Friday, June 22, 2012

Henry Miller wrote...

"I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive."

That was in his book, "Tropic of Cancer."

Money, as I have said many times in the past has been a trigger, so to speak, that fed a fire that seems to be there most all of the time. There have been times where the Dude might front me a bit here and a bit there. And while trying to fight off the urge to not take advantage of those offers, I cave in to them. It's part of the deal, you know...

Show me an addict who hasn't and I'll show you a bullshit artist.

This is what is going on right now. One Dude who fronts me isn't calling at all. An attempt to reach him on a few occasions left me thinking that his phone has been shut off. And again, that usually means his was stolen, he's out of town or he's in jail.

Considering past history with this one, my money is on his being in jail.

I did get a call from another Dude who occasionally does a front. He wanted to know if I would allow someone to sit in my place for awhile. Initially I said yes, aided by the fact that he would throw me off something for that favor.

After a few minutes I called him back. That wasn't going to work for me that night.

The reason was I am loath to have people in here and even more so to have strangers in my home. Add to that is there is no way I want this place to turn into a crack house. Been down that road before and it isn't a pretty picture.

I also suspected that some fool was going to rent their car to this kid. That usually means that when they say they be back by 10:00 PM chances are they won't show until 3:00 AM. There is also the risk that they may not show back up at all.

I've seen that shit happen more than once.

Hell, I've had it happen to me.

So passing on that offer, while making me a bit queasy in the short term, has given me a reason to breathe a bit easier. I don't run a damned baby sitting service. I also hope the fool that may have rented his car out got it back, if not one time, in one piece.

Another Dude I know doesn't do credit and that's more than alright by me.

But the simple fact of the matter is while I really want to get fucking high, it probably isn't going to happen for awhile. And money day is still a little ways away. If I'm quick I might even be able to get some squirreled away out of reach.

So for the moment, with no money, no resources and no hopes, I am the happiest man alive.

But I still want to get fucking high.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

About four blocks one way and three blocks another

Sometimes it's a good idea to go where you've been to get a good idea of where you are now.

Today also seemed like a great day to take a walk to the City Mission to have lunch. It's not like this was something that had to be done to prevent starvation, but there was a time when that's exactly why I ate there.

Well at least 4 out of seven days in a week.

While some things there have changed many things remained the same. Yes, there were new faces. Sadly there were also more children there to eat as well. Some of the regulars I knew were still standing in line or waiting for the bell to ring for seconds.

Considering it's the beginning of the month, the dining room is surprisingly full.

There were still the mentally ill sitting at the tables. Talking to themselves or talking to anyone within earshot. Perhaps even talking to some invisible friend, who I hoped was giving counsel for calm. One fellow was laughing for no reason apparent to me while more than one was just staring into...space?

I do have to confess to laughing at some private joke or memory. I have also been guilty of staring blankly while recalling something from my past or trying to see into the future.

It comes with the territory, I guess.

As always, there were some folks there I remember by name. C always stops by to say "Hi! Aren't God's blessings great?" I tell C yes, they are and ask how he's been getting along. P was also there and it can't be said I was happy to see him. I haven't seen him since well before Don died. He looked well enough for the wear and had a smile on his face.

The smile was the scary part.

G hollers, "Hey! Long time no see! How's everything going for you?" I tell him things are OK and that I wish I lived in a nice place like his. G lives in the housing units across the street. He has a balcony on the 7th floor which looks out towards the lake.

Besides the fact that his rent is less than mine, I'm a little jealous of that little feature. Perhaps in the great scheme of it all, he may well be more deserving.

The busker, who I passed on the way to the Mission also was there for some lunch. I'm sure the spare change he collects from his strumming is for a much HIGHER purpose than merely food.

Going to the mission for lunch is a necessity for me though. It isn't so much to make me feel good about where I am. It isn't so much about letting me know what's been accumulated in material things. It isn't about trying to make myself feel superior to people who spend their nights more outside than indoors.

It's to remind myself how fucking close I am to having be there again.