tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49710544890523451512024-03-12T21:26:33.011-04:00A Crackhead in ErieTrials and travails of a crackhead in Erie, PA. Not meant to be a pretty picture, 'cause it ain't. But much like Joe Friday used to say, "Just the facts."
It has been brought to my attention that this thing is FULL of triggers. So don't be surprised when you start looking for phone numbers you hopefully threw away.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.comBlogger250125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-13303109168936369372020-06-04T08:49:00.000-04:002020-06-04T08:49:06.087-04:00That was the week that wasIt was indeed an extremely weird week.<br />
<br />
Monday was Memorial Day. For unknown reason, I thought that a cookout was in order. Poorly thought out and planned, a few folks, who were already here we're about the only attendees.<br />
<br />
A few hotdogs were grilled, a few beers were had and that was the extent of that celebration.<br />
<br />
Tuesday was another matter entirely. The day started like any other monthly payday. Some debts were paid, some supplies were bought and then things went sideways.<br />
<br />
It started when a friend toók me to Wallyworld for my monthly grocery run. I felt really out of sorts and asked to cut the trip short. When I did get home I thought some sort of overdose had occured. As it turned out, I was running a seriously high temp and was, for lack of a better word, delerious.<br />
<br />
To be honest though I thought that I had indeed taken too much of something. I was out of my head and felt that I had the Covit. Testing proved that not to be the case, but for awhile I was convinced.<br />
<br />
The night spent in the ICU was like being in a horror show. The sick sounds of people having their lungs vacuumed out, to too frequent screams from those truly on the edge of death left me badly shaken.<br />
<br />
The balance 9f the week was a mixed bag. From my escape from the *CU and the hospital, to the trip home. The new people met, held in contempt, mistrusted or trusted a little. The dirbiveness of some debts and the hassle and hustle with a flipper and tank peddler.<br />
<br />
On further note, I'm out of town and have enough medicine to get my through Friday.<br />
<br />
So aft<br />
<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-74094203309699717332020-05-21T08:03:00.001-04:002020-05-21T08:03:36.083-04:00I was a little bit happy...And I was a bit disappointed.<br />
<br />
I got in contact with my old roommate a bit earlier in the week. We had decided that a get together was warranted. From my perspective to clear the air on some things.<br />
<br />
To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what motivated her. Perhaps the same reasons I felt a face to face meeting was necessary. Maybe just to satisfy some curiousity she had regarding how things were at the old ranch.<br />
<br />
Or whatever name she may have given this place.<br />
<br />
Regardless, I was actually tickled that she decided to visit. She seemed to be pleased as well, in her low key, reserved sort of way. She did laugh, on an unforced some type of way and did indeed have a real smile on her face. I also asked her to score a gram of her favorite recreational drug.<br />
<br />
The price she quoted from her dude was a bit on the high side. I let that go, as the at she probably needed a few bucks for later. If memory duoted me correctly, she seldom scored more than a half gram when buying for herself.<br />
<br />
I also remembered that she didn't put all our f her money into boi. The reason was the trips to Micky D's for her favorite sandwich and largest. She also had a good investment in makeup.<br />
<br />
The reasons for that were both personal and professional. On that I will comment no further than tto day that she is a woman of incredible beauty.<br />
<br />
As I had found out earlier, I did need her to do something that I couldn't do myself. That was to let me into my apartment. Without going into too much detail, some people left my place and had me locked out. On a sense.<br />
<br />
So we walked to my place annd we shared somethings that had happened since the last time we were together. My part was not a happy tale.<br />
<br />
<br />
Her story, what little she told didn't seem as tragic as mine, but nonetheless, there didn't seem to be s great deal to cheer about. It almost seemed to me as though she were a prisoner of sorts. There were rules and hours that needed to be followed. <br />
Getting locked out for the night had consequences.<br />
<br />
Anyway we got in and I offered her the boi that was bought. I weighed it first. It was light by almost 2 points. I should have told her to call the dude back.<br />
<br />
I didn't.<br />
<br />
I also should have divvied the dope up. Again she grabbed about half of the gram. I was actually taken aback by what was left. But manners maketh the man. So I kept my mouth shut.<br />
<br />
I had forgotten her appetite for heroin.<br />
<br />
As was our custom when getting high together, I would ask her to hit me. Well. She did get herself a good hit and was nodding out while trying to stick a needle into my vein.<br />
<br />
That's a lot of fun.<br />
<br />
The other mistake was made when she asked me to turn on my hotspot. From then on her attention was divided. I could have had a conversation with her, even if she weren't high as a kite from the heroin.<br />
<br />
From that point forward, the evening was lost. The realization that she was happier away from me than in this place did slowly sink into my stubborn brain.<br />
<br />
Added to that is the sorry fact that she is not long for this world. That's a shame too.<br />
<br />
Did I mention that she is an incredibly beautiful woman.<br />
<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-10394426148576950212020-05-13T22:25:00.000-04:002020-05-13T22:25:01.758-04:00Things are going to changeThat's my hope anyways...<br />
<br />
For the better part of ten years I have lived alone. Occasionally friends came to visit, get high and generally just party a bit.<br />
<br />
It was a rare occasion if someone spent the night. As a matter of fact, that was pretty much discouraged. The thought of any sort of entanglement was antithema to my way of life.<br />
<br />
I was and am disabled, but pretty much functioned as an independent person. Those days are now behind me. My condition has deteriorated to the point where help for some everyday duties are becoming difficult at best.<br />
<br />
This is the price of living too long.<br />
<br />
Other factors have been the passing of a dear friend. She was the one sure bet if I needed something like a trip to a doctor's office or a monthly trip to the grocery store.<br />
<br />
Yeah, I know, you're surprised that a crackhead did things like eat or cleaned their house.<br />
<br />
The simple fact is that life goes on and there are times we need to catch up to that fact. The thing is that our bad habits stay. To be honest, we tend to gather one or two others along the way as well.<br />
<br />
As mentioned before meth and heroin have been added to the mix. Crack and powder cocaine have slipped to the wayside a bit.<br />
<br />
It also seems the fans if those drugs, perhaps hobbyists, if you may, also look for safer places to consume their shit.<br />
<br />
Heroinin in particular and occasionally meth are injected. IV consumption is easier to accomplish. Needles exchanges and laws allowing anyone to purchase needles have helped along those lines. Therei hardly any excuse to use a dirty needle.<br />
<br />
One would think so, anyways.<br />
<br />
Smoking meth, or ice as they call it around here is generally smoked. The pipe is a bit different than a crack pipe, but I'm getting on a tangent.<br />
<br />
Many if these are homeless, broke and at times desperate. The ways that they acquire their drugs is sometimes at my expense and maybe even dignety.<br />
<br />
Now I need a person to help me with the day to day duties of carrying on life that at least gives the appearrance of normalcy. The activities that have been happening here have to end. Not only for the sake and safety of whoever may come to help, but for my safety and sanity as well.<br />
<br />
It's going to be an interesting few weeks.<br />
<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-5850628175785606842020-05-07T16:55:00.002-04:002020-05-07T16:55:21.437-04:00Changes versus GrowthI received a phone call from a friend late last night. The caller had just celebrated his birthday. He is now 33<br />
Years of age.<br />
<br />
Or is he 32 years old.<br />
<br />
We talked about a wide variety of topics. From relationships to the comditions of of our living arraignments. We talked about the manner in which we interacted with each other and how honesty forms a basis for the way people treat each other.<br />
<br />
I haven't been the most honest person I know by a longshot. The thing is that the things I do to manipulate people is so automatic and part of my fiber that the process is almost complete before I realize what has happened.<br />
<br />
How I reached this position in this blog and of course in self realization is a mystery.<br />
<br />
Here we are...<br />
<br />
With all this said, my place is yet again being used for nefarious purposes. There is a payoff this time, as the place did get cleaned.<br />
<br />
The down side is the fact that again strangers are in my home. Perhaps a bit less grimy than others. Maybe not as desperate either as well. But the results usually end up less than a satisfactory.<br />
<br />
Again.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-81331309616617560512020-05-04T23:25:00.000-04:002020-05-04T23:25:15.682-04:00Coronavirus and Cinco DeMayoWell, I have never really understood the reasons why American citizens would be celebrating a Mexican holiday. This year though, many of us will celebrate any holiday for any reason. Any reason to abandon sheltering in place would be welcomed.<br />
<br />
I craved getting out of my apartment, regardless of the reason. Everything, with exception of a fire was welcomed to me. Block parties, to Jazz & Blues Fest were the usual excuses to get outside. This winter, while not particularly a severe one, did offer opportunities to escape for short periods of time.<br />
<br />
Then Covid - 19 or Coronavirus made its appearence. The entire community was out on total lockdown. Only businesses that were considered."essential" were allowed to remain open. Many, if not all of you reading this are fully aware of the restrictions the entire population is now yet placed under.<br />
<br />
Anyways, ot get to the main reason for this post, I'll let the historians research elsewhere.<br />
<br />
I want to talk about things lost. Those things are both people and stuff. The stuff ranged from the drugs kept here, to the clothes and personal property that has vanished from sight.<br />
<br />
I have to admit to a gradually fading short term memory. Part of that may well be the result of the recreational chemicals I ingest. That results in my occasionally losing small to substantial amounts of those drugs.<br />
<br />
One thing I am certain if is an unexpected visit from various folks, who believe they know where those drugs are hiding. Sometimes they even find them.<br />
<br />
Sometimes.<br />
<br />
As the weather improves, the more adventurous of my friends are trying other methods to gain unauthorized access to my space and property.<br />
<br />
Sadly, my computer, while seldom used, but surely missed when I get into a mood to write has disappeared.<br />
<br />
In regards to people, that makes me ache inside. From my first "home healthcare worker" to a long time neighbor and friend who shared confidences with each other.<br />
<br />
Both seem to be doing well, although direct contact has been nonexistant. There are other ways to know they are moving on with their lives, but detail is missing.<br />
<br />
I miss them both.<br />
<br />
They probably know that fact and may even feel the same.<br />
<br />
I guess.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-78352176245909185732020-04-01T16:49:00.001-04:002020-04-01T16:49:41.720-04:00How much from you...How much from me...<br />
<br />
That's the way it seems to be going lately around here. Life with another human being, so far as I am concerned is kind of a waste. They seem to want more than I have to give and it is kind of tiring.<br />
<br />
The roof we have over our heads is temporary at best. My efforts to locate new residence is falling behind as well. Costs without paying rent are out of hand and soon the creditors are going to be looking for theirs.<br />
<br />
Fact of the matter is that I just don't have it.<br />
<br />
That could prove to be painful in so far as my future is concerned. Debts must be paid and we don't care how, by cash or by other means. That is just the way that it has to be. No one else's ass is on the line.<br />
<br />
Just mine.<br />
<br />
This it must be noted, was written several days ago. My mood, while not greatly improved, is a little better. My ex-room mate was here long enough to screw up my front door lock. I really can't leave until that is repaired. That may well be a few days, the ways some stuff works around here.<br />
<br />
Actually, until the weather improves somewhat, there isn't really a great deal to get excited about outside of here. So back to my bad habits and communicating with my dealers, creditors, fellow junkies and addicts.<br />
<br />
All that in the hopes that this freak show we are all living, somehow all returns to normal.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-31928823888657029522020-03-22T03:49:00.001-04:002020-03-22T03:49:52.686-04:00At what cost...I do often wonder how much the poison pumped into my viens really does cost. On one hand, there is this head strong headed creature who has put no value on her morals or appearrance.<br />
<br />
Her head between between some strangers legs has huge issues for me. So if also holds that if I benefit from her lack of scrupples, I too have no scrupples myself.<br />
<br />
Prove me wrong.<br />
<br />
Those who know me also know that is not the case. As a matter of fact though. That same sad junkie would rather suck a strangers cock than mess with mine.<br />
<br />
That hurts even more...<br />
<br />
The never ending excuse is that we need the money. The fact she needs the money and whatever else is derived from those "client" appointments.<br />
<br />
It's time we both went out own ways and looked out for our own interests. I suspect the accounts are way out of balance. The truth in that soon will show.<br />
<br />
That shit ends tonight.<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-11465616084319965982020-03-10T16:17:00.000-04:002020-03-10T16:17:34.960-04:00A Different Twist...The twist is in and of itself, par for the course.<br />
<br />
I have been messing around on other social media platforms. Instagram in particular, has been a place where expressing oneself visually has proven to be a positive outlet for myself. It has been so successful, that my anonymity has all but disappeared.<br />
<br />
Over a period of time, a few of the photos that I did manage to snap did attract the eye of some who possessed, either by nature or training the quality that collectors desired. Regardless, those pics did catch some eyes. This has created a situation that brings me to this point.<br />
<br />
A local gallery owner thought enough of my"work" to approach me about showing those pictures. I did discuss how the look in those photos was achieved. He did say that I should be honest in how that look was arrived...<br />
<br />
I fucked around with the settings, until I was was happy with the results. In a nutshell, until the photograph resembled what my eye actually saw.<br />
<br />
Soon, probably a little bit later this week, if not today, details of this "showing" will be revealed by the gallery owner. With that said, I shall let him do his work.<br />
<br />
At the very least, my hope is that these pictures will help to color my world for the eyes of others.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-69585944787000370542020-02-15T03:41:00.000-05:002020-02-15T03:41:33.536-05:00AS OF LATELife really sucks...<br />
<br />
Things have really gone downhill in many respects. Using is on the increase for me. The type of drugs I've been tinkering with have seriously gotten stronger as well.<br />
<br />
Finances are sketchy and additional credit has not been helpful in any respect. Well it has allowed me to use more drugs.<br />
<br />
<br />
Overdoses have been way too frequent. Friends have been avoiding me and I really can't blame them.<br />
Who wants to get too close to someone who may be gone tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Psychotic episodes have been increasing. Bizzare behavior has become a constant. Depression is on the upswing and isolating, while aided by my behavior, has been a practice of choice.<br />
<br />
Winter is a season I dread and this one has been one of the worst. A fire only adds to the PTSD that is part and parcel of my life. I've been told that choices must be made.<br />
<br />
The thing is though, I'm not sure I have that ability any longer. Asking for help is admitting defeat.<br />
<br />
Besides, I'm not sure I really know how to ask for help.<br />
<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-66512914402936751112019-12-11T00:56:00.000-05:002019-12-11T00:56:57.291-05:00A mixed bag of eventsAnd these events have been both positive and negative. A few may have even been neutral in their end results.<br />
<br />
One positive event was that the Credit Gods smiling on me for a little while. The simple fact is that I will shortly have a new, reconditioned laptop computer. Not only would it make my continued writing to this blog a bit more comfortable. <br />
<br />
Doing this shit on a phone, while not impossible, is a bit more challenging than I am willing to engage in...<br />
<br />
On the negative side, I again have been schooled on how trusting people, especially people who have an addiction.<br />
<br />
To be completely honest, the substance or behavior that is the root of their addiction matters little. The possible exception are the junkies. They love and hate being referred to in that way, as a badge of honor it has its merits. As a slur, issued by non-junkies, it is used as a bludgeon on those misguided souls.<br />
<br />
I could elaborate on some of the other addicts not to be trusted. But to do so may possibly increase their urges. In particular those who are under the spell of some interestingly delicious behavioral passions.<br />
<br />
Oh!<br />
When they sing about food in some of those old blues tunes, they weren't singing about food...<br />
<br />
Speaking of food, I shop for groceries with the mission of having to feed one person. So it may look like there is an abundance of supplies at check time, with a few folks thinking that their ill gotten acquiersitions would never be missed, it doesn't take long for the fridge to be bare.<br />
<br />
Anther item that seems to be popular with my light fingered friends are phone chargers.<br />
<br />
Then we have the fashion plates who steal eaach other's clothes. I could go on, but the fact is that this episode is being written on a phone.<br />
<br />
That should change by the end of the week. Which is a positive, that is wrapping a negative that is surrounding a positive, etc., etc, etc...<br />
<br />
Sounding like Ul Brenner in The King And I.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-15918425110642792652019-11-18T13:28:00.000-05:002019-11-18T13:28:16.817-05:00No, I don't want to die!And I ain't dead yet...<br />
<br />
With no plans of going that way and swearing that some lines in the sand would not be crossed, here we are. Twice now I have turned colors, stopped breathing and had CPR performed on me. Once I had to be loaded onto ambulance and taken to an ER to be monitored. Coercion of ones or another was included in the last procedure.<br />
<br />
Coercion, in the choices given me were to ride in an ambulance or in the back of a cop car.<br />
<br />
The circumstances leading to the last OD event were the result of me trying to be a good guy. A deal gone bad and my trying to maintain my reputation as a mostly good guy in a world of not so good guy. Added to that is being done dirty by a drug dealing thug who possessed no moral scrupples.<br />
<br />
Excuse me for a second while remind myself if this fact in my world. "Good guys finish last."<br />
<br />
So in an effort to get myself in the right light, as well as getting a bit for me. A second small business entrepreneur was contacted and orders were placed. Samples were given and and products were judged in regards to quality. A tester was passed to me of the heroin that was to be distributed.<br />
<br />
Well, never ever believe that one cannot overdose when snorting that drug.<br />
<br />
A small piece of paper, folded to hold a bit of the drug was handed to me. The amount seemed pretty insignificant. A small pile of greyish white powder poured out onto my desk.<br />
<br />
Hmmm...<br />
<br />
<br />
I rolled a PostIt note into a tube and stuck one end up my nose. My left nostril to be exact. Sticking my finger over the right side of my nose, I inhaled sharply. The powdered drug shot into my nasel cavity.<br />
<br />
I'm good, I thought...<br />
<br />
About five minutes later things began to get exciting. Not so much for me, but for the people around me. Actually some if them ran out of the house. And some sort of thought I was worth saving. This came from a most unexpected person .<br />
<br />
I mean, she did think that I set her up.<br />
<br />
But she started giving me CPR. I had physical proof. The bruise on my chest was a mildly painful reminder of my brush with that black caped crusader. This was supported by the testimony of a neighbor.<br />
<br />
He really didn't want to be there either .<br />
<br />
I could continue, but I won't. The ensuring adventure wasn't all that exciting, and the results are obvious. That is why I can repeat...<br />
<br />
I ain't dead yet...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-81358016955490234642019-11-12T03:07:00.001-05:002019-11-12T03:07:41.469-05:00I really need a real computer Having been without a real computer for too long has had a negative effect.<br />
<br />
Not feeling comfortable with trying to write this on a phone had kept me away during a particularly unstable period of my life. This has left me feeling vulnerable. While there have been long absences, I thought that not being here wouldn't be a problem for me, and not for my few readers.<br />
<br />
That was the lie I fed myself. That neglect had a very negative influence on me and others. On others because of how my treatment of others was dangerously close to being selfish. I was using a new, to me street drug rthat made me feel superior to those around me.<br />
<br />
It also permitted others to use me like some type of tool.<br />
<br />
So,stumbling with fat fingers over a tiny keyboard, I struggle to make myself heard. Not just to you either...<br />
<br />
But to myself.<br />
<br />
Not writing these feelings and thoughts out loud has made me dead and blind to the danger swimming around me.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-14702376979112976092019-10-11T16:12:00.001-04:002019-10-11T16:12:47.488-04:00Double visionAll this is the work of a twisted mind and that is my thoughts on that.<br />
<br />
Now, I didn't specify which mind was involved, but rest assured, the redo was a doozy. It was kind of mentioned that way as well. I can only wonder at the motivation, but crackheads are not the most likeable people in the world.<br />
<br />
I guess the same could be made for all addicts. Should I, more correctly, those who engage in activities not that do create something out of the ordinary. One could say that serial killers where, well, addicts.<br />
<br />
The past few weeks have been interesting in a off kilter kind of way. Things not adding up and other thing falling too perfectly into place. Yeah, as case could be made for my being labeled a little bit out there. I have been out there and this is different in a boring mundane sort of way.<br />
<br />
Wait...<br />
Some of that shit was in no way boring, and some could be labeled down right amusing.<br />
<br />
Things went sideways. Yeah, sideways works wonderfully to describe the events starting with that damned birthday party. I decided that since birthdays were in a limited quantity for me, thyat every one should be celebrated with...<br /><br />
Gusto.<br />
<br />
The past birthday celebration was full of that and other things. Bullshit was in copious quantities. So was enthusiasm, lack of enthusiasm, excessive use of drugs and/or alcohol by most everyone in the planning and set up phase. Cleaning was the prime objective to make my little hovel passable for people who didn't look too closely.<br />
<br />
It should also be noted that most of that was piled onto the shoulders of two women that I simultaneously have crushes on. I think Simultaneously works in this case. There is one who seems to be avoiding any suggestion of such and another who could care less and acts unaware.<br />
<br />
Unaware is a condition that most people have in my presence. That works out well when you're not being paid too much attention to, as you can observe without too much interference. It does not work out well when it is used as a minor irritant with someone whose knickers you are trying to get into.<br />
<br />
But that's another story for another time.<br />
<br />
Need less to say, we were to get together sometime around 2 PM the day of the party. I was given a sleep aid to combat the effects of the recreational substances I had ingested. Needless to say, I was asleep until 6PM the night of the party. It should also be noted that a plea for some adults did prove to be sensible in making sure this thing worked out as not planned.<br />
<br />
It should be pointed out that I am making a list of possible party planners to use, and another list of party planners not to use. Oddly enough the names on each of these lists are almost identical.<br />
<br />
As the evening progressed, my little experiment in social science showed all the possible flaws such a thing could possibly possess. Everything from a wannabe skinhead nazi to the most sexist feminists on the face of the earth managed to make a mark on the evening. One friend feigning anger cleared most of the nearly normal people out at a reasonable after the start of the evening.<br />
<br />
This was also the guy who invited the skinhead. There us also certain amount of irony in that as well.<br />
<br />
Some people left earlier than I had hoped, others stayed way too long. I think I hit the hay at around 6 AM. No one could have predicted the way it all turned out and that is exactly the kind of event that tickles me the most, Especially if it's someone else's affair.<br />
<br />
The following day was a combination of depression, paranoia and other unspeakable imaginings.<br />
<br />
With the efforts of two friends, and some adventures of sorts my place is in the best shape it's been in since I arrived from the City Mission. That makes for a happy ending that so may crave.<br />
<br />
The thing is that this story ain't over yet...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-15782026835722444992019-09-24T09:47:00.000-04:002019-09-24T09:47:09.039-04:00Then again, it may be me.Getting weird, I mean.<br />
<br />
It is probably wrong to blame all of my thinking on the rewiring my brain is experiencing. It may be my occasional loneliness. It may be my smooth words with strangers that are encountered on the different social networks to which I belong.<br />
<br />
But what bothers me is my lack of... I am not sure of what, but freezing up when I do encounter a real living breathing person makes me feel weird and foolish. with everything considered of course, my age and condition do mot make for great relationship stuff. Physically I have limitations in certain areas.<br />
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We were having a conversation about when and where to do acid. One of the group thought we should be in tents, in the woods. I kind of thought, well I guess calling when they are peaking from the comfort of not the tent would have allowed me tp live a bit vicariously.<br />
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But the problem of getting me there was resolved.<br />
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I will have to admit that sex might not be as intense or a pleasurable with me. On the other hand, I of the school all sex is good sex, might get the fuck of his life. Well, that is a high bar, but to have a session of emotionally involved love making is something that has been lacking for me for a very long time. I do crave something beyond good technique and mechanics. The GFE from a top shelf hooker can't equal that experience.<br />
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Of course that is the stuff of ackward breakups in some cases.<br />
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And this is why I am talking about this on the is blog. I f any of you have read the entire blog, you are aware of the fact that being alone for the most part has been my life. There have been no major complaints on my part for the most part. I don't get tangled up in this sort of thing too often. And it may have happened at some point awhile ago, that has not been as stressful to me as the brief encounters I have experienced in recent history.<br />
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The have been other instances where I have had contact with the opposite sex. But those have been ..tranactional. Hey, I'm old and ugly, but I am fun to be with. I just wish I were more than just fun. But when you get right down to it, there couldn't possibly be a better way to check out.<br />
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Hey, I've been doing this in one form or another for ..shit over 30 years and I am still alive. A point I proudly make whenever some sweet young thing looks at me with a certain amount of revulsion. The is this and really not much more.<br />
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I ain't dead yet.<br />
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<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-68131340642926684692019-09-17T00:36:00.000-04:002019-09-17T00:36:14.411-04:00It is getting weird out thereI really hadn't thought that much about the switch from hard to ice.<br />
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Hard is crack and ice is the crystal meth stuff that seems to be gaining popularity in this and probably other cities across the country. It is to a degree, cheaper, lasts longer and is a easier climb to peaking. Crack is brutally quick in delivering a rush that at times takes one's breath away.<br /><br />Crack can make your ears ring. That is your blood pressure going through the roof.<br />
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I tried ice myself. No, that's not exactly correct, as I have dived into this form of stimulant drug. An upper, not a downer or sleepy or whatever other terms that may be floating around out here.It is according to the 'experts,' not like the bikers crank that I tried for the first time when visiting my friend who moved to California. The stuff I huffed up my nose in the home of a part time dealer/user was incredibly painful on your sinuses. You need a hammer to start breaking it up this crap. Then a hard object is used to crush it slowly into fine enough powder that could be absorbed by the blood vessels in the sinus cavities.<br />
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It should be noted that I am describing my experience from an extremely non-medical or scientific point of view. This is purely anecdotal from my perspective, which admittedly is skewed at times.<br />
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At that time, I was not aware that anyone was melting it to inject, nor was I aware of any other means to get that mix of industrial cleaners into your blood stream. Back in those days, I would have doubted that one of those various groups of scooter bums would have been talking about the benefit of shooting it up their ass. Boofing of ice seems to be favored over injecting by some users today.<br />
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It is more forgiving in that a hammer is't required as the starting point to make it ingest-able.<br />
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But the point of this post was to put a spot light on how many ice users are ex-crack heads who seem to be hanging onto smoking rocks while dabbling with the ice.I have seen, and actually have done this myself. I'll have a bubble pipe sitting next to a straight stem which is next to a joint or weed pipe.<br />
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This combination may not be all that healthy. We also add alcohol, which might very well make the whole thing a mess. A very dangerous, toxic mess that might be the combinations that have claimed too many already. There you go, as I almost forgot the heroin some use to get a higher high. That and all the other party favors our kind of special escape artist gulp or inhale into our bodies has to some degree altered our perceptions of ethics and morality.<br />
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A few readers don't care for weed, because they have had uncomfortable experiences with pot. I've heard the stories about how some people get downright scared or suspicious of everyone and everything. Then we add cocaine to that mix. I know more than a few who have geeked after a few hits of that powerful drug.<br />
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Now, ice does not seem to create that level of unfounded fear as quickly as the crack. Here's the thing hat bothers me. While not creating, at least early on a complete distrust of the those who are closest around us, it does happen. Occasionally quickly enough to be recognized as some type of mild psychosis.<br />
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These are the things that are rattling around inside of my mind, and most assuredly the noodles of a few around me. I am not judging, but I am observing this phenomenon slowly capturing some of the people that I and others have grown to trust. This does scare me to no end and it has been mentioned to friends, both old and new.<br />
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Having been awake for much longer than is healthy, I think some sleep and another look over this is in order. Part of the reason for this is that I had started typing some dialog that had come off of the TV<br />
<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-20676825354660307002019-09-08T19:23:00.000-04:002019-09-08T19:23:27.998-04:00**TRIGGER WARNING**A friend told me that they would no longer read this blog.<br /><br />I was a bit surprised and wondered why they felt the need to stop. I also was a bit disappointed, because this person had been a good source of feedback on what had been written. When pressed a bit further, they said that the things I had been talking about, primarily here, but occasionally in real life had set off cravings. Cravings can do strange things to folks like me, especially if they have been not using for a period of time.<br /><br />Some people go for rides through the wrong neighborhoods. Some search for old phone numbers. Others had those numbers tucked away for use on a rainy day. In other words they were being triggered to use. <div>
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Being the supplier of that rainy day doesn't sit well with me.<br /><br />Until recently, there were no warnings here about what my words might set off in those who read this mess. One must consider that a blog about drugs, written by a drug user might well have an adverse effect on an abstinent user. Some people come here for, what's the word...<br /><br />Oh yeah, the <b><i>vicarious</i></b> thrill of reading about the miserable part of this often shitty existence.<div>
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Like I had mentioned in an earlier entry, the drug of choice is shifting in the general Erie area. Heroin is doing well and is basically available from anyone who deals. The expenses, up here for the price of crack is indeed help fuel the ice success. Most dealers are shifting around in how products are placed in availability. In regards to black market weed, those bastards are making a killing. The legal dispensary prices and the MMJ community has done little to ease the pain of high prices for that medicine.<br /><br />The above statement is my opinion and should have no bearing on...</div>
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Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-35422493343088306242019-09-05T22:41:00.003-04:002019-09-05T22:41:31.869-04:00Well, it is funny who shows up at my doorIt occasionally verges on the edge of hilarious.<br />
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What does seem to be happening though, and I am going to blame the drugs, is that the wiring in my noggin may be getting scrambled. I have been acting in a fashion that does not suit me. Being dependent on another to fill my emotional needs is a dangerous place to go. with that said, I enjoy company and will do what I can to encourage people to return when they feel the urge. I don't encourage everyone to return, but there are a few whose appearance makes me smile. It's not often that you find someone who can fill hours of time with interesting conversation.<br />
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Sadly, it seems the urge some have is not for my company but for what type of recreational substances I may have on hand. That isn't said in a way of condemnation of those people, but a reflection of the way I decide where or who I will hang out with at some times. Additionally, the weather is starting to get chilly. People are calling or texting, looking for a place to stay until the weather gets better or the overflow shelters open.<br />
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It will be some time before those shelters open again.<br />
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The thing is that, as the old cliche goes, never let a good deed go unpunished. Way too often I have offered my couch to someone in a jam, only to find something I treasured has disappeared or my secret stash was found. Another test on my hospitality is when someone shows, dragging along another creature that is completely foreign to me. For all I know, they may be serious serial killers.<br />
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This happens more often than I would care to admit.<br />
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So I am sitting here, at this very moment, wondering about one of the night creatures, who says they are cold with no place to sleep. And even if there is some sort of compensation for shelter, which often there isn't, will I be able to sleep. I have tried to sleep on more than just one night, feeling the need to keep one eye open.<br /><br />And people wonder why I'm anxious.<br />
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<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-90699466202024713502019-09-02T16:36:00.003-04:002019-09-02T16:36:59.528-04:002019 has not been kind to me.This year started with a dreadful, snowy winter.<br /><br />Erie is noted for the amount of snow that falls here during the winter season. Golden Snow Globes are often awarded to my hometown. That is the prize awarded to the city with a population of 100,000 or greater. Some people seem to get giddy about that sort of thing, but I have grown tired of the downside to that amount of frozen precipitation.<br />
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While we didn't win the award, we certainly got enough to keep me inside and pretty much isolated from much of the living, breathing real people that I associate with on a semi-regular basis. Depression and the loneliness of that season does take its toll. Some things, like the amount of drugs used to ease the boredom or break me out of a funk, does seem to increase .<br /><br />The downside to that is sacrificing healthy and social activities that most healthy folks use to keep themselves...<br />Would it be correct to say that they are sane?<br />
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Then a rude surprise was placed at my feet at the end of May. The mother of my children, and a friend of mine for over 50 years suddenly passed away. She hopefully, passed peacefully in her sleep. It certain was a shock in that her, as well as many of my acquaintances expected I would be the first to check out.<br /><br />There is a certain amount of karma or perhaps irony in the way she passed.<br />
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It was agreed that I would be the first and that some arrangement would be made for a respectful funeral and such would be taken care of...<br />
<br />Not going to happen now and I guess my remains may well end up in the pauper's cemetery. Oddly enough that cemetery is pretty close to the house I built a long time ago out in the burbs. That doesn't really matter but the hurt from her passing was exacerbated by the attitude of my children. They have pretty much erased me from their mother's and their existence. <br /><br />When I came to the viewing at the funeral home, I was encouraged to pay my respects to my former wife and friend, and leave in short order. While never said directly, I was encouraged through my sister and by other actions, to not attend the funeral service the following day.<br />
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That was a further salted by my son telling me that I was not allowed to visit the home and house I built. I was also told there would be no opportunity to retrieve any sort of memento of that friendship from the home.<br />
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No visit, no nothing...<br />
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As the summer passed, I found myself increasing my intake of drugs of all sorts. From my comfort substance, crack to crystal meth and even dabbling a bit with heroin. Not to lessen the effect on my that the combinations may have had on my physically, I also played with injecting both the meth and the skagg.<br /><br />I have good veins and may have damaged my body to a certain degree by coming close to an abscess. My hand and arm blew up, swollen from improperly trying to hit a vein and missing. And yes, that shit, the meth does burn like a motherfucker when you do miss.<br />
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In other news, in a few futile attempts to ease my loneliness, I have tried through various means to attract some female companionship. It also seems that my lack of practice, or perhaps my total inexperience, has resulted in some dreadfully clumsy mistakes. Apparently there were those who did think that activity was inappropriate. I haven't unraveled that yet, but wonder why a person I have grown to trust and believed looked at me without judging had turned 180 degrees. Maybe I threatened something that made him feel somewhat superior. We are both anarchistic in our own charming ways, and that could be the root of it all. It might also be that...<br /><br />Fuck if I know, but that will be a topic for further exploration down the road somewhere. The troubling part is that I thought that there were a very few people out there who did not consider me to be disposable.<br /><br />Maybe it is the meth. As told to me a long time ago, this fellow told me that cocaine allowed him to walk through walls, but meth allowed him to walk through people.<br /><br />More on that as I sort out the depressing mess that I probably created.<br />
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<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-35032172071742485342016-01-04T18:43:00.000-05:002016-01-04T18:43:02.074-05:00A New YearIt would be nice to say that things have changed significantly since last posting to this blog. Sadly, that really hasn't been the case. <br />
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While there is still a roof over my head, the neighborhood hasn't improved much. The cigarette mooching neighbor has been replaced by an opiate junkie. A suboxone junkie at that with a taste for crack no less.<br />
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Much like my previous neighbor, there is a lot of traffic in and out of the next door apartment. Usually late at night and well into the morning. Often the visitors are also banging on my door or doorbell, as they are desperate to get in for reasons I kind of understand.<br />
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In regards to my own bad habits, well the dudes are still running fast and loose with credit. That is cause for concern when my mind starts thinking of ways to play their systems, my system and the system. Sooner or later, the brakes will have to be applied or homelessness is a real possibility.<br />
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That's all that can be said for the moment. Part of my lack of posting has been an unwillingness on my part to be completely honest with myself. Writing here has revealed more of me than I feel comfortable with at times.<br />
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On the other hand, when I was posting regularly, my attitudes and outlooks were somewhat more stable.<br />
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We shall see how this plays out.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-71582599510483686252015-01-15T22:12:00.001-05:002015-01-15T22:12:52.782-05:00Well, I'm still alive...It has been quite awhile since my last post. There may possibly have been a few who wondered where I've been all this while. As it turn out, right here and not much further.<br />
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Some may have even mistakenly believed that life was normal and sober and I have not hitting a pipe any longer. Whatever your views on that may be, that certainly has not been the case. One person did ask once, after a particularly weird remark on my part, if I had relapsed.<br /><br />My reply was "No."<br />
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I felt justified in giving that answer for one reason. One must have had a period of "sobriety" or "recovery" or whatever the term one might use for not using. Having not had experienced any of those statuses, saying I had not relapsed was, for me, the truth.<br />
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Now that we have that cleared up, this is what has been happening over the past few months.<br />
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First and foremost in my mind is the fact that law enforcement has been a too frequent visitor to this building. Once in fact, knocking at my back door with a warrant. Not for me, thankfully, but a neighbor who lives in one of the front apartments. Apparently this persons entrepreneurial efforts are not approved of in Erie. I'm also guessing that a hearing was blown off, which resulted in deputies from the sheriff's office to mistakenly knock on my door.<br />
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Another incident a few days before Christmas still has me a bit more concerned.<br />
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My next door neighbor seemed to be allowing someone to use their apartment. My guess is they exchanged the use of their place to acquire a bit of rock or some other thing of value in exchange for use of the place. There are also strong suspicions on my part that the person renting the apartment was using it as their own little sales office.<br />
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The noise and traffic there were not near normal for with the tenant whose name is on the lease.<br />
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Things came to a head one fine morning. Loud knocks on the front door, with my neighbor running out the front shouting was followed by angry voices associated with police making a bust of some sort. Phrases like, "Don't move" and "Keep your hands where I can see them" are enough for anyone within earshot to pay attention.<br />
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A few days later I was told that my neighbor's temporary tenant had pointed a gun at a visitors head. Adding that to what might have happened had this fellow not complied with the cops had me pretty unsettled for awhile. Considering the thinness of the walls and the possible things that could have gone wrong, everything was resolved without any physical harm to anyone, including myself. <br />
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There was a short period of time that my buying a pistol was briefly considered. That would be a mistake for me though in so may ways.<br />
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Lastly, the dudes are running fast and loose with credit. With things happening this year, more for other people rather than myself, some tempering has to be done. Being constantly geeked and hopelessly broke financially will not allow me to enjoy some things.<br />
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And that is a fact, Jack.<br />
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<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-46111358061084203292014-09-25T21:34:00.001-04:002014-09-25T21:34:27.870-04:00A bit of a peek into what Crackhead life is like...I haven't been posting much lately, but this documentary needed to be seen by this blogs followers:<br /><br />http://www.snagfilms.com/films/title/high_on_crack_street_lost_lives_in_lowell<br />
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Watch and learn.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-84410661173454046582014-05-03T02:27:00.001-04:002014-05-03T02:27:39.677-04:00Every Crack head is...Out of control.<br />
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Maybe.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-38396945456473694222014-01-25T12:29:00.000-05:002014-01-25T12:29:15.494-05:00Gaps<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, there have been huge gaps between posts made in this blog.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When first started the posts were fairly frequent. Things that were happening to me and others around me provided a steady source of material to inform the world about. Things that 'normal' people never thought about in their day to day lives. Things that were also commonplace for the lost people like myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few things of interest have occured since posting here...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In a past entry, Crack Kills, the guy who smacked his dealer in the head with a baseball bat was convicted. After pleading guilty to a general charge of murder, the charge ended up being first degree murder. That meant that Bobbie had to do some advance planning. For the life of me, this has me mystified, as he was at the best of times a couple of sammiches short of a picnic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Crackheads being what they are though, this statement isn't surprising: </span><br /><b>"<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the night of the killing, Page took a $500 payment from Quick to settle a crack cocaine debt. That all but depleted the paycheck Quick had received that day, Daneri said. He said the prosecution believes Page might have "rubbed that in," triggering Quick's admitted short temper."</span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It should also be mentioned that the victims family member said, on the deceased crack dealers behalf, "He was a family man who never did anything wrong." </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Well almost never did anything wrong and Bobbie Quick will probably spend the rest of his days in prison.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Meanwhile, it is winter in Erie. Homeless overflow shelters are full. Funding and volunteers are needed to help those afflicted, often by no fault of their own, without a roof over their heads. While one one has been found frozen to death behind a dumpster or a bus stop yet, it still is 53 days until spring.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In times like these any little thing can help.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Meanwhile, being a little more diligent in posting to this blog on my part will be a New Year resolution.<br /><br />Shrugs...It could happen.</span></span><br />
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<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-50104641587282644712013-10-23T11:21:00.002-04:002013-10-23T11:21:47.039-04:00I have a dream.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 28.528528213500977px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<b style="line-height: 28.528528213500977px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"I’m homeless, and I’m an alcoholic. But I have a dream."</span></b></div>
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<b>"What's that?"</b></div>
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<b>"I want to go fishing."</b></div>
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Stumbled onto this pic on Tumblr. The dialog has been copy/pasted from the site as well.<br />
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Needless to say, this kicked me right in the gut. While not homeless and not alcoholic, some things have been put out of reach. Simple things that in the past have given much joy and pleasure. Many things that most of us don't give a second thought to doing, other than budgeting a bit of time.<br />
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Not to denigrate or stigmatize alcoholics, I'd rather be what I am and that...<br />
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It wanting for those types of things never hits at the right time though. The planning, even minimal thoughts as to what needs to be set aside are set aside by that beast that indeed lives inside of me. There are priorities, you know. A friend once said that I know the consequences of my behavior and take it in stride.<br />
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While that may be true, there are times that the things that are missing hit me right in the face. The desire to enjoy a pastime so cherished in the past comes to haunt me in all sorts of different ways. To have the right equipment and licenses to enjoy this simple activity are bit beyond my reach at the moment.<br />
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To say that fishing is the only thing being set aside would be a lie. For some reason though it is one of the things that has been put away. Doing without is one thing that has been mastered. Self sacrifice for all the wrong reasons has been a way of life for awhile now<br />
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There are other appetites that need to be fed.Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4971054489052345151.post-59633591919251495582013-10-01T14:54:00.002-04:002013-10-01T16:23:29.693-04:00Not sure how to feel about this...<br />
Many people might feel a cold tingling down their spine at the prospects this might present in their life. Some might make nothing or little about this situation. The thing is that there have been movies made and real life murders committed regarding this type of stuff.<br />
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The knowledge that there was a large life insurance policy in my name has always existed.<br />
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The policy was initially bought to cover business loans in the event of my untimely demise. The business had owned the policy. I had thought that once my presence from that business was terminated, the policy and the need for it would terminate as well.<br />
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I discovered awhile ago that the policy was still in effect.<br />
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Now, we all know that large corporations do indeed take out life insurance policies on the lives of key employees. Sometimes not so key employees, but it is a practice in our business world. The initial idea was to cover the costs of training and possible income loss caused by the passing of a valuable member of the team.<br />
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In the cold, cold world of make money, make mo' money, that is no longer the case.<br />
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It is now the practice of many of these large corporations to continue paying on those policies. It's an investment. A small risk gambling that actuarial tables are on their side. A way to maximize the bottom line by doing nothing more than making token payments with the hopes that the person named in that policy shit the bed earlier than expected.<br />
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That's business for you...<br />
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There a little twist to this tale though. A twist that has me questioning motives and what is powering the kindness extended to me by others, well one, who has expressed deep loathing and hate for me in the past. A person who has been on one hand helpful on the other has been divisive and coldly calculating.<br />
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It appears that this person has acquired ownership of that policy.<br />
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Much water has passed under the bridge. Situations that could have put this in an all different light have disappeared long ago, along with all the cash puffed up by myself. There was a time all the financial woes and other perceived wrongs committed by me could have literally and figuratively been paid off.<br />
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I didn't do that and instead struck off in a different direction.<br />
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Part of it was mainly was the result of the feeling that remained after getting fucked in the ass with a Carborundum Condom. Details of this are not included, but just lets say instead of getting the shitty end of the stick, all I got was the shit. The other part was being treated as much less than in a venture built from almost nothing but my hands and imagination. Everybody knows that's exactly the way a crack head should be treated.<br />
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So I subscribed to the "Fuck me once, shame on you..."<br />
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Getting back to what has me feeling uncertain today, this past weekend, a day after my birthday no less, a balloon was floated by this person. They mentioned that they were considering selling the policy off. While the selling price is at a deep discount on the face value, it would be sufficient to get this person right financially and toddle off to a pleasant retirement.<br />
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Imagine my surprise that investment groups now have been set up that will buy these life insurance policies. Death pools, with a handsome payoff once the insured schmuck kicks the bucket. The only thing required of me is signing off on this and allowing the investment group to peek at my medical information.<br />
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Then the statement was made, "You would probably make a fuss." I never knew a fuss could be made until they mentioned that little fact.<br />
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Heh...<br />
I had better watch my step.<br />
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<br />Erie Crackheadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02232433685833451986noreply@blogger.com3