobia I had fostered as a child, but that fear has served me well in many respects.

Added to that is all the hassle of finding a good vein. That's too much work for me and I now consider that part of my preservation plan. Survival through sheer laziness.

But I recently heard that a child of an old acquaintance died from using herion. I have no idea how it was ingested, although most times this sort of thing happens if from IV use. Appararently the dope was tainted with some sort of poison. I also don't really know many details beyond that or how involved this kid was in their habit.

There is a lot of crap in the crack that comes into this area. I do recook a great deal of the product that I smoke. It's too soft, or the color is off or the taste is off. You can sort of tell when the shit isn't quite right.

So, like junkies, at times it is a crap shoot when I inhale that crap.

Heroin is a whole different game though. I really don't know of anyway to check the quality of that kind of drug. In the old days, if someone died of an overdose, everyone wanted to know who sas the seller. That was so the other junkies could buy some of it for themselves.

A bit of marketing wrapped in black humor.

My experiences first hand with what can go wrong when, in particular shooting heroin is certainly limited. Junkies for some strange reason are a bit more vengeful. My stints in rehabs had increased my curiosity about using it, Often though, listening to those war stories many were often accompanied by tragedy as well.

Hot shots, as in cooking the dope in acid or loading up a ten bags in a fix were part and parcel of some of these tales. Some of the reasons given were from how snitches and narcs were dealt with to people whose tollerence had gotten to the point that they needed to load a shot that way.

Anyways, someone mentioned the passing of an old acquaintance's child from having used some tainted heroin. While all the details were not available enough was known to lead to me think about what they are putting in that shit for cut or who did this kid piss off.

The games people engage in around illegal drugs are often not fun.

So, while I don't owe any slingers money at the moment, it did get close. Don has been on his own little run to destruction and not really on top of things. Generally that means he'll slide a few bucks my way. He hates the thought of being the only one he knows who is it ripped in some fashion. He also uses the fact that he is willing to lend me money to entice me do some things he no longer is really capable of doing. Like walking to the store for a pack of smokes.

I'll be damned if I'll go to the liquor store for him. Besides he already has his man servant for that chore.

As I reread through this my mind is just shutting down from the stupidity and pain that comes from that buzz and what we go through. Our pain and their pain. And the pain it seems we all are trying to run away from.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Moo and other people

Well, Moo is starting to be people to me.

With that said, she is obviously in heat. The constant meowing and yowling is some sort of way to communicate her need. A need that she isn't even fully aware of I suspect. But constant attention, weird posturing and strange looks are the order of the day. Along with that is her talking in tones varying from pleading to demanding to questioning to just plain " Hi!"have been part of the scenery around here for the past few days.

A comment in a previous post suggested that having her fixed would make both of us happy. I cannot disagree with that fact at all.

Other things have been happening though that have given me reason to pause and think, "What the hell are you thinking?" One biggie, after breaking Rule #1 a couple of weeks ago, is accepting fronts from the Dude. In other words I have now broken Rule #1 and Rule #2 with little regard for the consequences.

That is not a good place to be. It will indeed put me and my comfort and the roof over my head in peril quicker than any other mistake or mishap I can invent or stumble into. This all is part and parcel of trying to exist in this crackhead life. And at times, it's a motherfucker.

So while I have been given a promise of sorts from the person who helped me break Rule #1, that isn't going to go far in keeping me afloat if push comes to shove. Added to that my safety net person has their own life issues they are trying to deal with. My dependence on their aid to keep funds at arms length is being sorely tested. Too many calls for cash and other forms of help have made this relationship strained.

Not that I'm borrowing cash from them. Not them anyways, but between the money lost, money borrowed and fronts from the Dude, this and next month are going to be interesting to say the least. Interesting in that Chinese curse sort of interesting.

Added to that is the fact that my available cash for the month is now gone, gone, gone. The plus side is that I have enough food and other necessities for Moo and myself, along with having enough smokes, or supplies to make smokes to carry me through.

Because, a crackhead without crack and cigarettes is not a pretty picture.

One other thing. The comments received here are much appreciated. I have made a decision though to avoid replying or indeed commenting myself. Part of the reason is I don't want to debate or indeed detract from those comments offered. I can babble on all I want to in the space up above, but need to let the words of others soak in a bit.

Who knows, maybe something will stick.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

And a cat named Moo.

Actually the cat's full name is Moo Goo Gai Pan.



After a long history in my home town of cats being found ready to be cooked in some ethnic restaurants, I thought he name rather fitting. As in, if you don't keep mice away, you may just be a meal.

Just kidding.


The first night was a bit trying. She is a 10 month old kitty who is used to being with other cats. Three others to be exact, but the family I acquired her from found the burden of keeping that many felines a bit more of a burden for them than they were prepared to undertake. Moo, which is the name I gave her was left to this generous family when her original owner passed away.

And had she been taken to a shelter, who knows how long her life span would have been. Not a happy thought. They have more cats to deal with than they have willing adopters or funds to keep them for any length of time.

But her entire first night was spent meowing and howling. Perhaps for her buddies she was separated from or maybe the changed environment spooked her. I slept little and was frustrated to no end. Added to that, I thought the poor thing was going to run away at the first opportunity that presented itself.

With all the attention or perhaps the competition for attention she endured, it took one night of constant crying and hiding away the following day for her to come around. She had been hiding under my bed and no amount of coaxing and teasing with a toy would get her out of her safe spot.

Imagine my surprise when my neighbor came over, looked under the bed and Moo came running out and jumped into his hands. Actually I was pissed off. I later realized, as he has a cat of his own, that it probably was the scent of his critter that shook her loose. She did come from a 4 cat family after all.

To add to my discomfort was the fact that she strutted right into my neighbors apartment and cozied right up to their cat. Thankfully no fur flew, but I thought it funny that she ate his food and took a crap in his litter box. I commented that she probably left a toothbrush behind as well.

So after getting her back home and enduring a bit of her meowing at the door to go visit again, she does seem to have settled in. She is eating well, uses her own litter box and is learning places to hang out when she isn't crying for attention.

During the time it has taken me to write this entry, she has jumped onto my lap 3 different times to be rubbed and scratched. It is still obvious that there is something missing, as she still is meowing at my for something, but beyond food and the attention I have given here so far, I clueless as to what that want might be.

In time we'll both figure this arrangement out.

Now to avoid rolling over onto her in the middle of the night. Yeah, last night she crawled into bed with me. I never knew it until I flopped over in my sleep and was awoken by her howl.

Still a damned sight better than being woken up by a crack hustler trying to work me for something I don't have or bringing something or someone into my house I don't want.

For the moment anyways.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

How can you tell when a Crackhead is lying?

That's simple. Their lips are moving.

And sadly, I did not follow my own #1 rule. Never trust a crack smoker, a dealer or anyone who has anything to do with that shit. Funny thing is that for some reason beyond me, I did exactly that and trust a smoker. Trusted them with my ATM card and PIN number.

How fucking dumb can one get.

Oh, wait. When you want another hit, common sense flies right through the window. Just plain fuckin' flits away without another thought. That's the way that shit works. Gimme' a hit, gimme' a hit, gimme' a hit.

And what did I get.?

Robbed for $260.00 and a bank account seriously overdrawn. A bad day that wasn't anything particularly new to me, but part of me thought I had a lot of that foolishness behind me.

How dumb can one get. When you're hitting that pipe, you never know what the hell is gojng to happen. The results, even in the best of consequences are not all that rosy.

The thing is that in this particular incident, shit will be flowing both ways. It's funny, but at one time I would have felt bad about this. Not anymore, not this time and not this one.

Fuck 'em.

People suck. And back to being the hermit existence that I was so happy with before. People tend to use you for what you have. When you don't have anything or aren't in a position to share what little I do have they tend to think that you're being a prick. This is that I have often seen, people with little to share, sharing what little they have. Some people tend to have entitlement issues though. If you have something, they think they are entitled to it.

Oh, well...No more Mr. Nice Guy.

I'll just keep my crippled ass in my hole and stay happy with what little I do have.

Monday, June 20, 2011

A mixed bag of miscellaneous bullshit.

As in the plain fact that my mind and my thoughts have been scattered all over the place.

The reason for that of course is that I have allowed that to happen. It's part of my self defense mechanism that permit me to avoid things that require some attention. Like posting to this blog. To set things down in relatively correct and plain English so I can see, well me.

There are those days when even looking in a mirror is a frightening event.

As mentioned before, there are those I "talk" to on a continuing basis. At times things get confused or distorted. Part of the reason, and it's really just a product of our modern times, are conversations that are fragmented into bites of 160 characters or less. Get something out of sequence, forget that there was another part of that message you may have missed and the entire meaning is skewed.

Part of the problem is my need to respond in some half ass witty fashion before the whole message is really assembled in proper order. My need to look smart and clever in a rush has indeed bitten me in the ass. Truth be known, I am not that witty or clever. Smartass, not wiseass is closer to the mark.

I'm grateful for those who are patient enough to work with me on that short coming. God knows why, but they do. And whether smartass or wiseass, neither projects inteeligence or wisdom.

Intelligence is not a guarantee of wisdom either, but it must be noted that wisdom has been gained from those who, at the surface anyway, have appeared not to be too intelligent.

But that is what those 10 second character assessments will get you.

One other thing that has been distracting me from posting is my pursuit of silly, foolish fun. As mentioned before, I am "Mostly Harmless."Despite being the shameless attention whore and internet slut that I am, I am amazed what effect a few well placed words have on the clueless. Clueless as my farcebook profile, beyond the link to this blog is poor representation of who I really am.

This fact was pointed out by a friend on their own status update.

So I play with the ladies, or at least those who present themselves as such. I play with the politicians whose views don't align with mine. Conspiring with like minded people on promoting our "medicine" or giving someone a hard time is part of the sport. I also play with those who are all a whole lot like me. As one new friend mentioned, "A white crackhead on Facebook, what a surprise!"

There are who know the real Erie Cracker. They have taken the time to read the blog and have not run screaming. Private messages have led me to believe that some good has come from those associations for them as well as myself, regardless of how they have started. Some of those have become in a very real sense, friends.

There are others who shy away. I can't blame them, but we both may have lost.

Two other things have been distracting me as well.

Fathers Day was yesterday. Not a card, not a text, not even a peep from my children. No, this isn't about poor me. The fact they don't know me is my fault, not theirs. But I am making some efforts to at least repair those relationships. Some things like that take time. I am the one who needs to be patient though. Irony or Karma has a play in this as well.

Ironically, Karma is a motherfucker.

The other thing is that money is coming soon. I haven't been as diligent as in the past in preparation. Things need to be planned. Yeah, the lists need to be made. I am not that far from the street again that I can afford to get cocky about that fact. Nope, can't let that happen.

I, again haven't had a hit in almost a week. I did a bit drunk and high last weekend through the kindness of friends and friends of friends My funds were squirreled away out of reach. I don't really call for cash unless there is a real need. I know I'll ask for enough for that buzz and do what can be done to forestall that as much as possible.

One of the people who showed up at our little impromptu Friday night parties was wearing yellow tinted safety glasses. I had to mention that many people looked at life through rose colored glasses, but it appeared he was looking at life through piss colored glasses. Fact is I may well be the one who has been looking at life that way.

And so it goes...

For those reading this for the first time, the question begs to be asked:
How do you like me now?

Monday, June 13, 2011

The Good, the Bad and the Snarky

Clicking on the title will take to you Merriam-Webster's online dictionary with the proper definition of snarky. And that definition works just dandy in this case.

But first the good needs to be mentioned.

The good is that I really have been occupied in other ways that make the necessity of posting my complaints here a bit less imperative. Not to say that there are not things that need to be brought to this blog. It's just that once upon a time I had no other outlet for my frustrations, setbacks, problem or for that matter good things happening in my life.

In other words there were few who gave a rats ass about what was going in my life. Not too many confidants who would listen and even at times offer good feedback for the shit I was basically putting myself through. Now there are those who can cut through my rationalizations and get right to the heart of my malarkey and basically let me know what's up.

You can plug in malarkey while you have the Merriam-Webster Dictionary up if you like, but bullshit works pretty good as a definition as well.

So having those ears has given me an outlet not available to me for some time. And that is very good.

The bad is of course I am still hitting the pipe fairly regularly. In a sense it does indeed take away things that I would rather have in some sense. The inability on my part to say no to myself when there is more than $20.00 in my pocket is starting to grate in some respects.

And that really is the thing though. I'm not saying no to crack, but I am saying no to things I would rather have and enjoy in my life. Funny what a chemical can do to ones brain to disallow oneself some of the nicer things in life. Not everything of course, but enough to make one snarky.

The thing is that the people who I may well have been snarky towards are the same people who have given me their ears. And at times I feel as though I haven't been as willing to listen or for that matter even listening as attentively as I should. I am trying to work on that though.

There are some other things that have made me snarky as well. But it wouldn't be right to talk about those things in this blog. It's part of that thing that had me pause in making entries in here before. If it's not about me, it doesn't belong here.

Getting right to the heart of that though is I probably have no right to get all pissy about those things, as it really doesn't have a direct effect on my life. But because of the good people in my life, I have a place to vent. For that I am grateful.

Besides, a snarky Erie Crackhead even with a humorous edge is not a pretty sight.

Monday, June 6, 2011

I am not the only one out here.

By out here I mean the internet. The World Wide Webz.

Slowly people have kind of let me know where they are at in regards to their situations. It's not much different than my circumstances. Some are in worse shape and others might be doing a bit better. But there are connections being made. Social networks, but like real life do attract people with like interests.

I don't mean we're sharing numbers of drug dealers either. It also doesn't mean that all of my internet friends even use any drugs at all. There are some through their own devices that have escaped to some degree. There are some who have family members who have a problem of some sort.

But we have access to computers, either at the library or other public access sites. Some own there own machine. Perhaps, like me an old lap top has been donated. Maybe one was acquired through other means. It's possible considering the number of computers over the past ten years that have been stolen from me.

I may mentioned in previous posts about things stolen and some uncomfortable situation that happen when you scam a dealer for a few hits or more. Or when the dealer becomes his best customer bad things almost always happen, even if their drug isn't yours.

It might be nice if somewhat of a using group could be assembled say on FB. Perhaps this forum could be a resource for helping each of find some sanity and stability in a world that expects nothing more from us than running some hustle on the street or learning a bit of money management to slowly improve all of our individual situations.

Hey, it could happen and perhaps there are those out there reading this blog might be able to point me and others to those discussion groups so we all can improve our lot in life.

And how are things going with me? I have hit a rock or two since my last entry. Not as much in total as other months, but I did manage 9 days before finding myself in the position of wanting to make the call.

As mentioned before, I again have a reliable number with relatively decent quality. As mentioned before this new guy's number sort of fell into my lap and wheh I first tried it it worked just dandy.

Probably more dandy for the Dude rather than my financial situations, but I wasn't put in a situation of crawling the streets to play trial and error with the various dealers working curb service. It also should be mentioned that home delivery is part of this kid's service.

A blessing and a curse, but at least he arrives when he says he will.

The cat seems to have been put on the back burner for a little longer, but that is something that will happen before the summer has come to an end. The summer season seems to slip away before it gets started so I am continuing to put pressure on my friend to get back to the shelter to make things happen.

I used to be a guy who could make things happen. While some of that power is no longer available, I still have skills. (Insert smiley face here.)

Sunday, May 29, 2011

No cat..

Timing is everything. You have to show up at the shelter a little earlier than five minutes before it closes. But an application has taken along to be filled out and returned another day. That day isn't going to be that far in the future either.

I hope.

Rain, the most we've had in this part of the world for May has made getting out and about a bit problematic. Not in a major way, but I do know enough to get in out of the rain. Or stay out of the rain. In any event I didn't get too wet.

While I had made it a point not to find a new number, one kind of got dumped into my lap. So with money in hand and a twist in my guts, I made a call. Actually I made a few calls. Actually I made calls everyday from Tuesday through Saturday.

So I'm done for awhile.

Not going to call my friend who holds my money for more cash. Not going to play my neighbor Don into sliding me a few dollars either. He's been pretty much holed up in his apartment, so little fear there of his just wandering over with a pocket full of cash.

Sadly, it seems he's doing very little wandering anywhere, anyways.

In the mean time I'll be tapping my fingers, tapping on this this keyboard and hoping for better weather. Seeing people, talking with them, writing to them in some fashion or just waving Hi! will be occupying my time and keeping me busy until a cruise to the park is possible.

There is a kitty on my horizon though.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

And then a week.

Nothing extraordinary in that but then there is...

Yeah, it has been a week since my last hit. I had cash to buy crack with as well. No crack was purchased. The thought passed through my mind to be certain but it seems that it just flitted through. The thought of scoring and the cravings that accompany didn't punch me in gut for a change.

Yeah, I had money in my pocket and didn't call the Dude. My regular Dude is still MIA. The other guys shit is shit and I had other priorities. I bought some weed. I threw money in for a propane tank for a recently acquired gas grill donated by the landlord. I bought some food items considered healthy and nutritious in some circles.

Fritos or crack?
Fritos or crack?
Fritos or crack?
Fritos won.

YAY, marijuana for intervening!

My take on my drug usage has taken a new perspective as well. I used to consider it problem. An issue that took a lot of energy from me in the way that I thought, acted and reacted. Now it is being considered more of a nuisance in my life. A nuisance that keeps me from doing things for, well me.

It is all about me, dammit.

In reality it isn't all about me. But getting me going in the right direction has an effect on what direction other things in my life might conceivably take.

Money will be coming shortly. Again, lists will be made. Things will be bought and bills will be paid. Money will be set aside and some little things will be bought, or attended or enjoyed that haven't been a regular part of my life for awhile. Nothing extravagant by anyones measure, but simply things that give pleasure.

A pint of Guinness, an ice cream cone, Chinese carry out or maybe a movie.

I'm easy that way.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

A few hours then a week...

As in a few hours after my last post, I did cave in and buy some crack. I knew that it was going to be shit and wasn't wrong. Then I managed to get through a week before hitting it again. Still shit, still wasted some dollars and time. Still did nothing to improve me or the world around me.

Again, big surprise there...

It isn't so much as an improvement of any sort as an attempt at times to silence the roar. Quiet the beast perhaps or take a short chemical vacation from my past and present. More the past in may respects as the present in some fashion is more tolerable.

I keep myself busy.

I talk with friends and there are some who talk to me. At times I'm amazed some people would even bother giving me the time of day. But the phone rings, emails show up and posts and comments come into the electronic crack they call Facebook.

A friend from Michigan keeps in touch pretty regularly, a friend from Louisiana I haven't heard from in awhile also hollered at me. Neighbors and others stop by as well. Emails from some give me much to think about. People who trust me with their stuff have shown me a great deal about me. I have learned way more listening than all the jaw flapping I'm tend to do.

I do play as well.

While the amount of crack I've ingested has indeed declined, the amount of beer and cannabis has increased in some measure. In that there are pluses and minuses. The plus that the alcohol and bud hasn't been as mentally taxing on me. Well, not completely free from some consequences. The thing is though I'm not sitting in the kitchen or bedroom waiting for men in black combat gear to be crashing through my windows or ceiling.

Hell yes, there have been days when I've hit a pipe and it's felt like that.

Thing is though, and not to be a broken record, I get fucking randy when a few beers and a few tokes are inside of me. I ain't dead yet. But it is something I have to work on. Exercising a certain amount of personal self control is required. Letting the thought pass for the deed.

Actually I put a bit of that into practice in the past week.

A little.

Actually I have also thrown caution to the wind in other circumstances. I can be a pain in the ass. And also as mentioned in previous posts, most people laugh it off, gently tell me to shut up or just plain ignore me. At times I'm someone who needs to be taken in small doses.

But back to the learning things. and this was and is big for me.

I was given a tip to try to reconnect with someone who is distant from me for a number of reasons. Not as in completely shut out, but not overly enthusiastic about regular communication. I really don't want to talk about the how beyond saying this depends on our wonderful technology and patient persistence. A gently in your face everyday sort of thing.

Like a salesperson who doggedly refuses to give up.

I'm glad I know smart people.

Friday, May 6, 2011

I'm not sure what to say.

That hasn't stopped me in the past though.

Despite my reservations about calling the "Other Dude", I did. As suspected his shit was shit. Garbage. Crap. Almost no buzz and mostly soda and cut. Soft, like silly putty. A waste of time and money.

To say I won't call him again is a lie of course, but the incentive to do so is dramatically lessened by the quality of my last buy. My regular guy, I am now really convinced, is gone, gone, gone. now I am sitting here wondering what will happen. To him and me.

As mentioned in an earlier post, this may not be a bad thing. But until the twists in my gut gets to the point where I don't give a shit, I guess I'm Erie Crackless. As a friend mentioned when I restarted writing blog, I might want to consider reinventing myself.

It may be happening by default.

Not to say that I have had a sober existence, but I did use money for things other than crack. Like for some cheap ass wine. MD 20/20 Orange Jubilee goes with Cheetos, Fritos and Doritos and not much else. I have also eaten a few of my vicodin in a recreational manner. Add to that eating a couple Ambein for a night time snack made for at least one interesting night. A couple of bowls of Mother Nature just for balance.

I only wish I remembered it all.

I went to bed at about midnight. I do know that I sent out some texts that might have, in a different day and age, gotten me arrested. Well, maybe not arrested, but certainly might have been cause for someone to send a friend over to beat the living shit out of me. But those texts went out a long time after I thought I had actually gone to sleep.

Well, it's a good thing I have friends with a sense of humor.

I let this rest for a few days to wait for the fallout and to kind of get my mind right. The funny thing is most of what came back was positive. Certainly not glowing recommendations that I do that every night, or ever again for that matter, but a sense of people knowing me for what or who I am.

One conversation shined a bit of light on that for me and for that I am grateful.

I also bought ice cream, which is not a go together with MD 20/20 Orange Jubilee.

Monday, May 2, 2011

This may not be all bad.

But the Dude isn't answering the phone.

Actually, his phone is turned off. That's usually indicative of about three different things:
1. - He is out of product.
2 - He is out of town.
3 - He's in jail.

For a lot of reasons I am hoping it's one or two. Despite the negative things associated with dealers of that poison, consuming it is my choice and it is one way that he supports himself and his family.

Number three would be complete speculation on my part, but there was a "sweep" by the police last week of street level dealers. I don't know where my dude is in the rankings, but that is really not my business.

There are some things to which I want to be ignorant.

But I have only one other number and am loath to use it. First of all because this other guy has real issues with time. Secondly, his stuff is generally shit. Thirdly, well there is a third reason but I'll just leave things at reasons one and two.

I don't want to go through the bullshit of finding another source. The hassles and risks involved in that are more than I'm willing to expose myself to right now.

Do I want to get high? Damned right I do but for the moment, just not that badly. So this truly may not be all bad.

Let's see how this plays out.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Since February 28th

Not much has happened of consequence.

Well, that isn't entirely true as there have people who have entered my life in some measure and some that I have even met face to face. I did go on a short trip to Michigan to take part in Hash Bash. I have also consumed my usual ration of crack during that period of time.

There has been no walking on water or other miraculous events.

Much of my life and interaction with people is on online forums of one sort or another. That is the product of my having a difficult time getting outside whenever the mood hits me. The weather doesn't help that either. Not having a vehicle doesn't enhance the chances of my being out as well.

But have you seen the price of gas?

The people that have to a degree entered my online and to a degree real life run the entire spectrum as well. To casual acquaintances through deep and solid friendship. Most of these people have never sat across from me. In some cases they don't have a clue what I look like nor would I recognize them if we passed on a street. There are a very few who I actually talk with on the phone.

I'm certain the image my voice conjures up is Kermit the Frog.

So, while people actually hanging out with me is rare, but frequent enough for my tastes, it's not like there is no one to talk to should the need arise. So a free flow of bullshit, jokes, gossip and real, real conversations are part of my life.

For that I am grateful.

The trip to Michigan brought me face to face with a character I have corresponded with and spoke to on the phone many times. Sometimes the call is nothing more than "Hey, how you doin'?" In my shoes, sometimes a call from someone like that is huge.

But anyway, I attended an event quite unlike anything I have ever experienced before. It certainly isn't because I have lead a sheltered life, but from not being the right place at the right time. In short, I have never been anywhere where a huge group of people, in the street, in broad daylight, in front of uniformed police and yes God too, smoked, shared and enjoyed cannabis.

Just walking around the street fair, looking over at this kid taking a hit and smiling. Then he smiles and passes his joint to me. The first time that happened in my life. Complete stranger shares his doob with me. I was at first unnerved, but did the puff, puff, passed it back. It was good and I told him so as I thanked him.

What I thought was an isolated incident turned out to be anything but...

On that note I owe a great deal of gratitude to those who pushed and prodded me to take that trip. In many ways it almost didn't happen but there were those who looked at it for me as a "Better that than that" type of thing. Also thanks need to be expressed to those who put me up for the night and tolerated my bad jokes and twisted sense of humor. Most importantly, new friends were made and some friendships strengthened.

Yes, I did get high with a little help from my friends.

Smoking mother nature is miles away from smoking crack. As mentioned earlier, there was plenty of that going on as well. Not at Hash Bash, but before I went and after I had returned. I knew it was going to happen and planned accordingly. It's a plan I will be employing in the future as well.

With a little help from my friends...

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Can a Crackhead be trusted?

Obviously not...

I had made a decision to stop posting to this blog about two months ago. While the reasons for doing so still flit through my mind, those reasons really don't carry the same currency as they did when I posted my last entry.

Things change.

The fact of the matter is that this blog has been one of the few truly healthy outlets for my expressing hopes, fears and frustrations. Not writing here and not getting feedback has left a hole of sorts inside of me. I know what the 12 Step folks would have to say about filling that hole, but that just doesn't cut it for me.

I don't consider myself an atheist, a God of my understanding is still as illusive to me today as it was when I was forced to go to my first 12 step meeting.

That aside, there seemed to be a pressure building as the time passed from my post of February 28th, 2011 until about 15 minutes ago. That's when I started beating on the keyboard to fill this form. The decision to start this up again was not taken lightly either.

I asked people I respect and trust for their opinions.

The responses were by and large positive. I already knew that in some fashion that I would be writing something somewhere. The response I was shooting for from these trusted folks wasn't just a yes or no answer either. I guess some sort of validation was required before I resumed this thing.

Suggestions were made in regards to maintaining focus. Some suggested downplaying the using aspect of my life. Others mentioned the possibility of changing the venue, so to speak. A couple of people suggested reinventing myself.

The thing with that is no matter how I appear to others, I still am just me to me.

One person said, "Why do you care what I think? Just do it..." Another person was "stoked" that I was contemplating a return to posting in this blog. One person simply said that this blog helped them. Considering the source of those remarks, I almost had no choice but to return here.

I am no Maya Angelou, but I think this statement holds true for every single one of us, "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." So while posts may not be as frequent as in the past, but they will appear when the pressure of what ever is chewing at me dictates some action. Posting private shit publicly has had it's benefits.

So, with all that said and to those who may have been happy when I stopped posting or are unhappy that I have resumed this blog, I leave you with this:

I am now squeezing my eyes shut tight as I click "Publish Post."

Monday, February 28, 2011

A Crackhead in Erie

This is the last post I'll be making in this blog.

As mentioned before, there are a lot of reasons for that, but primarily it has gotten out of hand. Firstly because my anonymity has been shot in the ass. I have no one to fault for that beyond myself.

Betraying my own anonymity has had some negative effects on me and on the people who are close to me. Well, maybe not close to me, but people who have known me in the past and those who may have wandered through my door recently. Some people have used that association, either in real life or in online situations as a freak flag of sorts. That has created some tension and bad blood.

My fault for allowing that, not theirs.

The other thing was that this blog was supposed to be a place to write about what was happening in my life and to be used as a tool for making improvements in my life. In some regards that has happened but some things changed in a negative fashion. While I started this essentially as a guide post for me, I started writing to an audience. Not good. I also started writing at people.

That is even worse.

As mentioned in an earlier post, I felt hypocritical. Who the hell am I to tell people what is right or wrong. I became someone who I would avoid at all costs when someone started in on me in any fashion. Jimi Hendrix said, "I'm the one that has to die when it's time for me to die, so let me live my life, the way I want to."

So that philosophy will be applied to myself and those who I may meet down the road.

A new private blog has been started. No one has been invited to see what's contained within it at this time. I'm not sure anyone will be able to view it at all. It's a matter of trust and I have little trust in many people and even less for myself.

The other part of this is that I have discovered something that frightens me to no end. I am really good at playing people. Manipulative to no end with an eye towards getting what I want and to hell with anyone else. The most terrifying part is that I am an expert at getting over on myself. That might well have little to do with hitting a crack pipe and more to do with just being selfish.

So I leave those of you who for whatever reason have read this blog with this:

Sunday, February 27, 2011

How readers have gotten to this blog.

It does appear that a great many of readers are indeed locals. That is supported by the fact that the vast majority of visits have been from local sources, such as and More than a few were referred to this site through searches on the different engines available to us all.

The focus of this post is some of the search terms that brought those readers here. I'm not certain they found what they were looking for, but I thought that answering some questions posed by those searches might be helpful to someone.

Or not.

Anyway, the following is a list and my response to some search terms that have shown up on the stats for this blog:

Crackheads in my neighborhood.

There are places in Erie that do indeed have an over abundance of smokers wandering around. Even in the depths of winter, they can be found on certain areas, hustling to scrap up enough to get a twenty piece.

I can only imagine the frustration of some residents in these neighborhoods because of the apparent drug seeking behavior. Girls on the stroll and johns circling the the streets, dealers wheeling about looking for their customers, crackheads ducking between houses or into an alley to do a quick hit doesn't enhance in a positive way the aura of a neighborhood.

Not to downplay this, but Erie is fortunate in that this activity is not nearly as bad or as evident as it is in others cities. But if you know what to look for, you will find it anywhere.

To look at that search in another light is that there are crackheads in almost every neighborhood. From the center of the city to gated and guarded exclusive developments in some of the wealthiest communities in the country where having the right key code or having a guard buzz you in are a requirement of entry.

So basically, we're everywhere.

My ex (all types apply) is a crackhead and left me for someone else.

Throw a party and don't find a new crackhead to replace the one who left. Unless of course you are a smoker as well, as they may come in handy to get what you need.

Missing in action.

Well if there were doubts in your mind about someone being involved with crack, this is a sure marker. People wonder and fret. Loved ones anguish about what could have happened. Hospitals are called and in some cases even the police.

Usually three or five or more days later the MIA returns burnt out, broke and perhaps without their vehicle. Tall tales ensue and promises are made, but essentially the crackheads well guarded secret is revealed. The shit hits the fan and this is where many of us make our way into our first rehab.

That's right, first rehab.

It should also be mentioned that after that first big run, the blossoming crackhead will hide out in the D&A or psych ward of their local hospital. That's so they can figure out a good line of bullshit when finally confronted by family or friends. Whether they are aware of it or not, hospital staff and counselors are also great at supplying material for the end tale we may weave.

It's called "The 12 Steps."

How to find someone mentally incompetent in Erie, PA.

Sadly, one need not look too far walking around in downtown Erie. Many of the homeless have serious issues. Even those who have some sort of shelter seem to find themselves in or about the center of this town. Many I suspect are coming or going from the various social service agencies as well as the places where a hot meal can be had to get them through the day.

I tend to believe that the number will increase as funding for those agencies as well as other programs gets squeezed out of government budgets at all levels.

And that is a sad state of affairs.

Can you trust a crackhead in jail.

That might be one of the only places you can trust one of us. The subject of trusting crackheads is covered in other entries to this blog.

What will a crackhead do sexually.

There are a few variations on the query, but that was the one that stuck with me. About the same things you, you or even you would do sexually. Sometimes it will happen quicker but all too often the focus is on the drug and all other interests are way beyond secondary.

21 year old girl needs money in Erie, PA.

That one still has me scratching my head.

There may be one more post left in me for this public place, but again the blog will not be added to by me after tomorrow and comments will be shut down as well.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Early morning September 8, 2010

I had been doing way too much "medicine." As in, let's see how much I really can take. Happily, as I live on a fixed income and have spent most of my money on evil crack, it doesn't take too much to get really fucked up.

It's that stream of consciousness crap that often happens to those who partake. I wasn't going to do anything with it beyond save it in an email file. But since this blog is coming to an end, I thought I would share it with anyone interested.

Those who have had conversations with me while I or we were stoned already know how I am under the influence of cannabis. By and large an insufferable smart ass. For the most part it's just stupid fun. But I was indeed having a conversation with myself. Part of writing it in the first place was too see what it looked like the following day. Now I know why I took so long to look at that note to myself.

Silly insanity, totally unedited spew follows with apologies to Betty White and Sam Kinison, where ever you are:

Now...this is fucked up, but..
Am I or have I been just a crazy loon lost in his own world. Wondering whether the rest of the world cared, or if he even did himself. (This warrants serious editing tomorrow).

Some say crazy, ohters say lost.
I prefer lost, but who knows?

Some say...and I'm not quite sure of what all is said, but ...(I've gotten lost in my own minds mirages)

And all this because of a few hits of "medicine." Is it? Yes, in a way it is, like soma in "A Brave New World." Yes, as in it will make the lives of many with ailments traditional treatments have been useless. And all of this does indeed have it's pros and cons, the results either way, frighten me.

Good thing I'm not sending this anywhere public. I have done so in error in the past, and that makes me uncomfortable to know that there are those who recognize that I do lose inhibition on occasion.

Will this make any sense to anyone, especially me tomorrow? I guess we'll find out.

Should I continue to ramble or just call it quits right here.? (Fruedian slip...or just me fuckin' with me?)

Saving this bullshit for the future might be a waste, it might aslo be a shame it it were not saved.

Yep...The whole world is crazy, except for you and for me, but sometimes I'm not to sure about you. Who owns that quote?

Some say that I'm crazy. There are those who say that I'm just lost.
I'm going with lost. I hope...

So, where did that come from? I must have seen it someplace. Wondering around, trying to find myself, becuase, yep I was lost.

Or is this just me doing a mental "Beer Barre Polka" with whoever stumbles into this place.

If I have offended anyone, tough shit. You knew what I was like when you invited me into your fucking computers! I was in one of those moods like the comedian who wore the beret...long hair. I'll look that up tomorrow AM)

This may be edited later, when I'm not so fugged up, to increase impact on bullshit I deem in need of more impactiveness, and to softener shit that may put me in a poor light. (You ain't got balls sonny if you don't post that with everything else above it...Do ya'?)

I wonder what you'll think about all this horse shit in the morning. And fuck, wouldn't you know. I editing while i'm writing this and trying to say it won't be edited in the mornig beyond the editing that might be allowed somewhere above where you're reading this.) Some how this all sounds oh so fucked up. No more editing..tonight anyway. yeah right. Maybe.

I'm not sure if another toke is in order as things are starting to fall into place. Like what am I doing writing this nonsense and waiting to see what come out the other side in the morning. Part is to see if any of this makes sense when read in a different light. Part of me is still on the lost or thing.

Would it be correct to think that there is a baby boomer equivialnt of Sex and the City. Comprised of widows, spinsters, divorcees and mothers. Wait, I'm sorry. they sort of did that in the past. Golden Girl's. And yes, Betty is still hot. She so sweet...

OK...the buzz is wearing off. It's time to send this. Where it goes is where it is you got your balls.

I'm gonna' do a toke after I hit send..So fuck you all.


Thursday, February 24, 2011

Right,, wrong or otherwise...

This is how I am going to do this...

I have at least one more post to this blog to do yet. It concerns some things I've discovered in the stats. In particular, questions raised in search terms some have used to get to this blog. Some of which I find amusing and others that are indeed disturbing.

But that's not what is going to be addressed right now.

I will be making no more entries after March 1st in this public place. A private blog will be set up with the possibility of those with sincere a interest to be allowed to view and comment on. I'm bouncing back and forth on that but writing about what I know and what I feel has helped me to a degree. There have indeed been comments in this blog that have given me food for thought and have helped immeasurably.

Not all feedback has been ignored.

In the seventeen months that this blog has been in existence there have been over 10,000 views. Not a lot by internet standards, as there is a particularly narrow focus on who might be interested in this type of material. But someone is reading it and hopefully getting something positive from what has been written here.

Or it could be one person with OCD that keeps clicking on the link.

Seriously though, the stats do point out some things that make me believe this might be required reading for a psych class. There are weird spikes in readership, when say 12 to 25 views are made all at one time. The spikes have little to do with when a new post is published, but are at regular intervals.

It also just might be the Crack Blog of the Month Club.

My hope is though perhaps there might be someone out there who can figure out the right words to say to a crackhead to make them stop and say to themselves, "Oh, fuck! Why didn't I see that myself."

There certainly those out there who will say that I just don't want to see the obvious. Then again, maybe I've gone too far.

There is also one doctoral candidate that is using at least some of this for source material for their thesis. It is entirely possible that what is in that thesis will kick my ass, but I do so want to read that paper after it's been submitted. Hopefully their submission will be well accepted and my awareness of their presence won't hurt the veracity of that thesis.

I also hope that whatever is gleaned from this personal crap publicly displayed will help them help others.

Lastly, there are those who haven't commented publicly, but have sent me private emails. I guess those were the ones who really got what I was trying to do here. People in my shoes or with someone close to them with similar problems in their lives. I'm crossing my fingers for all of us.

With all that said, the blog as published to March 1, 2011 will stay online. Comments will be shut down and I will no longer make a spectacle of myself and others here.

Well, not here anyways...