A Crackhead in Erie

A New Year

2012-01-01T16:52:00.004-05:00

The past year wasn't my greatest by any stretch of the imagination. It can also be said that last year certainly hasn't been my worst for that matter as well. I do know there hasn't been a great year for me in perhaps twenty years or more.

That's how long I've been hitting the pipe, so that speaks for itself.

My worst year may have been ten years ago, or was it three years ago? That matters little at this point in time because I survived it all and am here to tell the story for those with the endurance or interest to put up with listening to the tale.

As mentioned to a friend though, life is still an adventure to me. Sometimes you have to endure things you don't like, but that's part of the price for this E ticket ride. And how else can you describe something that has wild twists and turns, breath taking ups as well as downs. There are sudden stops and whip-lash starts as well as thrills and chills.

There are also parts that are peaceful and I can even say full of joy.

Last year had a bit of all of those factors. Friends were made and some were lost. Some just moved a bit away but certainly are not gone. Places were visited I have never been to before and hope to see again. People were met face to face and others who I have yet to have that pleasure. Some of those people are even considered to be friends. Real friends who can share without fear of judgement or fear of one's stuff being the source of gossip.

You really can't ask for much more than that and that really is the way it should be.

Things, while not holding the same importance to me as they have in the past, have been accumulated and little has been lost. Then again there really isn't all that much to lose.

And that's more than OK.

Finances aren't all that great, but they have been worse. But important things are paid for and real obligations are met. Nothing really gets saved, but I do have a taste for expensive recreational drugs. That shit ain't cheap, you know.

Yeah, I'm smirking too...

Sorta'.

So today is the first of a New Year. I am still on the ride and despite the good and the bad of it, I'm not getting off of it this year. Well, at least if I have anything to say about that fact. While there may be those who disagree, I still am of the conviction that some choices are not all ours to make in this life.

There still too much to see, hear, taste, feel, learn and experience.

And yes, it's still an adventure.

My friend Don

2011-12-09T17:35:00.004-05:00

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.

Did you ever...

2011-10-29T13:23:00.003-04:00

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!---> :-) <---

Yep, that's the question...

2011-10-21T21:20:00.004-04:00

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.

And then there were two

2011-10-12T22:18:00.004-04:00

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.

Really...

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.

I'm getting restless.

2011-10-06T11:13:00.003-04:00

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.

The last day.

2011-09-26T13:31:00.003-04:00

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.

A little help from my friends.

2011-09-20T19:04:00.005-04:00

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.

How you doin'?

2011-09-14T09:09:00.002-04:00

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'?

An extraordinarily unextraordinary week

2011-09-12T14:47:00.003-04:00

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.

Maybe.

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...

Internutz and real life....

2011-09-05T22:24:00.006-04:00

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 me...safe?

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.

I really do hate...

2011-08-29T09:54:00.002-04:00

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.

But not all bad.

2011-08-22T21:51:00.003-04:00

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.

Really.

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 days...no, 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 have...tools.

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.

Getting uncomfortable

2011-08-16T19:17:00.002-04:00

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.

Again.

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.

I did take my own advice...

2011-08-09T10:00:00.003-04:00

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.

MMMMM!

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...

Out of focus and out of touch.

2011-07-31T12:32:00.004-04:00

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?

How hot is it?

2011-07-22T15:19:00.004-04:00

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.

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

2011-07-17T22:44:00.006-04:00

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.

Moo and other people

2011-07-10T14:37:00.002-04:00

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.

And a cat named Moo.

2011-07-03T10:40:00.002-04:00

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

Offended?

Tough.

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.

Sorta'.

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.

How can you tell when a Crackhead is lying?

2011-06-28T20:58:00.003-04:00

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.

A mixed bag of miscellaneous bullshit.

2011-06-20T10:37:00.002-04:00

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?

The Good, the Bad and the Snarky

2011-06-13T13:42:00.003-04:00

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.

I am not the only one out here.

2011-06-06T23:34:00.003-04:00

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.)

No cat..

2011-05-29T12:40:00.004-04:00

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.

And then a week.

2011-05-22T12:50:00.002-04:00

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.

Hey!
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.

A few hours then a week...

2011-05-14T11:51:00.002-04:00

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.

I'm not sure what to say.

2011-05-06T13:47:00.003-04:00

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.

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

This may not be all bad.

2011-05-02T13:17:00.005-04:00

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.

Since February 28th

2011-04-25T13:01:00.002-04:00

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...

Can a Crackhead be trusted?

2011-04-20T09:29:00.002-04:00

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."

A Crackhead in Erie

2011-02-28T08:15:00.003-05:00

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:

How readers have gotten to this blog.

2011-02-27T13:30:00.005-05:00

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 ErieBlogs.com and GoErie.com. 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.

Early morning September 8, 2010

2011-02-25T14:14:00.002-05:00

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?)

Anyway...

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.

BYE!

Right,, wrong or otherwise...

2011-02-24T10:58:00.004-05:00

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...

A Circus or a Sideshow

2011-02-21T03:19:00.003-05:00

Effective March 1, 2011 this blog will be taken off line.

It has become apparent to me that it may be in some ways causing more harm than good. There are issues of guilt by association regarding some people who know or knew me being affected by what I pour out on this.

My original intention was to write about what life was for a crackhead who also happened to live in Erie, PA. In some respects I feel I have painted a picture that sufficiently lets the world know what a miserable condition this is to endure.

I also wrote it as a guidepost for myself in what progress I've made toward abstinence. In all honesty, I haven't done too well in that regard. I also have to re-examine my "Harm Reduction Plan." In some cases that may well be in need of serious tightening up. In particular to harm I may have done to others.

I also fear that too many people are aware of who I am and some other characters, while unnamed are also known by some. Hurting people was not my intent. I fear I may have done just that...

I will continue writing, but it will not be available to the general public. I really need to find out what my real goals are if any and how I might attain those goals.

I just feel that there are too many who are reading for entertainment value or trying to live or relive a junkie life vicariously through this blog.

That's fucked up.

Until March 1st, those who have a real interest, for what ever reason are welcome to get what they need. After that it may be opened to those who have a sincere interest in what this is all about. Maybe it will help someone. I had thought was the case at one time and now I am no longer sure of that fact.

This is no soap opera either...

I learned this awhile ago.

2011-02-19T17:11:00.003-05:00

When one finds themselves in a situation that makes them uncomfortable this technique works rather well. It's not particularly easy to do, but with practice and staying focused it will do the job. This is called DEAD. It's simple as hell and goes as follows:

Don't Defend, Explain, Argue or Deny.

If you do you're DEAD. You leave an opening for more bullshit or for a situation to deteriorate completely in a bad direction. It's not a negotiating ploy, it's an end game position.

I've used this with a great deal of success, if one wants to consider a way to get someone out of your life. It creates a clean break with whatever or whoever is causing grief or aggravation. This also may leave people with a bad feeling towards you for awhile, but time does fix that problem.

In most cases anyway.

While it may be embarrassing to admit this fact, I most likely am on the receiving end of this action. But you know what, in long run that may be the best thing for everyone involved. As a matter of fact I am doing what I can to facilitate this as well. Losing phone numbers, changing statuses and dropping "friends" on social networks. That will make it harder for me to exasperate a situation I have so many mixed feelings about.

The thing is that it really isn't all about me. There are things and people much more important involved. I'm a selfish bastard, but I'm not that selfish.

I'll go back to messing with people who have nothing more than I to lose or those that I couldn't give a rats ass about. It will also decrease the feeling of walking on eggshells as well.

For me anyway.

It's so nice to get out!

2011-02-17T14:05:00.002-05:00

So yeah, I'm at the library taping this out.

I did not rush right in here to sit in front of another damned computer right off the get go. I enjoyed the trip here. I stayed outside in front of the library just watching the people come and go. Kids on a bus from one of the charter schools are paying a visit. Moms with their little ones to pick up of return books and videos. I hope it's not just videos, but that's just me.

People on their lunch breaks, taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather. Women wearing a little less also didn't hurt my eyes either. Certainly not summer dresses, but you could tell they were women out of their over sized coats that usually are worn this time of the year.

The homeless and mentally ill were out and about as well. For some reason the break in the weather even seemed to put a smile on their faces. This is Erie after all and even the well off or well adjusted usually have a sour look on their faces this time of the year.

It is good to get outside and away from the blanks walls and depressing atmosphere I endure most of the time. There really is no one to blame but myself for the self imposed solitude. Well, I can blame the lousy weather generally in force this time of the year, but even that shouldn't be cause for staying in my hole as much as it seems.

My other bad habit is cause for that in part.

What other bad habit?

This is my other bad habit. Sitting in front of a computer, beating on the keys or clicking a mouse for this site or that one. Clicking on YouTube tunes that strike my fancy or songs I haven't heard in awhile. I tend not to listen to the radio other than to WQLN, so I am not entirely up to date on current trends in popular music.

Frankly most of what I hear today that's current sucks anyway.

Your mileage may vary.

But this has been a good attitude adjustment. With some crap that has been going on, mostly my doing, getting around people has been a tonic. Getting away from Don has been a biggy as well. He has hit the jackpot, so to speak and now is rarely coherent most of the time. He has been throwing money at me and a neighbor, who I think threw it back at him, but gift horses like this are not to be over looked by myself.

The neighbor returned the money, I think, as they do not want to be running a private delivery and taxi service for him. Who can blame them, as they have things of their own to worry about and certainly don't need the burden Don would provide. When it comes to doing the needy act, Don makes me look like a rank amateur

I did check on him on my way out the door. He wanted me to pick up something for him at the store. The weather is decent, he could stand and not fall and he needs to get out as well. He was told he could get his own damned chocolate milk. Trust me, my intention was not to be mean as he had thrown too much money at me last night.

I hope he doesn't hold that against me the next time I work him for a few bucks. Now to find a dude who'll answer his phone.

Time is running out here so the return trup awakes.

It's so nice to get out!

It is complicated.

2011-02-13T14:17:00.003-05:00

But Douglas Adams may have been right. Maybe the answer to life, the universe and everything is 42. That was the answer that the mythical computer Deep Thought spit out after an enormous amount of time pondering.

You do need be careful how you phrase questions when asking a computer, as they tend to be quite literal. Check that, the results are absolutely literal. Figurative responses at this point in time seems to be outside a machines capability and capacity. They are working on that, but it'll be awhile before the complexity of that function becomes part of the hardware and software.

Too many variables.

If Deep Thought had been a crackhead, the answer 42 would not have been forthcoming as it was in the book or the movie. Yes, I know that answer didn't come quickly, but I can imagine a constant demand from within Deep Thought along the lines of, "Processing functions will discontinue until another twenty dollars are deposited."

I am jealous of those who enjoy a simple life or at least a simpler appearing life. Not too long ago, my life was terribly uncomplicated and simple to a degree. Not a lot of possessions to worry about, which seem to complicate the lives of others. Not too many people to worry about, as I have by and large chased away, ran from or was abandoned by most people who have entered my life.

There are some exceptions, and that for the life of me has me mystified. Then again some of these people have looked a bit further than the crackhead, or knew me when I was an entirely different person. In many respects a button down collar Oxford shirt, navy blue V-neck sweater, khaki slacks kind of guy who liked vanilla ice cream. I'm very certain that guy will never return.

Crack wasn't part of the equation at one point in my life and I've stepped up to French Vanilla.

But since wandering off as I have, there have been people who have entered my life based solely on drugs. My drugs, their drugs, my cash or theirs. What I could give them and what they could give me. Playing off each other to get a buzz. Playing off each other to keep the buzz going. Playing off each other to get other things that may have been missing from our lives as well.

Crack has been a big reason some people have gotten close to me. Some have gotten too close. But the fact of the matter is if crack wasn't in the mix, many people who have wandered into and back out of my life over the past twenty years, wouldn't have given me a second thought.

Think about that little fact.

When there are differences that start with say age, outlooks, responsibilities, experiences, likes and dislikes, physical abilities or lack thereof one truly has to wonder about what the real attraction could be in a relationship. When the common denominator is a fucking drug, the outcome is predictable and not pretty. Take away the crack and the outcome might still be ugly.

I so wish I were wrong on that count.

Personal experiences, as well as anecdotal and empirical data all seem to bear that out to a great degree. And while there are some exceptions, they are few and far between. I know smokers from my past who contact between us has been maintained to a degree. We talk about things beyond when we have had our last hit or who's shit is better. For a little while anyway.

So life is complicated. But I can complicate the recipe for boiling water.

A reminder for those who think there is too much dwelling on all of this. I write this shit for me, you just get to peek at it and hopefully are not living it for yourselves. There is a process I have to put myself through from time to time, pounding it into my skull until it sticks.

So if you're getting bored, there are millions of other blogs that you may find more entertaining.

Yep, that works.

2011-02-11T19:16:00.006-05:00

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines a hypocrite as follows:

Definition of HYPOCRITE

1: a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion

2: a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings

Definition #2 will work just dandy for my purposes, as those who know me are also aware of a dynamic lack of virtue or religiosity on my part. But, boy am I a big time advocate for everyone in this world to not hit a rock.

For you, not me of course.

That's where the hypocrisy is for me. I'm big on that "Do as I say and not as I do" philosophy. For the life of me though, I can't understand why anyone would want to follow the same path as I have. Where I started in this and the people I knew from the past would rightfully want to avoid me at all costs.

Well, most people, as there are a few who are OK in accepting me for what I am.

I live in fairly Spartan conditions. No luxury suite by any stretch of the imagination. A few missteps from being on the streets without a home. Some safety nets have been installed, but those are my design. A mousetrap designed by a mouse is certainly going to have an escape hatch.

Witnessing my meltdowns, blow ups and freak outs online and in real life should also be enough to make someone say, that's fucked up. And it is largely from twenty years of screwing with my mental wiring that has caused me to certainly be irrational at times.

I read an article somewhere that ones inhibitions and morality could be altered by application of magnets to certain areas of the brain. I've been ingesting a chemical that has indeed placed magnets around my moral compass. In that regard, I go with what feels good and not necessarily what is the right thing to do in some situations.

While there are those who say, "What the hell, life is short and have fun," the thing is some of that fun sucks others in and may hurt innocents.

For the life of me, I can't understand why anyone who has read this blog, knows me personally and the conditions that I live or know what has been lost on every level would want to say, "I want to be just like Erie Crackhead when I grow up."

I do my damnedest to have a safe place for a few people. No one has been shot, stabbed, beaten or raped while in my company. Well, not beaten from a drug deal gone bad in a long time anyway. I also don't want any of the above to happen to myself as well.

I say that I'm "Mostly Harmless" and have been refereed to as a "Minor Threat." We all know that is bullshit now, as the harm is certainly not physical, but there are other risks that leave huge scars that don't show up for perhaps for years. Some of those scars may someday show up on those who have never set foot in my place.

So for now I'm a hypocrite, but I'll live with that for the moment.

Snap, crackle and POP!

2011-02-09T10:30:00.002-05:00

Some things are better left alone. Some things are better left in the past. Some things are best if stayed away from them entirely. Then the world is a much better place for everyone.

Trust me on that fact.

I have lived in this place for a bit over a year now. I've had a chance to meet some people I am OK with, some people I like and others I don't care for at all. All of them have to one degree or another brought out qualities in me that in part are good and other things that disturb me to no end.

Last summer and into the fall I was corresponding with someone who irritates me to no end. I no longer exchange emails with them because they were encouraging me to get out, go to the bars, to meet people, find a lover, to mix with society to some degree. I knew that shit was poison to me then and I even am more convinced of that fact now.

But a seed was planted and I thought it might be nice to test the waters.

Big mistake.

I was happy with people at an arms length. I would show you just enough to draw you in and then put up my wall. Being oh so charming, but a manipulative bastard is my craft and trade. Switches are flipped and buttons pushed without my even being aware of it myself. I would take what was needed from you and then shut you out before shit got out of hand.

It's starting to get out of hand. Well, for me anyways.

I have also engineered, participated in and had front row seats to some spectacular train wrecks. My own and those of others, again with some folks that I've liked and those I could give a rats ass about. The casualties and collateral damage at times have been devastating.

I don't want to see the one that's rolling down the tracks right now.

This is rare, but it happens.

2011-02-07T11:24:00.001-05:00

Just this morning my door bell rings. I thought it was Don coming for coffee, so I just popped the door open. (Note to self, you know better than that.) It wasn't Don though, it was this guy who wants my pharmaceuticals.

So as he stands there asking, "Is anything happening" he flashes a rock in his hand.

Once upon a time, and not that long ago I would have invited him into my place. If only to give me time to figure how I going to get that rock from his hand to my pipe. Even at 9:00 A.M. that rolls through a smokers mind. If that smoker is jonesing, even a pebble looks huge.

Anyway, I don't like this guy. He's a pain in the ass in more way than one. In a sense it's like he has some sort of weird radar that let's him know when there is something somewhere for him. His presence aggravates me, with his loud demeanor and I always have this need to watch my stuff when he is around. His girlfriend, who wasn't with him is evil as well. A couple of weeks ago she tried to do a bum's rush into my door.

It didn't work that time either.

But, the rat bastard knows every crack heads soft spot and was trying to work it. Funny thing, as today was not his day. I didn't have anything he would be interested in having, and oddly enough the thought of having him in my home was enough to give him the broom.

A small victory?

Perhaps, but even a drunk will turn down a drink for time to time.

This has me a bit twisted up

2011-02-01T22:58:00.003-05:00

Crack smokers are more likely to die from violence than from any other cause. Click on the title to see what I mean.

I have no statistics to back that claim. There probably isn't a study that reveals the odds of getting the living shit knocked out of you or killed if you follow this lifestyle. The threat of violence is always a possibility from any number of sources. I've seen it, endured it and have seen some of the aftermath.

Do you have any idea how huge the hole looks at the end of a barrel of a gun when it's pointed at your face? I don't advise further investigation in that regard.

I have had my home invaded by drug dealers who became their own best customers. I've seen women smacked around because they owed a dealer as little as ten dollars. I have seen people beat in my home because I spent money with the wrong dealer. I've robbed dealers for their money and drugs.

Big mistake.

There have been plenty of times I've seen the results of people getting jacked on the street. Regardless of the success of who ever was trying to rob them or me, there are always a few bruises.

There have been cases where I was attacked because I had enough and just wanted to take a break. Staying up for 5 days or more makes people act a bit strange. Throw crack into the equation and it can get real spooky. Irrational behavior is an understatement.

I have had moments myself, but self control or thinking it through or just plain exhaustion have saved me from serious consequences. Sometimes coming down sharpens ones ability to persuade or hustle or scam to get what they want. I now tend to go in that direction rather than the physical. Because of some limitations I'm more of a cerebral type of crackhead.

Yeah, right.

So now, I limit whats available for partying and am choosy in who is allowed into my home. That's no guarantee that things won't go south at some point in time, but I do what I can to lessen any negative impact on me or my guests. I also allow only one person at a time.

More on that in a future post, but I've had the rat bastards even steal my toilet paper.

The murder of that poor woman in Lake City is just one more example of what becomes to some of us. I can only speculate, but an educated guess from my perspective is her boyfriend didn't think the party was over just because there was no more dope on the table. She probably had had enough or didn't want to spend any more money.

The news reports say that they were on a binge, he strangled and then slashed his girlfriend's throat and grabbed her ATM card. He got $300.00, probably the maximum the machine would spit out or the balance in her account and bought more crack. From the timing of the death of his girlfriend until he called his mother and turned himself in, he wasn't quitting until all that shit was puffed up.

But that drug, the lifestyle and all the insanity that comes along with it claimed two more victims. One who thought she was safe with her boyfriend, doing a bit of end of the month partying and ending up dead. The other who wasn't ready to end the party and will spend a lot of his life in prison.

The sorry fact in this all is this, it's just dope.

On being inconvenient.

2011-01-30T11:55:00.002-05:00

There have been times that there have been inconvenient people in my life. So I understand the concept all too well. You may know what I mean, if not let me explain. There have been people who show up at an event or certain place at the entirely wrong time. Their presence creates situations that might require way too much explaining or their behavior is less than what many might consider proper social protocol.

Running into inconvenient people has also happened just driving down the wrong street with someone "normal" in my car. Street dealers or just people on the street who knew me, or my car would shout my name out loud, thinking I was in the area to score drugs. It also stimulates ones creativity.

I now have almost as many lines of bullshit as L. Ron Hubbard has written books since his death. As a friend once put it, "if bullshit were music, you'd be a brass band." Now I'm cursed with "Stars and Stripes Forever" running through my head at times.

The thing is that I am now the one who is an inconvenience to some people who were part of my life or I was part of theirs. Wedding have happened, children were born, people have passed and other life events that in my past life my participation was expected. Indeed in some cases, my presence was more than welcome.

The fact of my status was again brought into focus when a member of my extended family, or more correctly ex-family passed away.

I have an aversion to going to funeral home viewings. I have also learned over time that one went to those things not so much for the dead, but for the people who are left behind. So I mentioned that I might have a hard time getting to the funeral home, and basically was told not to worry about it.

I then suggested that a sympathy card was probably in order. The response to that was that maybe just posting an entry in the online guest book would be just fine. Something that could be made to disappear when the next link was clicked. At that point it became apparent what had become of me.

My presence or even physical evidence of my existence has become well, inconvenient.

There will be certainly those who say this all so much bullshit. Fact is though, the very best bullshit is wrapped around a kernel of truth. There may be a bit more than a kernel in this though...

Now cuing up "The Minnesota March."

Five days

2011-01-29T16:01:00.002-05:00

It has been five days of hitting a pipe and now it done.

For awhile anyways.

Last Tuesday was money day. Bills were paid, food and other necessities were bought. Things that needed to be taken care of were and I've come out the other side fairly scar free. I don't think anyone else was damaged in this particular run as well. Well maybe not too badly as a friend got beat trying to buy something off the street. Not that they didn't know the risks, but for the small amount of money lost and perhaps a bruised cheek perhaps some lessons were learned.

Those kids out there will rip you off in a heart beat.

There is that period where there is money to buy drugs and no one was answering the phones. That is frustrating to say the least, especially when you are starting to come down and in your mind the party isn't over yet. But when the Dude says he's on his way and four hours later he is still a no show, you get more than a bit edgy. That is one of those times that you start thinking that going out to find something is the way to go.

Those are also the times when getting beat for a few bucks, getting literally beat for a few bucks and some wild adventures start to unfold. I've gone on those excursions, looking for just a twenty piece and returned home close to a week later.

Anyway, until a bit of cash comes around to me or someone gifts me with a few hits, it's back to nearly normal. Whatever the hell normal is nowadays.

Ted Williams, my neighbor Don and me...

2011-01-21T09:26:00.003-05:00

Please, don't get me wrong. No one would like to see Ted make it in some fashion more than I. But he's been places I have, if not geographically, but at least in character and spirit. With that in mind there are some things that are certain. One of which is you can't go back.

That is a sorry and not so sorry fact.

Happy, smiling Ted on that ramp got sucked in by his own hustle and bullshit. His hook was his voice. People would pull up and listen to his undeniably great sounding, professionally trained voice and throw him a buck. In the grand scheme of things, I think that's all he wanted. Enough cash to get some food for his belly, a bottle of cheap booze, a little weed and perhaps a few hits.

He told that Columbus, Ohio news reporter that he had two years clean. That is almost as believable as his telling me that his guys shit was the best in town. Perhaps that is prejudicial on my part, but one of the things that has stuck with me from my first stint in rehab is this:
"How do you know when an addict is lying? Their lips are moving."

That may be an over generalization, but it is a philosophy that has served me well over the years.

Not to elaborate too much, Ted is already caving in to the wants and expectations of those around him. He has too much money in his pocket and bright prospects on the horizon. All this because big hearted, but certainly foolish benefactors who are also looking at Ted as a meal ticket. That includes his family that will admit to knowing him and assholes like Dr. Fucking Phil. Other do gooders for profit, like Dr. "Plant Drugs in Her Car" Drew are more than likely in close pursuit.

But did anyone consider that Ted may have been happy on that ramp? Did anyone consider that this instant fame and attention along with available money just might kill him? Did anyone consider that Ted, in a fashion got the evil genie back in the bottle and those do gooders just popped the cork on him?

Which brings me to Don and myself.

I first met Don about a year ago. He got out regularly for food at the Mission. He visited some people who enjoyed his company to a degree. He also was part of the "flavor" in the neighborhood. Many might say the flavor of my neighborhood is shit, but those who know are aware that there are very bright spots here as well.

Like Gammalost cheese.

Don had no income at all beyond a modest amount of food stamps and other hustles that brought a few bucks in here and there. When there was money, he would buy a bottle and retreat to his cell for a day to enjoy his vodka induced oblivion. Some smart ass suggested he apply for SSDI and that's when things started downhill. Social Security deemed him worthy of a partial payment until his claim was resolved.

More money meant more vodka and less trips into the world. Consequently his health has deteriorated a great deal over the past year. Broken ribs and punctured lungs from falls. Other bones, like his jaw have been broken as well. Life is not great when you have to take your meals through a straw.

Again, I can't help but wonder if Don and the world would be happier if things had been left as they were.

Then we come to my sorry ass. Not so sorry as it was a little over a year ago, as things were indeed dicey for me at times for awhile. Without exaggeration, dollars in an amount that easily is in the seven figure range have been blown on my addiction. Not all of it was on drugs either. When one takes into account the cost of the rehabs, things lost or given away and the broken marriages endured the numbers add up pretty quick.

Then there are the things lost that can never be measured in dollars and cents.

Three years ago there was a big pile of money in the bank. Enough to get enough to kill me. I packed some necessities in my new car and headed down the road, never expecting to come back to anything or anywhere.Lord knows I got very close by taking some of the wrong drugs, or overdose or by the hands of others.

I survived and to a certain degree I'm not sure how or why. The how is credited a bit to at least one family member who at least gave a shit to some extent. That person is now happily 1400 miles away from me now and is one of the few who contact me occasionally to see if I'm still alive. Another person helps as well by helping me execute a plan to keep me at least artificially broke.

I'm happy and to some degree so is the rest of the world.

The point of this all is that the temptation to "help" someone out with money, or regain lost fame or position may well be misguided. There is this perception some have that there is something that needs fixed, and dammit, they are gonna' see that it is fixed.

Maybe the better way is to just leave well enough alone.

Who says crack heads don't like football.

2011-01-17T08:55:00.003-05:00

Well, this one does.

There really hasn't been a time when I didn't give a rat's ass who was playing on any particular Sunday. With the exception of a few really bad years, I did care who was in the playoffs and if the Steelers were in the Super Bowl, GREAT! In all honesty though, football has been one on those thin threads on reality I have held onto for more than a few years.

Reality?

Well, something other than where the next hit was coming from in any event. And more real than that college football BCS baloney. So, it has been one of the things that for a few hours on a few Saturdays and Sundays and an occasional Monday night that has keep me mostly crack free.

It works to a degree so there are no complaints on my part.

With Pittsburgh's win on Saturday, a celebration of sorts was had on my part. Some get a kick out of champagne but my tastes veer off of that a bit . Big surprise there, right? Not enough to make for an all night binge, and there never really is enough. Just enough to get me sitting in the kitchen for a little while.

One other thing, I am no candidate for crackhead sainthood. I am not one of those who easily can keep it near without burning it up it as soon as possible. I did manage though to not take a hit until that game was over.

There are small victories at times beyond what is on a score board.

Carpet Farming

2011-01-11T08:44:00.002-05:00

Is not just about being out of crack.

Carpet farming and a handful of other seemingly strange behaviors are the result of either having ones OCD kicked into high gear or the power of suggestion playing in your mind. Now, there is often the case where you might see some crack head on their hands and knees when the party's over, but what I'm talking about is searching while there is still a big pile on the table in front of you. While it is something that I have engaged in, there are those who take it to an entirely new level.

Dropping some crumbs, or even a whole hit will get you running your fingers through the rug. Sometimes the sloppiness of yourself or whoever is with you will set off this behavior. Sometimes it just looking down and seeing a white speck standing out against a darker background. Most likely it's the crumbs from the popcorn you ate earlier in the day, or in the week or sometime last month. I have been guilty of leaving crumbs of one sort or another on the floor just for the amusement factor.

Bad Crackhead.

Often though, this type of thing can be triggered when one person starts it, then rest of the party will start looking downward as well. There are times you might walk into a room of two or three smokers on all fours, searching for crumbs. Also are the instances were somebody is going though their pockets, purses and even taking off shoes looking for a hit. You can't imagine the amount of pocket lint I've seen smoked.

The funny part is that this happens when someone gets a really good blast in themselves.

Behaviors vary from person to person when that big one takes over in the brain. Some folks will change seats, have to walk around or just stand up. That is usually my reaction. Other people become very still and want to listen to what is going on around them. Here again, is another of my reactions. There is also the strong sexual component to that drug's effect on ones mind. This has been the case with me as well. More often it's a male type thing and women go someplace else in their minds.

I have often thought they fantasize about going to the mall and shopping.

But get one smoker to start crawling, even when there is plenty of dope left, you'll invariably get others to at least start looking downward. While there are those instances where it might be game, the suggestion that there is a twenty piece hiding under your chair is strong. The funny thing is, despite the odds sometimes there really is a big chunk sitting there.

So in the weird freak show that crack runs through ones mind, Carpet Farming is one of the more benign reactions.

Makes you want to go right out for a twenty, now doesn't it?

And then there is this.

2011-01-10T19:28:00.003-05:00

Yesterday had my neighbor Don coming over with the better part of a half gallon of vodka. I invited him to come by, knowing that he would try to get me drunk. I don't know if he fully understands how successful he was in that effort. Added to that is the fact that he did give me some of his sleep medication.

A perfect storm?

I really didn't think I would have drank as much as I put down. About 16 ounces at a minimum. Part of my reasoning at first was so I could pour some off to hold for him later. From all evidence that faced me this morning, there wasn't a drop set aside. It also looked like a tornado blew through here as well.

Clothes strewn all over, couch cushions were on the floor. The coffee table was flipped over onto the couch. End tables were on their sides and a table lamp was wounded as well. Boxes that contained summer clothes and paperwork were dumped on the floor.

In the overall scheme of things, that was minor.

I have always considered myself a mostly harmless, fun drunk.. The guy who wore the lampshade type who basically got off on making people laugh at his antics. Looking over some things that were posted online though took on a decidedly sharp and hurtful edge. And as far I can tell, it did get to the point that whatever was coming out of my mind was essentially gibberish.

The chances are that this type of behavior can and may well happen again. The thing is though, if I can say no to that wickedly bad tasting shit, it will be a lot less destructive. Gimme a few beers and a little weed and things go so much better.

Lastly, Don did stop by again tonight. We ate chicken and biscuits and I passed on taking a hit from his bottle. He wasn't too drunk and I was happy to have an excuse to cook and listen to the same stories for the 100th time.

The world and I am a lot happier for that fact.

If I'm here, then I not there.

2011-01-04T19:54:00.004-05:00

There of course being that little freak show in my mind induced by a few hits on a glass pipe.

While some of my thoughts here are dark, that may well be attributed to withdrawals or at times just plain being depressed. My depression, bipolar disorder, or whatever the diagnosis of the day is may be more the circumstantial, environmental, what's happening at the moment type of mood. You know, like crappy weather , the dishwasher broke, the dog shit on the rug or not enough sunlight type of thing.

Besides, I've always been a moody, brooding, introspective sort. It definitely shows in this blog at times. That's one reason I read over older entries on occasion, to gauge where I may have been mentally.

I'm not making little of the clinical type of depression that many suffer. The thing is many of the medications I've been prescribed pose more of a danger to my overall health than taking nothing at all. For all intent and purpose, those prescribed medications have been avoided now for over 3 years and I'm still here.

And posting here or playing there is not done while I am geeking my ass off. Hell, I can't even stand the sound of the fan on this thing when I am ripped. I don't post here drinking or high from cannabis either, but will raise hell on the social sites. I don't think I'm alone in that regard.

Now, one other thing before I go on another rant. I made it 3 days into 2011 without a hit.

Now to rant. While some of this is a rehash, all of it needs to be talked about.

I read a Harm Reduction site that thought it would be a good idea for some sort of consumer advocacy with crack dealers. When I first read that, I did nearly piss myself laughing. There is a part of me though that thinks something along these lines is way overdue. A consumer union for crack smokers. A Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval is a bit of a stretch, but many of us are tired of the game played by those peddlers.

But lately there have been situations that is not all that unusual for these parts anymore.

First let's start with the concept of time. 5 minutes generally means anywhere from 10 minutes to a half hour. 10 minutes could be anything from 15 minutes to an hour. To be told twenty minutes is the kiss of death. That generally means a couple of hours to next week sometime.

You can call a dealer up and not get an answer. Most often messages are frowned upon, but there are occasions when you know they are still sleeping at 2 in the afternoon, so you just leave a "give me holler when you wake up" type of message on the voicemail. Even that is sometimes frowned upon.

But sometimes they will call back, regardless if a message is left or not in a few minutes. Then the process of waiting as described above begins. I have also called dealers and was told it would be quite a while before they could get to me. I did have to laugh though when they would call back, sometimes the next day, asking if I was still looking for that package.

A day later, shit. I started dailing more numbers immediately after getting that kind of news.

Quality of product is always an issue. Straight drop, as some term it is nonexistent around here. Cut and soda may make up the greatest percentage of what you're buying. When there is just too much soda and cut in the rock it does need to be recooked. It's a simple process, but many smokers are way too inpatient to take the time. Most anyway. There are a few crack heads who, as part of their particular ritual, will recook the crack.

Recooking may well be the best thing to do, considering some of the stuff used to cut the stuff. The hit is cleaner and usually smaller amounts are required on the pipe for satisfactory results. It also cuts down on the amount of burnt soda that remains on the screen and usually gets inhaled along with the smoke.

I've hacked up black crap from my lungs days after my last hit. Actually, weeks afterward there have been fits of coughing up black mucous while in rehab. Some call it Crack Hack. Since I smoke a pack of cigarettes a day, that is somewhat enhanced.

There are those rare occasions that your regular "trusted" dealer may even sell you something that is not crack at all. Buying off the street from an unknown will more often than not get you gank dope. Getting that from a regular slinger is unusual, but it happens. One occasion had a regular source try to sell me a piece of street salt.

Another friend recently told me of getting drywall from a source usually considered straight up in regards to what they sold. Sometimes accidents happen, as in this case where the dealer did make things right. He was out of his usual product and bought from someone else to make a sale. Then again there are those occasions of it being just a case of being ripped off. The risk of that is substantially increased if the seller has a habit themselves.

It's rare, but it happens.

Most of the sellers know first hand the depths that some crack heads will go to keep the run going. These kids aren't dumb, and they know that if they taste it, they may well find themselves in a similar situation. The consequences for some to use is also life and death.

I heard a story about a dealer in Florida, who when it was discovered that they were shaving their product for their own use came to an unhappy ending. A pipe was filled with an extraordinary amount of crack at a meeting held on the roof of a high building in West Palm Beach. After ingesting that hit, the poor fool was tossed off of that roof. Know what a really big blast can do to one, my hope is they had a heart attack and died before hitting the pavement.

I can't prove the authenticity of this tale, but it came with slight variations from two different people.

The simple fact is for the real peddlers it's Mo Money, Mo Money, Mo Mutha' Fuckin' Money!

So while I expect no help from Consumer Reports or the State Attorney Generals Office on Consumer protection on these matters, it is in it's purest sense a case of caveat emptor.

Buyer beware.

Maybe I am getting too cocky.

2011-01-02T12:39:00.002-05:00

Clicking on the title will take you to my posts from 2009.

I just finished reading that stuff and realized that in many respects I've been living, comparatively speaking, in Hog Heaven. My physical well being and creature comforts are much improved since that time. Some people actually talk to me as well.

The thing is that I am starting to get that feeling of being bullet proof and nothing could be further from the truth. I still could be on the street with the slightest misstep. I have allowed some people closer to me and run the risk of alienating them. Or alienating them again.

The thing is that I'm starting to buy my own bullshit.

I have made a comic character of myself and some folks are entertained by some of the crap that jumps from my brain, to fingers to computer screen. Some people are pissed as well, but part of that is my self defense. Then again, fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. There are times though my jokes have had an evil cutting edge. And yes, some virtual blood has been shed.

It is unnerving to have someone meet me for the first time and be referred to as Erie Cracker. Is that really who I want to be identified as beyond that virtual food fight? Sadly, it might be too late now.

But it's time to step back and take a look at things. Time to clear my head and not just from crack. Time to think about who I've been messing with with bad results and who is messing with me. Shit happens when you paint a target on your forehead and I can see a storm's a coming.

It's past time to pop open a can of Act Right on my ass.

While 2011 has been crack free so far, no predictions will be made. It is only January 2nd for chrissakes and the reality is not a rosy as some would like to paint for me. The unrealistic expectations of others has me hitting a pipe as much as today's weather.

So while bullshit has become a form of recreation of sorts, when I start buying into it things usually go wrong.

Very wrong.

Another year.

2010-12-30T16:00:00.003-05:00

For the faint hearted, intellectually aloof or easily bored a typical end of year spew starts now:

And just like a Chinese curse, it's been interesting.

Good things and bad things have happened. Friends have been made and some have been lost. Help has come in many different forms and assistance has been given as often as necessary or possible. Sometimes when it hasn't been necessary as well.

Places were visited that I haven't been to in years and may not get to again for that long again. One place had me grinnin' idiotically inside and out like a kid who was on an E ticket ride at Disney World. Hugs, laughs, tears and hopes were shared with as many as who would accept or give them. Turmoil, beyond the tardiness of drug dealers has been absent in many respects. Hope has been rekindled as well.

New things, both positive and negative were learned. To stop learning is to die and I do my best to try to learn at least one new thing every day. Mistakes were also made and some were corrected if possible. The only way to avoid mistakes is to do nothing. Mistakes are also a valuable learning tool.

Needless to say, I've done a lot and continue to get quite an education.

So, let's see what next year brings.

At this moment though, the slingers have their pre-check, pre-holiday shit available. Tomorrow they'll switch up to mostly soda. It's all about marketing.

OK..For those of you who have read this, for those of you who know and for those of you I hope never know, have a gloriously Happy Fuckinggggg New Year!

Really...

Honest...

No kiddin'!

Yesterday was Christmas.

2010-12-26T12:08:00.003-05:00

It was a nice day in many respects for me. Hopefully it was for everyone else as well.

I did drink a few beers, had a little wine and smoked the dregs of my stash of MMJ. Got silly, talked a bit of trash and things with neighbors, friends real and online and family that did call. There have been lonely Christmases where there were no calls or visits, so I consider yesterday a good one in very many respects.

So, despite my best efforts to be the hermit, cracks are developing in that scheme.

I also did do things that helped make my Christmas better. Beyond getting tipsy and beyond getting a little stoned, which suck when you are alone, there was a bit of spirit that was missing from my life. See, there is that thing about giving that helped. Past holidays were in many ways excesses in everything, but not for quite awhile. So, you would be surprised what effect a few cheesy and unexpected gifts have on people who had no expectations.

Especially no expectations from the Erie Crackhead.

If you want to feel better, it takes a little work beyond just getting a buzz and it doesn't take a small fortune in cash. The thing is that it would have been a good day without any buzz at all. That was just the icing.

So far as crack is concerned, none yesterday. A bit on Christmas Eve and as a matter of fact there was a bit every day since last Tuesday. More than usual lately, but my rationalization is that it's the holidays and everyone is getting buzzed from something.

Yeah, a rather weak excuse, but sometimes no excuse is necessary to get things rolling.

The new year is now approaching. No resolutions will be made to quit this or to stop that behavior. Just time to look over the where I've been, where do I want to go and tightening up of my plan. Adjusting my perspective is part of that as well. To look at things a bit differently to see what's missing or can be done better, because at times it seems I'm chasing my tail and my focus is lost.

There have been successes though, so...

Better is better.

People and other things.

2010-12-19T15:57:00.002-05:00

Right off the get go though, that refund the bank so graciously refunded me is all puffed up.

Unexpected money that wasn't planned for doesn't get the same attention as regular funds. Regular in that those moneys are earmarked for food, rent, light, internet access and squirreled away for emergencies and other practical uses.

A bit of those reserves are diverted for recreational purposes, but that is a given. Regularly scheduled screw ups are spaced and kept to a minimum. Screw ups may be a bit strong, but that's the view through others eyes. For the moment, the Crackhead just looks at it like another buzz.

Which gets me to people.

I belong to some social networking sites and have been, well Erie Cracker there. A cartoon cutout personality that makes smart ass remarks, manages to get few people to a least laugh a little or scratch their heads. I would like to say that is a facet of who I am, but part of me has it as a compartment of me that is opened on occasion.

At times it's like Monty hall asking, "Do you want door #1, door #2 or door #3."

There are a few out there who might get that joke.

The thing is though, there have been a few who, through some way or another cut away some of that mask and have gotten a glimpse of who I am. Not the Cracker, not Erie Crackhead, but who I am. We're not talking about flowery shit or blowing smoke up my ass type of stuff either. Flattery pisses me off anyway and those bullshit artists are given short shrift.

There are some honest observations that are creepily spot in some regard on in a scary sort of way. Scary as in, if you knew me, you really wouldn't like me. Or if you get to know me and get too close, I'm gonna' chase you away. And it isn't because I don't like a people. Way too often the exact opposite is the truth.

On top of that, if not on that social site when some think I should be causes the phone to ring. Part of that makes me feel good to a degree, and another part is frightened and pressured.

But there are hazards in getting too close.

For them and me.

So, there are comforts and safety in solitude at times. And with me, my crack and I, a lack in feeling has comfort as well.

One other thing. Occasionally I check out the stats for this blog. partly to see if anyone really reads this thing. The other, and this was fascinating, to see where the readers come from. As it turns out a few different places. But one site had a post referring to the blog with the heading, "Who taught crackheads how to blog?"

So hoping to maintain this person's stereotype of crackheads, my response is, "Like all crackheads who blog, I read a book."

Erie Crackhead isn't upset by that question, but he did find it amusing. Be happy I'm blogging and not practicing medicine, like a couple of crackheads I've met.

I'm still working on articulate though...

HELP!

2010-12-14T07:42:00.004-05:00

Comes in many different forms.

To start with, last Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday had me smoking a bit of crack. The amazing thing, but in a sense it's not all that amazing, it was on someone else's dime. The end result was introducing this generous friend to another friend who... I'm not going to paint the whole picture here for you, but you get my drift.

This friend is now able to handle things on their own.

There is part of the whole thing that had my conscience twanging a bit, especially with my "Do no harm to others" position, but this person knows the consequences. Perhaps as well as I do and maybe even better. When a crackhead has a mission in mind, there is little that will turn them away, so this crackhead went with the flow. It is not a good thing and it is not a bad thing.

It's a crackhead thing.

Another part of my plan, which is too discourage smokers from using my home to smoke in was violated to a degree as well. This smoker isn't a hard core street person, has a home, a job and some standing in their community. So I think this will be a rare occurrence. And they didn't drag along other smokers along. The other thing is that their smoking here was a better option as far as their safety was concerned.

I guess that can be looked at as keeping the crackhead and others in their life out of harms way.

Help came in a different vein as well.

An online friend who is very involved in Harm Reduction steered me to an email list for Crack Harm Reduction. This was a blessing tome, as the Erie Crackhead thought he was alone in the wilderness in trying to put together a plan. While the list is not really active in regards to traffic, there is a gold mine of files regarding HR techniques.

The files are reports and studies written by professionals as well as those in my shoes. There is , from all appearances, everything from making a safe homemade pipe to disease avoidance and prevention. This will take some time to get through and may require trips to the library to get it all downloaded into my home computer. Many files are pdf files that tend to make my machine vomit.

I was told that was because of too many visits to porno sites.

Yeah, whatever.

Things that are general public safe may be disseminated here, with permission of course. As mentioned in the past, I am not going to share the mechanics of using in this blog. But I will talk about some things of a social or health nature that might help those with a real interest in helping themselves or others.

Nuts and bolts will be shared privately with online friends in the same position as I.

Lastly, help came from a totally unexpected source. That would be my bank who refunded, what they considered to be excessive overdraft fees. It's not an insignificant amount and it has me working overtime on what should be done with that money.

Do I take the cash and have a pre-check party? Do I squirrel it away for a higher purpose? I kind of think there will be some kind of compromise on the horizon.

Chances are good there will be a bit of a buzz in the next few days. Chances are also good that some jaw harps, kazoos, yo-yos and balsa wood planes will be in some stockings as well. Silly stuff like that sometimes last longer in someone's mind than the latest high tech gadget costing tons more.

One other thing. Don is alive and still has a roof over his head. he managed to get through his own detox without dying. Saturday he said he was going to go to AA. Sunday he was drunk again. He doesn't have enough money to fall too far down the hole again, but we are all keeping our fingers crossed that things are going in the right direction for him.

Be assured though, should he stay sober and try some 12 step shit around here, I'm gonna' kick his ass out the door.

Some behaviors will not be tolerated in this house.

Well, this blows.

2010-12-08T12:22:00.003-05:00

Crackheads, junkies and even speed freaks are given a bad rep. Mostly because the drugs they and I use are illegal. That in and of itself creates a shadowy and scary stigma about them and their using. The realities of their existences are really no where as bleak as many would like to believe.

Friggin' drunks are another story entirely.

I've known more people who have died from alcohol than all the other substances I have dabbled in over the years. I can't be judgemental, as I have been donkey faced, blacked out, how the fuck did I end up here drunk on more than one occasion. The aversion to that is a small part of what has had me hitting a pipe instead of falling into a bottle. An occasional beer buzz is about my limit in that regard. Well, mostly an occasional beer buzz as out and out blitzed has only happen a couple of times in the past few months.

I've got a preference, you know.

But I am totally mystified why someone would want to be drunk 24/7. If you're never sober, how can you appreciate being tipsy anymore?

Now though memories of a dear friend are coming back up to the surface. We meet in St. Paul MN at a Hazelden halfway house. It was kind of weird but this woman and I struck up a friendship that lasted until she died about a year after we went our separate ways. Just friends who some reason connected because of similarities in our backgrounds, if not our drugs of choice.

She stayed in St. Paul and I went, well everywhere via see America the Rehab Way.

We would talk on the phone often. Usually when she was drunk or getting ready to get drunk. I usually called in a depressed state when I was out of crack and out of money. She even tracked my ass down in the Ramsey County Rubber Room after an unusually crazy run on my part. For my part I 911ed her ass when she threatened to jump out of a window of the St. Paul's Hotel. She escaped to call me, mother fucking me ten different ways, from a dive bar on West 7th. Street.

I can only imagine the looks on that bars patrons as this Martha Freakin' Stewart perfect woman tore me a new asshole from their payphone.

Some of you might have had similar relationships with rehab friends or using buddies. As time went by her calls were less frequent and when they did come they were less coherent.

One day her boyfriend called to tell me he found her dead on the couch. An empty bottle of vodka lay next to her. He called because he knew what kind of friends we were to each other. She left behind two beautiful daughters and a broken hearted ex-husband who followed the Hazelden suggestion of just letting her go.

Fuckers.

Why am I bringing all this shit up now?

Because this time I'm getting a front row seat to another drunk trying to drink themselves to death. Yeah, Don is getting way out of control. The problem is that he is a likable guy. Engaging and interesting when he's sober. Stories to tell, experiences I've never had that he relayed to me and was not bad company on more than one occasion.

For the past two weeks he's been too drunk even to come over for coffee in the morning.

Now he's out of money, no hidden stashes of booze that I'm aware of and a landlord who wants to put him on the street. Erie streets are not particularly pretty right now with about a foot or so of snow on the ground and more is falling.

The last couple of days he's been too debilitated to even get out of his bed. Usually when I knock on his door, he's up and greeting me in some fashion. The past couple of days he just hollers for me to come in from his bed. He probably hasn't dressed or showered in over a week.

So as mentioned before, no money, no booze and shortly the shakes are going to overcome him. At the advice of a friend in the D&A business the landlord and I are going to try to get him to a detox. But he still isn't ready yet. Tomorrow or the day after he should be sufficiently shaky to make that decision on his own.

But if he still refuses, there are options.

I hope it doesn't come to that but that option will be used if necessary. The thing is that I really don't want to walk up there some morning and find him dead. Maybe that's selfish on my part, but there has to be a more dignified way to check out of here.

And yes, it's that bad.

Seven Days

2010-12-07T11:48:00.002-05:00

Not a hit in a week and that's not bad.

Over that time there was a couple of beer buzzes and a bit of weed was smoked. That helped cravings a little and preserved the little cash I still have on hand. A couple of evenings had some people over for awhile as well.

Company here is almost always welcome. Almost is key here but it was nice to put a real face on someone who I knew only as pixels on a screen. Another person annoyed me a bit with their insistence that I pull up photos of long dead movie starlets, but I'll recover.

I think.

Which brings me to the realization that this place really needs to be cleaned up a bit. Dancing with broom, mop and vacuum cleaner would go a long ways towards making this place a bit more people friendly. So would a bit of dusting and throwing out some miscellaneous crap that tends to accumulate in my small world.

Nothing too toxic, just clutter.

The biggest offender is the laundry, both dirty and clean. With a little effort, I might well have some places for people to sit without having to shift piles of clothes from here to there to over there. Then if more than two people show up, they won't have to stand or sit on the floor.

Hey, the holidays are near so it could happen. Maybe.

The thing is that not hitting the pipe has an effect on my being more aware of my surroundings. A certain amount of dissatisfaction with the current state of affairs exists. At least from a house keeping point of view and how I present myself to the rest of the human race. While no Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced bouquet by Hyacinth), it's time to get cleaning and get away from this machine for awhile.

It would be nice though if Heloise and Betty Crocker showed up.

And Better is Better, even if it exhibits itself out in fairly mundane ways.

Sometimes you just have to laugh.

2010-12-04T11:41:00.002-05:00

Because if you don't your gonna' cry.

I don't watch a whole lot of TV. Partly because I don't have cable and reception for free TV is sketchy at times. Partly, and this is the main reason, it's a total waste of time. Even with the amount of time I have you won't often catch me vombiefied staring at the tube.

Well, unless I'm high as hell.

The other night I did catch a bit of an episode of House. There was a character in it who had some deadly almost incurable disease that had his outward expression totally reversed from what he was feeling inside. When given bad or sad news, he would grin like a freakin' idiot.

I've done that many times.

Part may well be that I'm playing poker in a sense. Not wanting to tip my hand or show my cards so that I'm not placed at some sort of disadvantage. Partly a "Keep smiling so they won't know what you're up to," type of ploy to keep people off balance. It's also another part act ignorant and people will scratch their heads and go away type of thing as well.

That part is down pat.

There are those times when acting the fool or making someone else laugh works to get me through my particular funk. It helps for awhile anyway. Getting a buzz from a little weed also helps that mood as well. It often takes the level of discourse right down to the gutter as well.

As I haven't been arrested or shot yet, it's seems to be all good.

The thing is though, not everyone smiling or laughing is truly happy and may well be depressed. At the same time there are those who are crying who really are happy as hell. Sometimes it's easy to get confused. Incongruent reactions keep people off balance.

That's my job and it appears I do it well.

Right now though the Erie Crackhead is neutral so far as happy or sad. Partly because nothing has happened good or bad to anyone I care about. For that matter there are no real issues of major concern are on the horizon either. Not having hit a pipe in four days may well be part of reason.

Four days is no cause to throw a celebratory party, but considering the crack that has been ingested over the past few weeks, this is certainly a good thing. The only person that might be upset by this fact would be my Dude. But he won't be too upset because he knows sooner or later he'll get a call.

Smug mother fucker that he is.

So for awhile it'll be a few beers, maybe a little wine and a bit of smoke. Self medication to improve my attitude and keep the rest of you wondering what is really up.

When I finally figure what is really up myself, you all will be close to the first know.

As if...

What is Harm Reduction

2010-12-01T14:12:00.003-05:00

The following is from the Harm Reduction Network gives an overview of Harm Reduction. While there isn't a Harm Reduction Plan for crack cocaine as such, these are some of the tools that are the basis of my efforts.

"WHAT IS HARM REDUCTION?

Harm reduction is about reducing the health, social, and economic harms to individuals, communities, and society of high risk behaviors such as drinking alcohol, using drugs, etc.

Harm Reduction Is Pragmatic:
Harm reduction addresses alcohol use and alcohol intoxication with realistic, commonsense strategies that have been proven to work. Harm reduction emphasizes practical solutions that can be implemented in real life over idealistic impossibilities. Harm reduction recognizes that perfectionism is often the enemy of the good. Harm reduction recognizes that people choose to drink alcohol or to become intoxicated because they perceive certain benefits which accompany the risks of drinking alcohol. Harm reduction focuses on minimizing alcohol related harms rather than attempting to eliminate alcohol use or alcohol intoxication altogether. Harm reduction recognizes that it is possible to have a far greater positive impact by getting a large number of people to make small changes than by getting only a few people to make large changes.

Harm Reduction Respects Individuality:
Harm reduction recognizes that there are an infinite number of differences between individuals in terms of their personal values systems, their experiences, their environments, and even their physiologies. Harm reduction "meets people where they are at" with their alcohol consumption and recognizes that each individual needs to choose for him or herself what sorts of changes he or she wishes to make in his or her alcohol use--if any. Harm reduction affirms the idea of "different strokes for different folks" and supports any positive change. Harm reduction recognizes that only the individual can decide if his or her best goal is safer drinking, reduced drinking, or quitting altogether. Not only is the individual best qualified, it is an inherent human right of the individual to make this choice for him or herself. Harm reduction is compassionate and humanistic. Harm reduction is nonjudgmental and always respects the rights and choices of the individual.

Harm Reduction Focuses On Risks And Prioritizes Goals:
Harm reduction recognizes that some alcohol related risks are worse than others and seeks to help individuals to prioritize risks and find strategies to avoid them. Harm reduction seeks to encourage people to follow goals which are achievable rather than to demand an impossible level of perfection. Harm reduction seeks to help people recognize and prioritize the reduction of the highest risk behaviors first.

Harm Reduction Recognizes That Alcohol Consumption Exists On A Continuum:
Harm reduction recognizes that there are a wide range of drinking behaviors which range from severe abuse to total abstinence. Harm reduction acknowledges that some ways of using alcohol are clearly safer than others. Harm reduction recognizes that the distinction between an "alcoholic" and a "non-alcoholic" is a false dichotomy for behaviors which lie on a continuum.

Harm Reduction Is Tolerant And Accepting:
Harm reduction recognizes that prohibitionist strategies can often backfire and increase harm rather than reducing it, therefore harm reduction concentrates on reducing or eliminating harms rather than on prohibiting behaviors. Harm reduction recognizes that successful abstinence is a great way to eliminate harm, but that coerced abstinence often backfires and results in worsened behaviors and increased harm. Harm reduction offers realistic options for those who are unable or unwilling to quit alcohol altogether. Harm reduction let's people forgive themselves and move on with life rather than beat themselves up with guilt and shame.

Harm Reduction Is About Empowerment
Harm reduction recognizes that the individual drinker is the primary agent of positive change. Harm reduction groups seek to empower the individual to improve his or her life and do not seek to empower the group at the expense of the individual. Research shows that people who believe that they are capable of making changes are the most successful at doing so. This is referred to as self-efficacy. Harm reduction empowers people to make changes which they choose for themselves.

Harm Reduction Is Not The Opposite Of Quitting
Harm reduction is supportive of individual choice. Harm reduction recognizes that some people find that their best option is to quit alcohol altogether and harm reduction is 100% supportive of the choice to abstain." Copyright 2010 The HAMS Harm Reduction Network.

With all that said, it should be noted that harder work in some areas are required by me. But like also mentioned, it is like golf. Adjustments to the plan, or reinforcing some things is always required.

At least by me...

It's been a little while.

2010-11-28T20:04:00.002-05:00

Part of the reason is that I am clueless as to what to say at times. Then there are other times that I just don't want to spill my guts here, or anywhere else for that matter. Holding stuff in is not healthy. In many respects there is a black plague of poison inside of me.

Bottled up and waiting to explode.

This place has provided, to some degree, a safety valve for that pressure. A place to vent without drawing anyone else into the drama I invent for myself. It's also a place to talk about progress or setbacks that have occurred.

Not much progress has been made over the past week.

Starting last Tuesday and through Saturday had me hitting the pipe. Not a good thing in many respects, but there are worse things that could have happened. There could have been serious repercussions to my behavior as well. Drugs and and other factors are a mother fucker when it comes to my personal behavior.

I tend to put the bar way low on those occasions.

Playing games are fine for kids. I am no longer a kid. Not by any one's stretch of imagination. Some of those games are putting me in a light that does not really portray who I would like to think I am. Shit, it's starting to creep me out in a way that is not easy to explain. To put it all in a nutshell, my drug addled mind has no business screwing with people online or over the phone.

So, with all that said changes are in the wind. So far as my using, well that is back burner for awhile. My budget for crack has dwindled, even though my spending for it is down, I have managed to stretch things out a bit further.

Smaller but more frequent purchases has saved me money, but the outcome is more days a little screwed up mentally. Wiring is getting scrambled a bit more and some reason in some sensible things is starting to get fuzzy. So a break is past due.

Time to reread things already written, reconsider my actions and attitudes and to make adjustments.

Anyway, it's almost a sure thing that I hit some more down the road. What needs to be addressed is the way I have to act. It's part of that doing no harm to others thing as well.

That part is perhaps the most important part of this all...

Sometimes I wonder...

2010-11-18T15:14:00.002-05:00

The following short essay by Steve Goodier touches me in a particularly ominous way.

I try to do things to improve my life and reduce harm to myself and to others. Sometimes there is success and other times has me wondering where the hell this is all going.

To hell in a hand basket?

A stressful weekend was endured and true to character, after it was all over getting high was the escape I chose. Getting to a point of being straight for a week before was an non-issue. Keeping myself broke helped a great deal. Having a goal in mind and in sight was also helpful as well.

To say that the efforts in keeping a clear mind in advance of this event were without merit is not accurate. To say that a magnifying glass on my mistakes caused me to pick up a pipe would also be incorrect as well.

But mistakes were made and wear on me a bit more than those things probably should. So my refuge is that period of temporary insanity that is part of my make up. A way to obscure what is really going on perhaps. A method to run away while standing perfectly still.

Shit is still there and my actions and behaviors haven't done one wit to make things better. It should also be noted that lately posting here, censoring what really is going on, is a result of revealing this blog to some people. Trying to be honest with myself is harder when trying to hide things from others.

This blog has helped me. Talking to myself about what is happening and how it affects things on a daily basis has had benefits. To that end, this is what this blog is about. Making this private may be an option because playing to an audience, small as it may be, has shaded what and how often posting here has occurred. To a degree playing to an audience is something I have been guilty of committing.

More stuff to chew on. What direction to go and who knows about it is another consideration. Some folks say this blog has been helpful to them. That was a secondary purpose here, but if it is becoming just another venue for bullshit then keeping that to myself might be best for everyone.

Putting myself at the top of that list is imperative.

So for now, I'll leave you with this:

"THOSE ARE MY PRINCIPLES

Comedian Groucho Marx quipped, "Those are my principles. If you
don't like them, I have others."

I have principles. And sometimes I follow them. Well, usually.

I also have opinions. I have opinions about politics, yard sales,
health food and fortune cookies. (Actually, more about the fortunes
than the cookies.) But they're opinions. I COULD be wrong about some of those things.

And I have opinions about four-year-olds. Like the one who came
screaming out of the bathroom to tell his mother that he dropped his
toothbrush in the toilet. He watched her fish it out and toss it
into the garbage.

That is when something occurred to him, something about when a
toothbrush ought to be discarded. He ran to the other bathroom and
came out with his mother's toothbrush. Holding it up, he announced,
"We better throw this one out too then . . . it fell in the toilet a
few days ago."

That confirms at least one of my opinions about four-year-olds.

But it also points to something more than an opinion - a principle.
In this case, the principle is about the importance of trying to do
the right thing, even if you're a few days late in doing it. Martin
Luther King, Jr. put it well: "The time is always right to do what
is right."

And one like it is this: doing the right thing, even in little
things, is never a little thing. And that's not just an opinion. It's
a principle that works."

-- Steve Goodier

Wasting time and getting wasted.

2010-11-11T09:38:00.003-05:00

Both are a waste but it helps to pass the time.

Seemingly having a lot of time on one's hands is an illusion. Things still need to be accomplished. Errands to be run, cleaning to do and laundry that is sitting in the corner are all hollering at me. Do this, do that and get it done so you can do something else.

Yesterday was a complete waste to add to all of this situation. Don was called to have a cup of coffee and he showed up at a little past 9 A.M. with his plastic bottle of liquid stupidity. I was going to not have any at that early hour, but eventually caved in to a few sips.

A few sips turned into a few gulps and a few gulps were enough to get me donkey faced drunk.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Twelve steppers, drug and alcohol professionals and a few self righteous folks will have a field day on the fact that I got stewed in an unplanned fashion. The fact is that while there were other plans for the day, nothing important was really missed. A few things were just put on the back burner for awhile.

Again.

It's not all bleak or dark or depressing. Some good things did happened, or perhaps more correctly, nothing really bad happened. As in Don didn't give me any money. Actually, no money was taken from Don even though an offer was made. More vodka was also put in reserve for the day when Don is shaking just a bit too much.

That does not make me any kind of hero.

I have said no or ignored his offers in the past. The fact is that there is always a price to be paid when taking his money beyond the simple fact that he needs to be repaid. Those costs range from the temporary insanity that goes hand in hand with smoking crack to the depression that always seems to follow using that stuff.

So, mood is better, resolve is being strengthened and maybe today will result in some accomplishments that will make life a bit more comfortable.

Sitting here is not getting anything done, though..

It's Time for a Change.

2010-11-09T08:34:00.005-05:00

Many people who have successfully quit smoking rocks for extended periods of time have one thing in common in that endeavor. Something happened that helped turn their backs to taking that next hit. Most didn't go to rehab, almost none of these people have sat in meetings to have God remove the obsession. They just don't anymore. They can explain this fact no better than they could explain the reason why they were hitting the damned pipe in the first place.

What is true is that something or someone entered their lives and made them want to stop chasing the demon.

Now, I've been here before. I've been at a point where the advantages of not buying and smoking crack have been so attractive that short dry spells have been achieved. Every time something happened to make all that resolve disappear. Unexpected windfalls of money or someone coming by with a free one.

You know as well as the Erie Crackhead that there are no free hits or free lunch.

So there is something that is happening in the life of this crack head. In many respects it is not an huge event in respects to other things that have happened in the past. But it is an event that will want me to be on my best behavior and a better frame of mind. This is so what can hopefully takes place will be better appreciated.

What is this great event that has this crack head dropping the pipe?

I really don't want to talk about it in this increasingly public forum. To say more would remove the mask a bit more and people would start doing mental math, putting two plus two together. Those folks may well come up with 42, but that would be the wrong answer for the wrong question.

But this non-event in many respects has a lot of power and has me wanting to be on my best. To be available mentally and emotionally for someone who just might need me. Someone who has been too absent from the Crackhead's life and that has finally sunk in for me.

There have been precautions taken already to make this work. I don't have crackheads streaming in and out of the place, so no "free" hits will be staring me in the face. My dealer has informed me that home delivery will be spotty in the future as well. Transportation problems of an unspecified sort will curtail the same door to door service enjoyed in the past.

Anyway, this is where I am today. No expectations of being forever crack free are clouding my mind. If there is more crack in my future, we'll know when that happens. No promises are being made to anyone, including myself. It's just that I will be more careful in some choices.

The fact is that that shit is screaming at me right now. It's basically saying, "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? You'll be geekin' to the max the next time Don waves a twenty in your face!"

That may well be so, but there are defenses in place for the short term. A little weed and a few beers have staved off making a call in the past. It'll work in the future as well, as long as I don't drink too much of that nasty ass vodka.

Not exactly the Hazelden model, but iHazeleden has about the same success rate as what I will be trying to accomplish. Sheesh, I should know, I've been through the freakin' place twice not counting their Fellowship Clubs.

If a hit does get taken, this much is also certain. It will be a setback. But it will not mean defeat, as long as I'm breathing after it's all gone. It's a setback and they provide opportunities all of their own. This is not a qualifier. This is a fact.

It's been a mixed bag.

2010-11-05T13:07:00.003-04:00

Tuesday and Thursday had me taking a few hits and drinking a few beers and doing a few tokes. Monday and Wednesday just had me taking a few tokes of medicine.

Both days when some crack was in the picture, as for the most days when I do that, were unplanned. Some money was had from Don and some was cash tucked away for a rainy day.

It was raining yesterday.

That's not entirely correct. I'm talking about the planned use, not the rain. When check time comes, I have planned what will be spent and how I'll spread that using out over several days. I have found that calling the Dude just once daily has facilitated getting a buzz over more days. This is in contrast to calling many times a day and being without in a very short period of time.

That is an improvement in regards to what might be called wasting it all at once. Budgeting and those lists have helped in that regard. It might also be pointed out that smoking weed afterwards has helped to lower the amount smoked in one particular day. I am disinclined to make that second call when stoned on weed and makes coming down a bit less frantic.

Less frantic in that the cravings for more are considerably lessened by the weed.

When one considers that I would smoke in one day what now is my monthly consumption, it is a big deal. It is to me anyway and that's what is most important.

Now I have to talk about Don.

To blame Don for my unplanned using is wrong. But I have ceased encouraging him to lend me money. When he has an excess of cash on hand though, invariably he will make an offer to slide a few bucks my way. Especially if he is under the influence. That condition is almost constant now, as his financial picture is improving, even though his health is rapidly going down the toilet.

He hasn't been here as often as he has in the past. In part this might be his discovery of my pouring off some of his vodka to reserve for him later. Like to stave off full blown DTs or at least to keep him from shaking himself out of a chair. The other factor is that he has increasingly been less capable of even getting out of his bed.

Tuesday had him calling early in the evening. I thought he might be calling to see what was cooking for dinner. He eats here occasionally, and as mentioned before is welcome company at times. This call was straight to the point though. He asks if I need a couple of bucks "to do your thing." He was already three sheets to the wind.

Did I say no?

Of course I said OK! At the same time I did one thing never done in the past. I asked if he could bring it by here. I thought he sounded incapable of getting out of his door, so if he did show up at all it would be several hours later or even a few days later. Contrary to what should have happened though, he agreed to stop by and said he would be here in 5 minutes. One hope in that was when really drunk five minutes has turned into 2 days.

My other hope was that he say if you want some cash you have to come get it yourself. There were a handful of excuses at hand that could have been used to keep me from tromping to his door. While the excuses were handy, it must be noted that the twisting of my stomach may well have taken me right to his door.

As a matter of fact, I would put money on my traveling for that money.

Five minutes later though, the doorbell rings and there he was. A little unstable on his feet, but standing there all the same. After being invited in, we shot the shit for a bit about things other than his temporary abundance in cash. After a bit though, he digs into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. He peels off what he thought was the agreed to amount and lays it on the table.

I didn't take it, but let the money sit on the table.

That was a good move on my part,because as it turns out there was more money there than he wanted to loan. There was also more money there than I wanted to have to repay. After a few minutes he does flip through the cash and discovers his mistake. Happily he puts the excess money back in his pocket.

Happily because he took that burden off of my shoulders. While I would have and will happily pay him what was agreed to, I am not sure that he would have been repaid what was originally laid out on my table. While thinking that all of his money would have been repaid, regardless of the amount, part of me doubts that fact. Just being honest about how a crackhead mind works.

And just pointing out the various ways we lose the word no from our vocabulary.

Monday, November 1, 2010

2010-11-01T09:31:00.002-04:00

A new day in a new month. We are still 2 months from the New Year, but it and Christmas are creeping up on us. The weekend was mostly uneventful

Friday night had me taking a few hits, after a bit of cash was discovered. I had some weed to come down and things went OK. So far as OK with a little pile of crack can go anyway. Saturday was laid back as was Sunday.

Saturday, because it was Saturday night was given to a few beers and a bit of weed. Nothing extraordinary took place beyond making a few silly posts to Facebook. A few people laughed and that's OK. They were friends who know if I was hanging around on the computer also knew I wasn't frying my brains with rocks.

Sunday was also a laid back day. Listening to the radio, then watching a bit of TV, anticipating watching the Steelers play NO in the evening. There was only one problem with that though. When the kids are back from school, the parking lot behind my place is full of cars. Sometimes those cars are left running. When that happens I can't tune into the NBC affiliate, Channel 12.

I also can't do this while my computer is running either.

Getting cable service for my TV is a possibility, but who wants to pay those outrageous fees for a few hours of entertainment a week? Paying to watch the Steelers lose isn't really my idea of a good time. Some television watching did take place though, the news and news programs were checked out. The new Sherlock on Masterpiece Mystery was also checked out as well.

While the first program in that series was great, the second show was a bit of a letdown. Show three promises to be a gasper, but all I can say is that the program Sherlock is by and large a HOOT!

With all that, nothing of any significance happened and the world is still spinning.

Don has had enough money to keep himself properly donkey faced for the whole weekend. He isn't coming by. I think after learning about my tucking away some vodka for emergencies he doesn't want to share. The plus side to that is not having to worry about his returning safely to his place. Not having to disturb our neighbors to carry him back is a plus as well.

They do have better things to do than worry about Don or I.

So after a by and large, boring weekend on can say there have been better and there have also been much, much worse periods in my life.

Better is well, better.

Oh! Tomorrow is election day. The Erie Crackhead votes and if anything that should be good cause for you to vote as well.

Friday.

2010-10-29T11:38:00.002-04:00

And things are looking up.

Yes, bills were paid.

Yes, groceries were bought.

Yes, money has been socked away.

Yes, crack was also bought and smoked. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday had me hitting the pipe. Not as much as past months, but enough to get me watchin' for the IBI and other such nonsense. Enough to screw with my mind another time and come out the other side mostly OK.

Mostly OK is sort of key here.

Mostly OK in that I am certain a little bit of something gets lost during these episodes of self administered insanity. Let me rephrase that statement. It is a certainty that a little something gets lost with each hit done. A little gray matter and white matter for that matter goes POOF! The remaining brain cells stop talking to each other and start a fist fight. A tiny bit of reason and logic disappear.

The other side of the coin is that some things haven't gone POOF! Like a bit of self respect when trying to get credit from a dealer. I just don't go there anymore. Like allowing a bunch of smokers and a slinger to turn my home into a crack house for the few free hits I could get out of the deal. I avoid that like the plague.

While I smoke that shit essentially alone, there are times some company would be nice. But there are costs in that scenario. Inviting someone to get high with me is breaking my own rules to "Do no harm to others." I came damned close to doing that. Fortunately my communications skills are down the toilet when I'm high.

While at times, loneliness is a mutha', guilt is even greater at kickin' ones ass. Harm Reduction to me has started to resemble golf. One little mistake can throw the whole game off. So one learns to adjust and improvise. Always keeping an eye on mistakes and learn from them.

That includes the Big Mistake that starts this whole thing spinning when I melt that rock.

So, even by accident, "Better is Better."

You have to have a plan.

2010-10-25T09:54:00.005-04:00

Yeah, it's that time again. Time to plan, make lists of what is needed and what should get paid.

What should get paid?

Well, everything that will ensure that my roof is over my head for another month for starters. Making sure that there are lights in my home is another. Also paying medical bills so the Docs, techs and others will be willing to do what needs to be done.

Also Don needs to be repaid. That's important for more than selfish reasons as this guy does watch my back as I watch out for him. It's a two way street, but that is not to say I'm not getting the better part of the deal. This also is to make sure when he is in one of those moods things will go my way.

Hey, I'm a crackhead, remember?

An inventory of the pantry as well as the refrigerator needs to be done. Grocery shopping is now a twice monthly chore. While I have enough canned foods of various types, some fresh meat and veggies is always a welcome addition to my diet. One cannot live on Spam alone.

Chore is too cold of a word to use for those excursions to the market or WallyWorld. It is a welcome experience from being cooped up in this place. Seeing and being around nearly normal people gives me some perspective of what life might be like without a pipe in my mouth. I also get a glimpse of what I don't want to be as well.

If you're wondering what I'm talking about, go to one of many sites dedicated to photos of typical, or not so typical WalMart shoppers. I don't think I fit that mold, but that is a judgement best left to others.

Oh! Those of you who might have an opinion on that can keep it to yourself.

Anyway, with enough money set aside and out of reach, getting enough food so leaning to much on the food banks is a possibility. No, actually it is a reality. So is the promise of reintroducing some material comforts and items back into my life. Besides, money spent there is not getting smoked up.

Now, I had better get my ass in gear. Sitting here, banging on the keyboard is not getting it done. Planning needs to be finished and even more importantly it needs to be executed. Just talking about it just doesn't cut the mustard.

If I don't follow through even I don't want to see that train wreck.

Oh, hell no!

This is from a private list...

2010-10-22T10:43:00.002-04:00

Hopefully it may benefit someone who reads this blog. It is also an outline of what I would term "Harm Reduction" for a crackhead. The identifiers including the list's origin have been omitted to protect everyones identity. The following is a portion of an inquiry made by someone who has discovered a crackhead in their life:

Anyway, now I have a VERY close friend whom I love very much and would like to continue to live with but whom is a "intermittent" crack user. Since I have not been in the immediate area of the abuse of crack before (although the majority of the people I know use it - just not around me) I would like to learn how to deal with this situation and possibly encourage my friend to "decrease their use to a bare minimum so to speak".

This is the response:

I truly wish there was something encouraging to say to you on this subject. My best is to say be careful and not to feed your friend's habit. That poison has for me ruined relationships and facilitated the loss of most of my things.

Things can be replaced, but people lost is another matter entirely.

I have known a lot of crack smokers through the years. There hasn't been a single one who is happy with their situation. There is a only a tiny minority of those folks who have successfully quit.

Controlled use is what I am trying to accomplish and have had small successes. While it's Harm Reduction in my eyes, there may be others who disagree. There is not a whole lot published about Harm Reduction for crack users but I'll give you an outline of my strategy. It might help you and your friend, and maybe not...

In regards to Harm Reduction to others:
1. I don't use around others who do not smoke crack.

2. I would never "turn on" someone to this poison. That includes showing someone how to convert cocaine to crack or any other "technical" aspects.
3. I avoid borrowing money from friends that cannot be paid back promptly or within the agreed to terms. (This is an area I need to work harder on myself.)

4. I hold my own shit. Crack is not weed and no one will get a nod and a wink from the cops if it's in their possession. That means you car or house. If the house or apartment are in your name, YOU take the fall. Trust me on that one.
5. I don't steal from my friends. I've never done this, but there have been times the thought has crossed my mind.
There is a qualifier to this:
I have stolen crack from other crack smokers and crack dealers. There are dangers in that of itself, but such is the life and culture of a crackhead.

Harm Reduction in regards to myself:
1. I have a trusted friend hold my money. Calls for a few dollars are done only in case of a non-crack emergency or a regularly scheduled setting to limit my use.
2. I make sure all financial responsibilities are covered and paid before I buy any drugs. Once I'm high all common sense and logic in regards to those life necessities goes out of the window. Actually money is a big trigger and it does take much self discipline to get those things paid before buying my crack at check time.
3. I don't do credit with the crack dealer.
4. I avoid if at all possible having other crack smokers in my home. Many of them are thieves and will steal your stuff then help you look for it...

I live alone now and the world is a happier place because of that fact. Being a crackhead and developing skills as a master of manipulation has led to my wives, and room mates either leaving or eventually kicking my sorry ass out. The amazing part is that I've found myself working someone to feed my habit and I wasn't even aware of it until it was too late. Manipulation is like breathing for a crackhead.

I now keep people at a distance. The long term outcome is better for them and me as well. Loneliness and boredom are triggers for me, but fucking up someones life would cause them as well as myself much grief.

With all that said, I can only hope you do some Harm Reduction for your protection. First and foremost is to not be enticed in any measures to use with your friend. The results would be disastrous for both of you.

Trust me on that.

If money and property disappear or strange people start showing up at your home, I would probably encourage you to either leave or have your friend move out.

I hope this helps.

I've been frustrated and disappointed

2010-10-21T11:23:00.005-04:00

But I did go more than one day without a hit.

Well, actually five days is even better than none. Better is better and all that stuff, but I have to work on improving that. Tuesday and Wednesday had me with a pipe in my mouth. So I have to stay on course and avoid distractions. Getting myself focused on doing things that have been beneficial in the past. Working on things that distract me from using and taking care of me.

One of the ways I have improved upon that of course is pouring out what is going on with me onto this blog. Not entertaining people, who I suspect may well be a crazy as me. Seriously.

The thing is that people like me, or them or a lot of us must have this radar or magnet that draws us to each other in some fashion. The other option is that some of these well meaning but crazy people think they have some mystical power to cure my crazy ass. One more reason I am happy to keep people at arms length or further. They're safe and I can be a semi-hermit. The world will be a happier place.

Maybe it's because I just don't like people. Actually keeping people away may well be because I like them too much. Like W.C. Fields liked children, "medium rare."

There is only one person who can achieve whatever these people think can be done. That is the responsibility of the Erie Crackhead. Well meaning people who act that way frankly piss me off. They, for some reason think they possess more wisdom, power and the ability to persuade than the thousands upon thousands of dollar spent on therapists, shirks and counselors of many stripes.

The other thing I've been seeing lately is people inquiring about the recipe for insanity. The question is usually phrased along the lines of "how do you make cocaine smokeable" or just simply "How do you make crack." Why would someone who doesn't have an interest in smoking crack ask this question?

Curiosity killed the cat, smoking crack only made him deader. To the world, to his interests, to his friends, to his family and eventually to himself. If you've never smoked the shit don't start. It always begins as a case of wanting to know how it feels. That's where I started.

Just to see what it feels like.

It took a year, but in that time it went from 6 months, to 3 months, to once a week to almost daily to doing it places and at times I promised myself I would never smoke that shit. All in an effort to replicate that feeling of that very first hit. I'm not alone in that experience of sliding down into the depths of this particular version of hell. But there are people who think they are too smart, too cool, too strong or just plain too old to get addicted to that poison.

Fuck that shit!

And yes, that started back when you had to cook up your own shit to smoke. So chemistry lessons, taught to me by a crackhead with an 8th grade education, are not going to be passed on to anyone. Don't ask because I ain't telling.

I have had conversations with more than one other user. Basically, with a few exceptions, to turn someone on to this poison is the equivalent of spiritual murder. That is the only way I know how to phrase it. Not an option for me to do that to someone.

One other thing. There are people who haven't had a hit in years and the shit is still hollering at them. Not a gentle whisper in their ear, but an out and out screaming that's saying "Come out and play, motherfucker! We're gonna have a good time!" I can make no judgement about someone who has smoked starting up again. They know the risks, what they can lose and where crack can take them.

Their brain, like mine has a few short circuits. For some reason our brains shuts down when it comes to considering the downside of hitting a pipe.

For me, it scares me. It points out the statistics of success and failure. It shows me what my chances are of accumulating time away from my last hit. It also makes me practice with more vigor the part of my "Harm Reduction" plan to do no harm to others.

So for those of you who read this blog because you find entertaining, witty or humorous, go find a humor site, where someone is truly trying to lighten your spirits.

This place is for serious shit to make in some measure my life a bit better and not to fuck up someone else's existence.

Better is Better.

And if I have offended someone, maybe they needed to be offended.

One day of doing the right thing.

2010-10-16T13:23:00.005-04:00

Well mostly the right thing.

It's just that I had the opportunity to ease more cash from my neighbor. He came by for coffee yesterday. He actually came to retrieve his bottle and then started on that as well as some coffee. He needed to get some supplies, so the help of another neighbor was enlisted.

We have a neighborhood in a sense and we do look out for each other in a manner. Don and me both have some disabilities. His afflictions come and go with the amount of vodka in his system, but I try not to be to judgemental. What sense would it make. He is doing what he wants to do and maybe someday he'll say,"This is enough of this shit."

But there are a couple of neighbors that look out for us, especially Don, to make sure he doesn't fall and get hurt. Occasionally errands to the store or running something up or down some stairs. These are things that they can do in the time it takes Don or I to think about what needs to be done.

For that we are both thankful for their help. We'll share some beer, vodka, smokes, food or whatever with them in appreciation.

Anyway, when our neighbor comes over to grab the money to make his purchases, it turns out he has a fifty in his pocket. My freakin' stomach went into a twist. He's drinking and starting to get pretty donkey faced by the time our friend returned. I wanted to say, "Hey, can you spare a few dollars for a little while again.?" I bit my lip, so to speak and kept my mouth shut.

I also got him out the door before he made the suggestion himself.

This does not mean that I will be canonized for sainthood. I just did something I should have done a long time ago. Didn't play him and got him out of the place before he was drunk enough to start throwing money at me.

So, if I can do that once, just maybe I'll be able to do that again.

Again it must be mentioned that I am no saint. As he did have cash for enough booze to keep him through the beginning of the week, I drank the vodka that was being kept in reserve in case of an emergency. It's not too bad if you cut it with cranberry drink. Chances are pretty good he'll be by today or tomorrow, so I can rebuild that stash to stave off his DTs.

There is no perfection in this strategy, but "Better is Better."

I need to make some changes

2010-10-14T11:51:00.004-04:00

Trying to practice Harm Reduction is a bitch at times.

My neighbor stops by with a plastic 1/2 gallon of swill. He's already half in the bag, as he's been sippin' from the liquor store on his way back home. He calls from a store, asking if I still needed some batteries, and I did, so he picks them up for me. A buck for a pack of four double As. Can't beat that with a stick. OK, pick 'em up for me.

I didn't think he was already screwed up, as he sounded OK on the phone. I did know he was going for more booze, but thought he would wait until he at least got here before starting to sip.

Wrong.

He comes to the door and looks OK, but then sets the bottle down on the table and says, "Take a little slurp." I did, a little bit. But not much. What wasn't drunk was put away, so when he's out of booze and broke, at least there be a pint or so here to keep him from going over the edge.

Ain't I a freakin' saint?

No, not really.

So he's drinking that shit like it's water and gets to the point where I need help to make sure he gets inside his place without falling and getting hurt. My next door neighbor, once again has to be enlisted for that duty. He is also nice about it all, but I'm certain it gets on his nerves as much as I feel shitty about having to ask for his help.

Being the crackhead I also borrowed a few bucks from him. Well, when drunk he almost throws money at me. Is that an excuse for taking money from him. No, not really, especially considering that I owe him already for money advanced over the past couple of weeks. Also when he hands me that cash, as soon as he leaves, the call to the Dude is made.

It's going to get to the point where my monthly funds may end up going to him to repay his cash advances if I'm not careful. That's not good. I've been there in different ways in the past and it has always come back to bite me in the ass. That could well put me into the same position I was in a year ago when this blog was started.

So some changes are in order. I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to do, but it may well mean that I will have to be unavailable when Don wants to come over and drink.

Yeah, it's nice to have a little company once in a while. The problem is the costs of that company are starting to mount up. To be honest, when he is drunk he's not all that much good company anyway. Something needs to be done or there could be trouble in the future. For both my neighbor and myself.

Neither of us is in a position to get too deeply into a hole.

So, some changes have to be made and that means a plan needs to be in place. It might mean following the theme of an old tune, "It's Cruel to Be Kind." It has served it's purpose in the past, and some people don't like me much because of that strategy, but it has worked in the past.

Sadly, it does indeed work.

Until something better comes to mind, being a somewhat of a prick is going to have to do the job.

The thing is if you don't have a plan, you don't have shit.

It's been a little different around here.

2010-10-13T10:16:00.001-04:00

Not in a bad way, but then again not in an entirely good way either.

Perhaps the the changing of the seasons. Weather is, as usual for this time of the year, going downhill. Not that I'm expecting a major snow storm, but weirder weather events have happened. I was living in Buffalo and on October 12, 2006. That was a nightmare!

The pictures here look very much like the neighborhood where my house was located.

Anyway, the fallout of that storm for me was an excuse to go on about a 5 day crack run. That had me in a psych ward for three days. It wasn't as bad as all that, so far as the hospital stay was concerned. My ticket in was the hallucinating I was doing. It may have been more from a lack of sleep rather than the actual ill effects of the cocaine.

I think.

Today things are much, much better and soon I'll have my neighbor over for some coffee. No vodka, thank you very much! Then again it might even be too early in the day for him to be drinking. All things considered though, I'm happy to have a bit of company and if he's sober, which was the impression I got from his phone call, he'll be fairly decent company for a short while.

So, today is better and "Better is Better!"

It's Sunday.

2010-10-10T16:12:00.002-04:00

It's also a beautiful day out there, but I haven't stepped outside yet. And considering the time it's getting to be, it doesn't look like I'll make it out today.

Yesterday was a great day on many levels. One thing is that I got out and was taken for a ride to enjoy the day. We rode out Rt. 5 east from Erie to Buffalo. For those of you unfamiliar with this part of the world, there are miles of vineyards between here and there. At this time of the year the air smells of Concord grapes as well.

As a bonus, it seems the leaves are starting to turn out that way and there are also spectacular views of lake Erie along the road. We made it all the way to the Reservation and picked up enough smokes to keep me coughing until November.

Then some groceries were bought and I settled in for a quiet Saturday night, watching old British comedies on the local PBS station. Got a dose of Red Green as well. If I get enough money to buy a case of Duct Tape, I am going to raise handyman hell.

I am proud of myself on one front. I picked up some stuff for my neighbor Don, who as I had mentioned earlier, I owed money. So a 1/2 gallon of his favorite plastic bottled poison and a couple of grocery items and he was happy. He said hang onto the other $20 I had for him, so I did.

I also made a call, but hey I'm a crackhead.

So I smoked what turned out to be pretty shitty crack and also smoked a little weed. But no vodka in the mix and that was a good thing. Trust me, vodka added to all that other shit and I do become an instant asshole.

I recently read that the addition of alcohol is more of an excuse and not the reason to turn into an asshole. While written in that scholarly style that researchers and reporters for various technical and trade magazines, the article basically says if you an asshole drunk, you may well be one sober as well.

There are people who will vote yes in regards to me on that proposition.

And no, I really don't need an online poll on that subject.

I'm sitting in the library.

2010-10-07T15:11:00.003-04:00

And the change of scenery is wonderful. Sitting in my apartment is depressing at times, even with all the distractions which I have to occupy myself.

Yesterday my neighbor came by with his bottle and a few bucks. He asks me if I want to borrow some money so I can get some crack. I do what all crackheads do when faced with that offer. I took his money.

Now, let's get one thing completely straight here. I am going to pay my friend back every nickle. Besides he has a mind for money, how much he's owed, how much he owes and everyone involved in those transactions. That ability has proven itself regardless of how fucked up drunk he is. I mean the guy has handed me $20.00 then immediately passed out on my kitchen floor, and pisses his pants, wakes up after I've smoked all my crack and stagger to his apartment.

He'll ask a few days later if I was paying him back that twenty on Saturday or Monday. Money is coming Saturday, Don. Not that I would cheat him for the few dollars he lends. It just isn't enough to create problems over.

On the other hand I know crackheads that would beat you for your last 5 bucks if they could. That's how stupid their mind gets when things get rolling and they are crazy craving just one more hit. Then that one more hit turns into another just one more hit and that shit can last for days.

It's amazing how far a crackhead can go with little resources and a jones to keep them running. Many years ago, when I was in Florida to "recover" I went out with $47.00 and managed to stay high for 3 days. I had help with that, a vehicle to get around in and other crackheads who knew people who knew people who...

And the most I'm going to say about that is at least one crack dealer got beat for more than a few bucks worth of shit.

But today is the first nice, sunny, almost warm day we have had in Erie for it seems nearly a week. I'm out amongst people, getting some fresh air and not really caring a wit at the moment for a hit.

Things change, but at the moment things are good...

Or as my friend says, Better is Better. And it certainly is today!

I have a cold.

2010-10-03T19:45:00.002-04:00

I can hear the "Oh, you poor thing," all the way over here.

Well, maybe not.

But the thing is that I am feeling like crap and don't have my heart in writing in this blog. I have also discovered that blogging my experiences, both good and bad, has been falling behind in some respects. Part of it is having my attention diverted from what really is the most important aspect of my life.

That would be what I am or am not doing in regard to crack, how much I'm consuming and things I have been doing to continually limit that intake.

I did get gifted with a few hits last Friday. Not a lot and it may have been a mistake inviting that crackhead into my home. Time will tell, but in the future I will be a bit more cautious about who gets in or who doesn't. It may have been a ploy by that smoker to start a fire so I might buy more to feed him later. Too bad for him that I was broke.

Anyway, I'm not feeling all that well, so I think I'll just leave what has been written so far be just that.

Better is better...even with my nose running like a leaky facet.

Drip, drip, drip...

I am getting a little nervous

2010-09-26T22:50:00.004-04:00

The reason is that as time goes by who I really am is becoming less of a mystery to those who read this blog. The sanctity of what I first found here with my anonymity is slowly eroding. More people are finding out who I am in real life.

That frightens me for a lot of reasons.

Like walking down the street someday and having someone holler out, "Hey! Crackhead, what's up." When I would drive through the crack neighborhoods looking to score, somebody would yell out my real name. That bothered me, but now it's seems I've become a little more sensitive about blowing my cover.

The thing is that almost everyone who knows who I am also knows what I am.

But another part of it all is letting anyone get too close to me. The fear in that is that I have this feeling that letting anyone too close to me is putting those folks in some jeopardy. So I keep to myself or just do things that will keep people at a safe distance. Weirdness or rudeness can be an effective tool at times.

It's just that so many people have been hurt and I really don't want that on my conscience. Sadly, there are those who truly believe I have no conscience at all.

I think I do, but I'm a poor judge of my own character.

Also, this has not been a great weekend for me. I did smoke up what was left of my on hand cash Friday night. I was down on Saturday and asked my friend who keeps my money to pick up my scripts for me. I was that nervous about blowing more money, so I actually asked for help.

Trust me on this much, that's a biggie for me.

I would like to think of myself as an independent person. In many cases that is far from the truth. I depend on a few people for help with various odds and ends required to live a comfortable life. Not in a financial sense, but in getting to places for supplies to get me through the month. Or in having some services put in their name instead of mine.

Well, I'm a crackhead with a credit score in negative numbers but I am paying my own way.

So, I knew it would be a matter of time before people starting putting things together. Many of those who know the real me found out about this blog from me and others have been pretty good at adding 2+2. Despite that this is an effort to let people know that a crackhead's life isn't all that rosey. Even with my seriously reduced consumption of crack, it's still a dismal existence, thankfully there are a few bright spots. I'll take all of those that come my way.

But if you see me on the street someday, a simple "HI!" would work just fine. Maybe then both of our days might be brightened for a little while.

Because...Better is Better.

A year ago today.

2010-09-23T22:32:00.002-04:00

Yep. It's been a year to the day that I returned to Erie, PA.

In a sense that return was a bit with my tale between my legs. The other part was that I probably was homesick for my hometown. Yeah, that is a big part of that decision to return here.

The fact that I ran up a big bill with a few of crack dealers just greased the rails.

A lot.

After blowing what money I did have over the course of a few days, I got a bed at the City Mission. A roof over my head for at least 45 days if no rules were broken. Breakfast in the morning and the day to myself to do what I want to do.

Going to the library became a nearly daily activity.

After being here for about 3 weeks, this blog was started. Without going over all the details, I'll just say it's been an interesting year. Certainly there have been some improvements in my life since arriving back in Erie a year ago. No major set backs have occurred, although I am still hitting the pipe.

Which I did yesterday and the day before.

None today, but maybe tomorrow.

And maybe not.

No computer

2010-09-18T14:29:00.002-04:00

At the moment my computer is indeed in the shop.

So knowing the resources available to me, I'm back at the library. No surprise really, as this is exactly where I was located when the idea of blogging came to me. Not an original idea to be sure, but it's seems to have worked for me to some measure.

Damned - Always with the qualifiers.

The computer, with a hopeful upgrade in RAM, as well as having the hard drive scrubbed, sanitized and all that good stuff is probably going to cost $100.00. That will be $100.00 that the Dude doesn't get, and that is a measure to some of my success.

Not too very long ago, I may well have said "FUCK IT" as this would have deprived me of some crack. A small victory of sorts, but a victory nonetheless.

That laptop, in many respects has kept me sane. I has also kept me from using to a degree. Not complete abstinence, but it has helped to slow the pace. So that is indeed part of the "Better is Better" scheme of things.

As I am now at the library, there is a small benefit from the fact that the computer isn't in my house. I'm outside dammit! That may be the biggest drawback for having it all to available. But from my point a view, my apparent isolation is indeed a problem of prosperity. When I was on the edge of homeless, living in the shelter, I was a regular here.

When I come in here now, a lot of the faces have changed. I really don't have to retrain the staff, but there was a moment when I wanted to point out the rules to a library patron about the use of cell phones in the computer lab. When I gave them the "look" they looked at me like I was the crazy one here.

Shit, don't they know who I think I am?

I really want to get toasted.

2010-09-15T10:07:00.002-04:00

Really!

I did smoke crack on Friday and on Saturday as well. And the stuff is now out of my system so far as the actual drug and related metabolites that have been swimming around in my blood stream. The let down from using has passed and I am not all that depressed at the moment.

Well, certainly not as depressed as I felt Sunday and Monday.

The way I felt those two days was the "I really don't even want to get out of bed" type of depressed feeling. I also did drink some of my neighbors vodka on those two occasions that crack was being ingested as well. That only seems to compound the problem, so no more of that shit.

We'll see if that sticks.

A little weed on Saturday, essentially roaches and a few small buds I found after doing a bit of cleaning up around here helped a little. But over those two days little gave me joy of any sort.

Even the Steelers overtime win didn't do much for my disposition.

That's scary.

Some online conversations with online friends did lighten my mood to a certain degree, but my tolerance for online conversations tends to be short at times. Especially when I'm not in a proper frame to enjoy the jokes and witticisms that fly back and forth.

To those who endured my bad puns, silly jokes and at times outright obnoxiousness,

THANK YOU!

But at this moment, and actually for the past two days I have wanted to get high. Not smoking weed, but taking some big hits on a crack pipe. And as I have mentioned in the past, these cravings don't pass in a half hour as some experts would like you to believe.

They wax and wane, the cravings that is, but never really go away. Always a bit of tugging and twisting in my gut, at the back of my mind, always talking to me, tapping me on the shoulder, whispering in my ear. Nudging, cajoling, helping me figure out that if I did this and then that happened I might have enough cash on hand for a twenty or so.

But right now, I ain't using. Right now my resolve not to make a call to get a couple of bucks from my "banker" is stronger than the fucking crack whispering to me. Next week it'll be a whole new story with the cravings there as well, but next week things will be too easy to keep me from making the call.

So, now the usual process of preparing is starting. You know, lists and other things that will ensure at least my roof, my food and other basic requirements are met. I have to get my house in order so that I can't tear it down, as has happened in the past. In reality I am more nervous of possible outcomes than I am after the shit has hit the fan.

But today I'm really glad in a way that I haven't sufficient cash on hand to get a rock. The reason I'm glad is quite simple. I really want to get toasted.

Makes perfect sense to me.

A typical crackless day.

2010-09-08T11:20:00.004-04:00

As a matter of fact most days are without crack. Not that the thought of doing a hit is ever far away, but that's part of the deal.

Right?

After a night of frequently interrupted sleep, which has much to do with my physical condition and age, I reluctantly roll my butt out of bed. Caffeine, another of my drugs of choice, is a necessity along with enough nicotine to get the motor started. The coffee is usually strong enough to allow a spoon to stand up in it.

Today they say that caffeine is good, but that could change tomorrow. I have yet to see any positive reports for nicotine though. Of the 64 ounces that the pot will hold, I will probably drink at least half of that amount. My neighbor Don will sometimes come by and have a cup. He has never gone beyond that one cup, as he says that my brew is strong stuff and any more than a cup gives him the jitters.

I really don't buy that crap that the coffee is making him shaky, but that's on him. It would be nice if his sense of self control could be transferred to the amount of vodka he drank, but that ain't gonna' happen. When he comes over and isn't jittery is because he's already had an eye opener.

He does make good company when he's not totally shit faced.

I turn on this computer and see if there are any interesting emails, posts or news of importance that has taken place. I check out the social networks and check for information on my concerns, which of late have centered around MM. I check this blog for comments and reply if the feedback warrants a response.

Quiet often the comments do provide me with insights others have of my situation and suggestions to consider. There are times that more effort is put into responding to the comments as is put into writing a new post. Some posts are in response to a comment.

I have this strange quirk about censorship and I don't think I have deleted a comment yet. Even a spammer's comment, posting a link to some vacation site stayed. I did gently explain that the Erie Crackhead had no funds to travel to those places, so maybe that internet hustler got the message.

If something is bugging me or I just need to vent, I post an entry here as well.

As much as I try, spending less than 4 or 5 hours on the computer doesn't happen too often. Besides, other than returning books to the library or the occasional trip to the food banks, there isn't a whole lot to pull me away from doing what I do on the internet. It's also a damned sight more productive than staring at the TV like a zombie.

Besides, who wants to watch the likes of Mike Wilcos destroy what's left of the little self respect his guests have on national TV?

So after I've sated my computer jones, I try to get out for a bit, which seems to be less and less lately. Reading a book, which I am falling behind on my reading, might occupy some time as well. The other thing is that I might take a nap. Sleepless nights make that activity a necessity at times. Troubling are the days that naps are taken to just make the time pass by.

Troubling even more are the days I'll go to bed very early at night just to end a day quicker.

Later in the day, I figure out what sounds good to eat and end up having what's easiest to prepare. Cooking is something I have to be in a mood for, and sometimes cooking for one is a pain in the ass. There are those times when I do invite my neighbors over for a meal. Partly because I've made enough food to feed an army and partly for a bit of company to help me pass the time.

My neighbors are not your typical mainstream folks. They, by and large, live on the fringes of our society. That does not mean they are outlaws or misfits, but they do have interesting viewpoints and opinions on what goes on around us. Conversations with my neighbors are enlightening at times, when those conversations are not fueled by too much booze or smoke.

I don't know if they have learned anything from me, but I have certainly learned much from them.

I am also grateful that none of my neighbors are crack smokers. One crackhead in this building is more than enough, thank you.

Most days are without much company and then I will turn on the television. Watching the news. Local news, then the network news. After that the News Hour on PBS. If something else is interesting to me, I may watch. More often or not though, the TV is just making background noise while I either read or sit in front of the computer once more.

There are those evenings when friends made on FaceBook or another networking site I visit will exchange banter back and forth. A chance to be funny, witty or maybe just talk about the weather in many ways brightens what is usually a dull and boring day. There are also folks who are in many ways, just like me. We talk about what going on good in our lives. We talk about what is not going good in our lives. We also exchange our own little brand of gallows humor.

My wish is that they have enjoyed talking with me as much as I have enjoyed talking with them. It's also my hope that their lives are more fulfilling than mine seems to me at times.

Then it's time to close the doors, turn off this machine and the TV. I turn out the lights and settle in for a hopefully good night sleep.

Makes ya' wanna' run right out and look for a crack dealer, doesn't it?

Some people get it...

2010-09-06T14:29:00.002-04:00

Yes, there are people who do get it, and get what I am trying to do with this blog.

When you click on the title, you'll see why in many respects I am surprised at some comments and reactions I have gotten because of this blog. It's that stigma thing that junkies, crack heads and your down and dirty drunks have to carry around with themselves. It's theirs as well as my cross to bear.

Let me start out by saying that whatever it is that I may be or have or whatever the correct or fashionable thing to say is, I am not contagious. You will not be doomed to a life of hustling, conniving, deceiving or stealing to keep the flow of crack coming your way. Exchanging emails, IMs, phone calls or even hanging out with me will not put you in any sort of jeopardy to smoke crack or do anything that one really wouldn't want to do.

It is also understood that I won't even consider turning someone onto that poison. It wouldn't matter how much money you brought with you or how much you insist that it would not effect you negatively. It would in some measure fuck up your life, trust me on that one.

Most crack smokers look at that the same as I.

This blog though has helped to some degree in weakening that stigma associated with crackheads. At least it seems that way to this crackhead. This is not a one man crusade to redeem all crackheads everywhere. This is not even a crusade for redemption of this crackhead.

It is though a means of letting people know what life is like for someone with apparently deep seeded dependency issues when it comes to this drug. Erie Crackhead is also trying to do this as honestly as he knows. No glamorization, no details on how to score, no war stories that at times make me want to go out and get a rock. Actually, war stories are one of the reasons I no longer attend 12 step meetings.

If there has been any dishonesty in this blog, it's been more of the lies through omission sort of thing. Part of that is for the readers protection and to be perfectly honest, part is for my protection. Also putting too much out there may be harmful to some who have never, and may never read this blog.

But the nicest things experienced from this undertaking and the modest way that this blog has been "promoted" has been from the people who have taken the time to see who it is that is really peeking out from behind the curtain. The kindness, the caring, the encouragement and the humor folks have brought to me have been more helpful than many of the hours spent with most therapists.

I am grateful for those who have been able to look beyond the label and to see the person.

Now about this honesty stuff. I haven't taken a hit since last Thursday. Before you start patting me on the back, it should also be mentioned that I did get ripped off yesterday trying to get a small package. So, it is more by accident than by design that I did not get high yesterday.

That's sometimes how it goes when you're a crackhead.

It could have been better.

2010-09-01T08:55:00.003-04:00

But it can always get worse.

Yesterday and the day before caught me with a crack pipe in my mouth. This is just another proof that excess money in my hands will disappear before it even has time to find it's way into my pocket. Or for that matter money that could be used for something besides crack.

Which brings me to a question asked by a commenter on Friday, August 27th blog entry. The anonymous commenter asked:

"Just wondering, what is the most amount of sober days have you been able to string together?"

To be completely honest, I'm not entirely certain of the correct answer. I guess as a generalization it might be correct to say about six or seven days in a row is probably my best. There may have been a time or two when a couple of weeks or more may have passed. Mostly those longer stretches were because no immediate money was at hand and no other resources to trade were available to buy any crack.

I know there have been times, while in rehab or otherwise restricted that close to 90 days had elapsed before using. It should also be noted that there were also long stretches where I used some almost every day. The thing is though, over the past 6 months or so, I have used many less days than I have used. Many less days have found me doing a hit and that is something that makes me happy.

And thankful.

Because in many respects I would like to take sole credit for those straight days, but I had help. Did I fall down on my knees and ask God to remove this obsession? Naw, besides God did not put a crack pipe in my hand the first time I took a hit, so why ask Him to take it away? It's not His fault or problem.

Besides, I went down that road before, and faith healing don't work.

The successes I have gained have been from the help of real breathing live people, who for whatever reason have decided to lend a hand. It has also been due to the help of people who have corresponded with me through email lists and social networks that the Erie Crackhead has gotten involved with.

Harm Reduction techniques have also minimized complications that could drag me deeper down the rabbit hole. With that in mind, yes things could be much worse.

Yes, Better is Better...

Nothing of any note occurred.

2010-08-27T08:41:00.002-04:00

So far as it goes it has been nearly normal in may regards.

Did I smoke crack? Yes, I did. Did I get money put away? Yes to that as well. As a matter of fact, bit more was put away this month than in previous months. $100.00 more is $100.00 not spent with the Crack Man.

The usual challenges that face me on a daily basis are still there to be dealt with. Cleaning, laundry, getting groceries from the market as well as from the food pantries still need to done. Getting to the library, which I used to do on almost a daily basis, is now a once a week trip.

This virus ridden computer is part of what keeps me in to a certain degree, but other issues have kept me from traveling outside as much as before. Both matters concerning physical health as well as moderate depression keep me from reaching for the door as often as before.

In many respects things are getting better and with that I'm pleased.

Because "Better is Better."

It's money day.

2010-08-24T09:45:00.003-04:00

Not officially but in fact the cash does flow into my account in about 2 hours.

I have to get very busy now, as there is housework that must be completed. The list of bills to be paid must be completed as well. I will not step outside of this house until that is complete and money orders are bought and filled out. I don't want to be cashing those in before they get stuffed safely away in the mailbox.

Even now as I sit here tapping on the keyboard, my mind is racing. You have to do this and that, and Oh yeah, this needs to be done as well. All these, unspecified chores, errands and obligations need to be completed before I can even think about calling the Dude.

The fact is though, I'm thinking about when I can make that call.

To those of you who think this whole thing is fucked up, in many respects I agree. It's just that it's even more so from my perspective. It's scary, frightening, exciting and gut wrenching all at one time. Just Say No doesn't cut it at all either. This is not a 30 minute thing. It hangs in there for hours, and indeed at times it's digging away inside of me for days.

Wish me luck and I'll report back when I get to the other side of this. Erie Crackhead (Cracker) will probably still be lurking on FB, he will probably even post to some support email lists he belongs to as well. So, it's not as though I'll entirely disappear from sight.

It's just that I won't be all there either.

I may be an activist...

2010-08-21T19:12:00.003-04:00

But, I am still a crackhead.

Thursday found me with an unexpected $30.00.

What does a crackhead do with unexpected money. Well, he buys crack with it.

So I did.

Yesterday, thanks to my neighbor, found me with another $20.00. True to my twisted way of looking at the world, I bought a twenty piece with that as well.

So, while not a success in regards to holding money and not buying crack with it, things could have been worse. I was actually pretty loaded on Friday night, but not so much as to get into too awful much trouble. Just the usual obnoxious self that I am when toasted. No one gets too insulted or upset, but then again they might be too polite to say they were insulted.

Labeled mostly harmless and a bit funny when I'm high.

Not from the crack, but more from the booze and pot.

But a bit of vodka before fueled my wanting to get a rock. A bit of weed afterwards eased the jones when the crack was finished. A little more vodka and trying my best to be a polite host and later a polite guest at my other neighbors home kept me from getting into too much trouble. Emily Post and Miss Manners (Judith Martin) both would have had a heart attacks though.

At least I didn't get punched.

Now is the time where lists need to be made. Bills again, that have to be paid including some mounting expenses for medical crap. Food shopping happens as well, and I need to inventory more carefully as there is now more than I can use that hopefully won't spoil before it's used.

With that said, it's been one step forward and two steps back. It could well be that that is the way it will always be, but there is one thing that is always in the back of my mind.

I just have to keep walking.

An Activist?

2010-08-19T09:38:00.002-04:00

Well, that the way some perceive me on FaceBook.

And what the hell is Erie Crackhead doing on FaceBook in the first place?

The reason for that was to increase exposure for this blog. It is a way to get my message out to a few more poor fools who are in my shoes. It was also thought that more exposure would increase comments, good and bad that could be used to help himself. It was a way to connect to others as well.

Erie Crackhead needs friends too, you know.

Now there are over 100 FB friends connected to Erie Cracker. While some of his friends there have thousands, yes, thousands of friends, I am surprised at the acceptance EC has gotten there. I also think if many of the people who have friended EC on FaceBook read this blog, many would be un-friending in a heart beat.

In truth a few people have said they have no interest in being friends with a crackhead. Who can blame them in some respects. But one also has to consider that in another respect, we may both be losing something and that's a shame.

What are we losing? Well the chance to learn from each other for starters.

But what has happened is that my FB friends started to be people I know from Harm Reduction and those who are involved in Drug and Alcohol counseling. Some of these people know exactly who I am and as mentioned before, could pick me out of a police lineup. Now many of their friends are involved in one way or another in marijuana activism.

I guess Harm Reduction advocates supplied many of the initial contacts with those activists. They do come in many stripes, from patients who use MM and live in MM states or places where MM is something before legislative bodies and they are trying to gather support. Then there are supporters of decriminalization or the complete legalization of weed.

Then there are some friends that are really companies, growers and suppliers of paraphernalia who are trying to position themselves for the day when pot does eventually become legal in some measure. Whether for medical purposes or recreational purposes, they want to have made those social contacts to eventually or in some cases today to sell their products.

I may not live to see that, but it is going to happen.

Here I am though, advocating for medical marijuana on many links that flow through FB. I call the place "Short Attention Span Theater" as things fly through so quickly at times you miss some important stuff. In some respects the Information Superhighway gone mad.

Information overload is a kind way of putting it.

So as friends, both requests made by me and requests I've received, have started to accumulate the majority are activists for MM in one way or another. Comments I've made have also been noticed and have to some degree have been favorably accepted.

Why is this happening?

In part because I am using weed as a Harm Reduction tool in my own struggles with crack. There have been beneficial and positive results from that use. The other part is that in any state that now has legal Medical Marijuana a doc could write a recommendation for me without one speck of doubt as to my need. In that regard it has made some parts of my life a bit more tolerable.

So it's only natural that my involvement has evolved. It works for me, and it may work for you, but everyone is different in their reaction to any medication. Whether it comes from a plant or a drug company, that statement is truth. Don't believe me? Read the labels.

While commenting, urging a bit of common sense to the argument, injecting my own twisted sense of humor or just chatting with people there, as well friending and the other stuff that happens on FB, there is something that bothers me a bit. Am I a credible advocate for something that has helped me to some degree?

I mean, what does a crackhead know?

It's Tuesday

2010-08-17T10:53:00.003-04:00

The day after Monday and the day before Wednesday.

There are a lot of people out there who are moaning that it's gonna' be forever before Friday shows up around here. I don't have that problem as every day is the same as the other. With the possible exception of what the weather is like outside, it's all the same to me. Well almost all the same.

There are some subtle differences that are worth noting. Like Tuesdays and Thursday are the days for the City Mission food bank. Friday is St. Paul's food bank day. I don't go to the food banks as often as I have in the past. Spending less money on crack has meant more for the real necessities of life.

Like food, for instance.

Wednesdays are the days when the Erie Art Museum has it's outdoor, free lunch time concerts. One Wednesday a month, usually the last one is when the Erie Philharmonic has the Hot Dog and Classics concerts in front of the Warner Theater. The Warner is a beautiful place that also holds many memories for me from my childhood and beyond. From movies to concerts, like the Beach Boys, The Guess Who and The Moody Blues.

I've never heard the Philharmonic play there though and someday I intend to do just that.

Saturdays and Sundays are still kind of laid back days. As if all my days weren't laid back days, but with curtailed bus service and little else going on there is little reason to venture outside. Except when there is a festival of some sorts going on in the area. This week will be Celebrate Erie days. The high point for me will be the fireworks.

And they are free!

So, a few dollars are in my pocket. No crack has been smoked in a few days now as well. Life isn't perfect, but who's life is perfect anyway? The thing is that small improvements are being made. While maybe not quick enough in the measure of someone else, but I am happy with the direction things are going so far. Things may well change tomorrow, but that will be worried about at that time.

After all, Better is Better and that's my Gold Standard.

Guess what!?!?

2010-08-15T11:15:00.004-04:00

I have money in my pocket and haven't called the Dude!

I am being a little disingenuous as what I have available isn't quite enough to buy a twenty. But with a little effort, the extra 5 bucks or so needed could be scrapped together. Laundry money, a couple of bucks from Don or just playing the dealer a bit could get me a bit of a buzz.

But not today kids.

I am feeling a bit cranky, as the chronic pain that plagues me is really biting me. Biting me right in the ass and thigh and calf and toes. Worse than most days, but certainly not as bad as it may eventually become. Wonderful stuff to consider.

Not.

But what I will be doing, as I have been for the past few days, is to stay as comfortable as possible. So wandering down to the park today is not in the cards. Moving for that matter will be kept to a bare ass minimum. Trips to the kitchen to check my crock pot turkey, using the john, adjusting fans to blow some cool air and keeping things like TV and DVD player remotes close at hand is the plan.

A few puffs of MM will make things a bit more tolerable and will facilitate my staying semi-vegged out to keep discomfort at bay. As with any medication there are trade-offs, but considering the other stuff prescribed by the docs, this seems to be working the best right now.

Why all this babbling about my physical condition right now?

Well, right now it's something that really has my attention. This type of pain does focus you, or perhaps more correctly diverts ones focus from other things. When it feels like you just took a pan of boiling water and poured it down your leg, you may have a picture of what this feels like.

On a scale from 1 to 10 it's been shooting up to 8 1/2 to 9.

But this is one thing that concerns me, and it wasn't apparent to me not too very long ago. The sorry fact of the matter, just as the weed distracts me form my discomfort, so does crack. Now, don't even think my mentioning this is a way of justifying my smoking crack. Besides, I don't smoke crack for physical pain relief.

So, why do I smoke that crap? The answers are as illusive to me as they are to those who know me.

OK...I'm gonna' look for some cheese to go with this whine.

A Pretty Good Day

2010-08-11T21:54:00.002-04:00

For a change it was a pretty good day for me as well.

It's been pretty warm and muggy for the past few days. It looks like this part of the world is going to be like that for the few days as well. While there is no air conditioning in my home, the fans placed around do make it somewhat comfortable.

I decided that spending time at the library would be a little more comfortable than sitting around here. Getting out and among people is also a good thing for the Erie Crackhead. I know that fact, it's been mentioned here before. Most importantly, people who know nothing of this blog or of my taste in recreational drugs urge me to get out more often.

So I did.

As always, it is a bit of an adventure to get out of this place. Why I don't do it more often is at times a mystery to me. Well, not a complete mystery, but more than few beautiful days have been wasted because of my reluctance to get my ass in gear. It could be added up to depression to some degree, physical discomfort and the hassle of just getting out that hold me back at times.

That's even a consideration when crack isn't involved at all as well.

But as mentioned before, getting out does supply a bit of adventure and little surprises that would never be experienced inside my coop. Today was no exception in that regard. As I cruise on down the street I always smile at the people who cross my path. Pretty ladies always get a bigger smile, as they should.

Getting on the trolley, there was a lady who was watching, from what I could get from the conversation, her two nephews. They had never been on a bus before and were full of questions. One was, "How does the driver know when we want to get off?" The curiosity of children has always amazed me and today's exposure to that was no exception.

When the trolley was close to the library, I asked the young lady in charge of the boys if they were getting off at that stop. No, they weren't. Oh, OK..I was going to let one pull the chord that rings the bell. I rang the bell and hopped off.

Thinking back, I should have just let one of the kids pull the chord.

Anyway, I returned my DVDs and picked out a couple of new ones. I also put in a reservation for a new DVD that is going to be available shortly. Continuing on I went to the second floor to play on their computers. What internet junkie is going to pass up playing in an air conditioned environment.

After running out of time at the library, I took the trolley to Mickey D's. that's my buddy Greg's hangout. I found out how well he knows the place. An employee was trying to help a woman, who appeared to be a outside salesperson of some sort, get set up with power for her laptop. McDonald's does have free WiFi, which is a fact filed away for later use.

Anyway, Greg had to point out where the power outlets were located to the employee. There are only two in the place and they are widely separated, but Greg had that fact down. The reason this surprised me is that Greg doesn't have a laptop or need of a power outlet for any other portable device he might possess. I think he has a cell phone for emergencies.

I'm almost sure that he doesn't buy enough Big Macs to be this knowledgeable about that place.

After shooting the breeze for awhile, I make my way out the door and continue up State Street. Looking around, you can see preparations underway for Erie Days, which is less than a week away. I do intend to make it that festival, as this will be the only time this year for me to see fireworks.

While watching them is great, I would rather be the guy who fires them off.

Cutting through the park, the usual suspects were there. Staking out spots, BSing with friends and watching the kids cooling off in the fountain. I haven't really checked out the farmer's market set up there yet, but they will be doing business until the snow falls around here.

Snow is a four letter word and should be miles from my thoughts on a day like today.

Anyway, a little tired and a little over heated from the weather, I made it back to my home without any negative consequences. I saw some things that I would have missed had I not gone out, I also had a chance to catch up with an old friend.

Sometimes adventures do not have drama, suspense or spectacular displays. Sometimes it's an adventure to wander around just to see what there is to see. And sometimes, well, most times, you learn something you didn't know and wouldn't have known if you stayed hiding away indoors.

Like where the power outlets are located at Mickey D's.

A little disappointed in myself

2010-08-09T12:37:00.003-04:00

Why? Oh why?

Well with the best of intentions I had planned to go to the Erie Art Museum's Blues and Jazz Fest. It didn't happen and the only one to blame is me. I could have gotten a ride from a friend who had even offered to take me. But it was early and I didn't want to spend the whole day at the park.

Besides, the better groups were going to be playing later in the day.

The way a crackhead's mind works is even a mystery to me at times. But this much is clear. I had money in my pocket. I did have enough money to pay off Don, my vodka swilling neighbor. So I did pay him, as he was in a position of needing the cash right when it showed up.

I did have enough money to go to the fest and buy a T-shirt, which I thought were cool this year. I also had enough money to buy some food from the vendors and have something to drink as well. I even had enough money to have taken a cab home after everything was all said and done.

As usual though the money went to the Crack Man.

I didn't even sip Don's rot gut to get the ball rolling. It's as though an automatic reaction to having cash on hand is to call the Dude. Not a good thing to be certain, but it's a characteristic of mine that really needs work.

To add insult to this all, the twenty I paid back to Don was re-borrowed yesterday.

One other thing. This is a biggy to boot. The dryer in my building isn't working.

Now I have a machine full of wet clothes, and that mean I'm going to have to turn my boxers inside out yet again.

Well, they're not sticky yet.

Vodka, Drunken Neighbors, and Cash Equals

2010-08-04T12:02:00.004-04:00

Crack.

Well, I am going to have to re-examine my motives for being nice when my neighbor shows up with his bottle. It seems a few sips and my crackhead brain starts working on getting Don to throw a few bucks my way for crack. He knows what I'm using the cash for and really doesn't care all that much. He knows he'll be repaid in a reasonable period of time and like he says, for him it's like "money in the bank."

But working him the way I do is just a variation on a theme. I have promised myself not to get involved with buying or getting crack on credit. Using Don and his loaned cash is the same thing as getting something from the Dude until next check time. This has gotten me into big, serious and possibly dangerous trouble in the past.

So, it's time to stop that little diversion of my neighbors funds from his pocket to mine.

Twenty bucks here and twenty bucks there can amount to my whole months income if this is let to continue in any way shape or form. Buying crack on credit, regardless of the source of that credit is not a good thing. That is a slippery slope to be avoided.

If it seems I'm repeating myself here, it's all for the good. To impress upon myself and anyone who is in a similar situation about what not to do. Lessons learned from the past that need to be taken to heart today.

Am I in deep debt with Don or anyone else?

No.

That's the point though, and that is the direction I should be striving to be headed. If I do cave in to that temptation it will be counter productive to my goals.

If you don't have the cash, just don't do it.

This ain't a Nike commercial.

Not quite out the other side.

2010-08-01T10:09:00.004-04:00

No sense laying blame on Don.

But his being drunk with money in his pocket does fire up my crackhead thinking. It works way faster than the fastest working Cray Super Computer. I can go from a spark of an idea to a formulated plan in the time it takes to get out of my chair. When it comes to getting money for a few hits, it's incredibly frightening how it all works out. It's almost like a reflex reaction rather than a thought out process.

Sharing a few shots of that nasty vodka doesn't slow down the process in the least. As a matter of fact, it does seem to increase the speed of the particular processes in my rewired mind.

So I get $50.00 in no time at all. It's a loan, not a gift from Don. I don't want gifts, or grants or any other form of subsidized funds for my crack research. Besides, it's not a legitimate research project by anyones stretch of the imagination.

So the call is made and the crack is delivered and I close my doors. Shutting out the rest of the world while engaging in a few hours of a chemical vacation.

Things are OK this morning, as plans to do productive things to improve my life are in the cards today.

Probably tomorrow as well.

Well, that's the plan anyway.

And out the other side.

2010-07-30T19:02:00.006-04:00

This time I came out the other side with a little less money and not too much wiser.

But that's all part of the deal. Now isn't it?

Yes, lists were made, food and other necessities purchased, money was certainly put away and bills were paid. Everything that needed to be done was done. Added to that was a medical procedure preformed on Tuesday. I'll just say that the medical thing created about two days of mild discomfort, but not too intolerable.

I have noticed a tendency to withdraw a bit more inside of my little cocoon. There have been a few, comfortable, dry, beautiful days that had most of the population going out to enjoy. I have, unless forced by sheer need, am hermitting myself away. Am I becoming agoraphobic?

Naw, not really.

Part of it is the physical aspects that make moving too far a pain. In a real sense it is painful to walk too awful far. I usually don't mind too much the trip once I get out, but it's the getting out that seems to take the effort. Part certainly is the uncomfortable feeling of running into people from my past life.

Or is that past lives?

Being a bit depressed, partly from the crack and not having any right now, could be responsible to a point. I've always been, despite my upbeat positive outward appearance, been mildly depressed. Well, occasionally crushingly depressed, but that is less frequent that it has been in the past.

Yes, I'm happy not to be that depressed. It was frightening.

Then again, I have been happier and crack is only part of that reason.

Some people has said that smoking weed has made them depressed. That certainly could be a part of the equation, and I'll have to keep track of those feelings in relation to the post. It is also said that weed does lower ambition and initiative. While I'm lazy by nature, it should also be noted that I did eventually get done tasks that need to be completed.

Not that any of the tasks to do are all the important to anyone but me.

But, in order to ensure that I have clean skivvies, I had better get with it.

Not too bright.

2010-07-24T10:45:00.003-04:00

Thursday night I wasn't too bright and was even less so last night.

Thursday I got a few bucks for odds and ends and used some to buy a 20 piece. It wasn't bad, but after it was gone, wanting more was nagging at me for the rest of the night. That was the worst of it. No IBI lurking outside my windows, no weird psychotic reactions or panic attack type of behaviors on my part. The jones was it so far as negative consequences, along with 20 dollars puffed away in about a half hour or so.

I smoked a little weed, went to bed and got up early Friday morning.

Don, my neighbor has a thing about hurrying up to wait. We go to a food bank that opens their doors at 9:00A.M. but doesn't start distribution until 9:30. I keep telling him if he goes about an hour or so later, you breeze right through. There is no advantage to being first in line. Everyone who shows up gets as much when they are first or if they are last.

We arrived at 8:50 and were back home by 10:00. If I had left at 10, I would have been back home by 10:20. Don likes to hurry up and wait.

With my decidedly unhurried and uncluttered social and work schedules there is no need to rush. As a matter of fact, rushing around has not been part of my life for quite some time. There are a lot of reasons for that, first and foremost though is that I can't hurry. Physically can't hurry.

It may also be a good thing that I don't own a car right now as well, as there might be an urge to over compensate for that physical slowness.

The money I'm saving on speeding tickets.

A little later in the day Don stops back with a bottle of the finest bottom shelf whiskey produced in the world. The name of this crap escapes me at the moment and if I could remember the name, I would never buy it anyway. I probably got down about six or eight ounces of the stuff to Don's 12 ounces or more before calling it quits. He took the rest of his bottle and left.

I wasn't feeling too awful bad and spent a few hours doing my best to stay cool.

Just as I'm getting ready to turn on the TV and watch the news, guess who's at my door again. Don and his occasional drinking buddy show up with another bottle. They pooled resources to buy some of their favorite vodka, which is decidedly worse than the rot gut whiskey I tasted earlier.

I didn't drink any more of that crap, and quite possibly less than the whiskey. Whatever the reason though, that stuff hit me like a Mack truck. I was feeling no pain at all and started becoming a little too wobbly. Not good

We visited our other neighbor, who probably had much better things to do than entertain a couple of sloppy drunks. He also didn't have the where with all to kick us out, although I witnessed him tossing unwelcome guests in the past. He was a little buzzed himself, so he seemed to be in a charitable mood. He gave us a few beers and we smoked a bit of his weed.

That's when the bottom feel out.

From what I can remember, he had to drag me into my door, as my legs were nowhere to be found. Later in the night I did manage to crawl into my bed. When I did wake up this morning I was in no mood to move. So for about 2 hours I lay awake, under a fan, trying to work up the courage to get up.

Eventually I did get moving and found my legs had returned.

The thing is, they didn't return happy.

Another Weekend Has Passed.

2010-07-19T13:35:00.006-04:00

And nothing of much consequence occurred.

Well, almost nothing.

I had to laugh, because this is so crackhead. About 6 or 8 weeks ago I was ripped off by someone who was supposed to be getting me some crack. In some circles it would have been enough to get the shit kicked out of you. Actually, I have seen people beaten up for much less.

At the time I left an voice mail for this clown telling them to lose my number. I erased them from my phone's contact list as well. Good riddance, I thought as this person was just your typical, stereotypical crackhead type character and I was no longer comfortable with them in my house.

Yes, I broke one of my own rules about allowing crack smokers in my house.

Well, what was done was done and I thought I wouldn't hear from them again. At least part of me thought I wouldn't hear from them again. The crackhead in me knew that at some time in the future, when they needed money or something other from me they would call or show up.

Crackheads are so predictable.

So the phone rings and after answering this person says, "Hi! This is H_____, my guy from Ohio is in town and he has FIRE!" It was a call designed to plant a seed or strike a spark to get me on a roll. This is also a ploy used by some dealers to get some business going.

It's also a tried and true tactic of mainstream sales people to get sales.

To get action you have to make something happen. Create some excitement, generate some interest, catch a crackhead jonesing and let word of mouth do the rest. Merchandising, marketing and salesmanship cuts through all segments of society and all goods, whether they are illegal or not.

My response was "I'm broke for two more weeks." The call was terminated before I could flip my phone shut. I had to laugh, because the caller never even acknowledged the previous rip-off. To them it was like the past was forgotten because we have got fire today.

It also showed the desperation they felt, as the stuff, where ever it came from had to be good and they wanted to get more. They had no more money so they wanted me, or you or whoever had some cash to buy them more crack.

While the "beast" had some regrets that no money was available, I on the whole am happier today for that fact.

I think...

One other thing. I watched a movie online that shook me to the core. The movie's title is "Cracked Not Broken." It's what they might have called a trigger movie in one of the numerous rehabs I attended. The film is about young woman who was in the crack trap. She threw away her good job and white picket fence existence for this drug.

The film portrays a happy ending, with her being clean and normalcy restored to her life. The part of me that knows how that shit works doubts she is still clean.

I pray I'm wrong.

The part of the film that disturbed me was the fact that I knew that girl. Not that individual in particular, but that woman and the lifestyle she was pursuing in general. The hotel rooms, even in Toronto, were typical crack smoker's dens. I've partied with these women, gotten to know some pretty well and we have exchanged our little stories with each other.

After checking our cash, our stash of dope and all of our valuables, we've parted in most cases friends. There have been exceptions to that, but those instances have been a small percentage.

The other part of the film that disturbed me was her manner of ingestion. She was an IV crack user. Some of you are going, "Huh?" The fact is that there are some who go through the process of converting the crack back into cocaine so it can be injected.

Yes, I know the process, but it will not be described here.

Watching that movie and her poking and digging to find a good vein had my stomach in a knot. Not that I was triggered to use from that, but from having witnessed first hand that continual jabbing and stabbing to find a spot to get a hit dredged up memories I would rather have forgotten.

I have good veins and plan to keep it that way. That needle shit is too much work and creates too much damage. And all those tissues with all that blood is beyond unsanitary.

Just put the fuckin' rock on the pipe and hit it. Done!

If you want to see an example of the happy, carefree lives of crackheads just click the title to this post. It should be noted that Harm Reduction programs are alive and well in Toronto.

For me, that's not my life today and better is better.

No Crack Today

2010-07-16T14:54:00.002-04:00

Yep!

There is no crack in the picture for me today and probably for a few days into the future as well.

Today is dedicated to cleaning my rat hole apartment, washing some clothes, doing some other needed chores and sitting outside with neighbors. We'll watch the motorcycles roaring by and the people making their way to the Roar on the Shore festival at Perry Square.

I've also been given food for thought in regards to my attitude and opinions regarding my addiction. In some respects, those ideas have frustrated me. In a perfect world, with a perfectly functioning mind and an undamaged moral compass, smoking anymore crack would and should be unthinkable.

I am not trying to rationalize future use, but part of me thinks, as a commenter mentioned, I'm fucked. Another part of me has made me make note of the fact that through some manipulation of my resources, progress has been made in ways I never would have imagined before. These are things that have happened by my design to limit the amount that the "Beast" can consume and control my life.

This has, to their credit, been accomplished with the help of people who for some reason still care for me on some level. For that I am thankful. No amount of words could even come close to expressing the gratitude I feel for their help and for their apparent lack of judgemental ism in my actions, whether positive or negative.

I'm not looking for cheerleaders.

So I have things to do to keep a normal appearance for this crackhead.

I also have "him" talking to me, so to spread the cheer I'm going to go have a chat with my neighbor Don. He's the one with his jaw wired shut. His diet currently has to be ingested through a straw. Instant breakfast, Ensure and other such sources of liquid nourishment.

So to spread that cheer, I think I'm gonna' talk about food. Solid food like steaks, chops and wonderfully seasoned seafood. Food described in such exquisite detail as to make my own stomach juices flow.

Hey, Don! I have found a great recipe for steamed shrimp!

I'm certain there is a special room in hell for me...

What does a crackhead know anyway?

2010-07-13T12:05:00.005-04:00

Things started out well enough Friday night.

A friend stopped by with a little weed and shared some with me. We had a senseless, but fun conversation about 2012 and other nonsensical things that people often do after smoking some herb. I was happy for the company and thankful for that gentle buzz.

Saturday morning started out pleasantly enough, with the temperature and humidity moderating a bit with sunny skies. Then I tried to log onto the Internet to discover my connection was gone, gone, gone. A repairman came yesterday to fix the problem, a broken or poorly spliced cable.

A little later in the day my friend who keeps money stopped by with a case of beer, which I requested and a few dollars.

Well, forty dollars.

So i did what I usually do when some cash crosses my palm. I called the Dude and he delivered a forty piece to me. It was the same old, same old with the IBI and the other accompanying insanity that goes along with smoking that crap. But that little switch has again been turned off and rational thought returned.

I laugh at my thoughts and actions after all is over, but....

With no Internet to occupy my time on Sunday, I watched some DVDs picked up from the library. I also did a little chef stuff. I made some pulled BBQ pork. It turned out pretty good thanks to my new crock pot. It's almost like not cooking at all.

I shared some with my other neighbor, who does not have his jaw wired shut. Hopefully he and his lady friend enjoyed those sandwiches. I thought the stuff was dynamite! No complaints were heard, so all must have been well with my recipe.

My recipe consists of adding appropriate spices and such that are at hand.

Monday had me traveling to the library to beat on the keys of their computer. I had a pile of emails to sort through and some replies were made to some. I was going to post to this blog but time ran out. Just as well, as my original posting idea was blown out of the window by another little development. Besides the repairman's appointment had me hustling back to my home.

It's just as well that no post was made on Monday, as I had time to consider the results of a suggestion made to an online friend. At the time that suggestion was made concerning dynamics at a family gathering. It was simple advice on how to act or react to an ex-spouse who was or is in the throes of addiction. This ex is a loony tunes type according to my friend. Also included in that suggestion was a reminder of for who and why the celebration was taking place.

According to my online friend, the suggestion was taken to heart and helped them enjoy that day. At the time they were not aware of my addiction or life experiences or the hundreds of hours spent with counselors and therapists. When a "thank you" was written regarding that advice I took a risk and revealed a bit of my background and the existence of this blog.

Many of you regular readers know how cautious the Erie Crackhead is about this blog.

So, I started to wonder about how this person may have reacted or heeded my advice had they known ahead of time about what and who I was. My experience in the past has been that any suggestion or contribution made by me to people who knew my background was invalidated or highly discounted.

Besides, what does a fuckin' crackhead know?

More than he wants to at times...

It's been too hot!

2010-07-08T14:08:00.004-04:00

While the temperatures have been tickling to 90s, doing much of anything has been an effort for me. No air conditioning, a few fans to recirculate the humid air and feeling sticky all the time sucks.

So what is a crackhead to do?

Well, he goes to the library and sucks up some of their wonderfully air conditioned air. He wanders the stacks and looks for something interesting to read. He (I) also cue up for the computers so some posts, both to this blog and other places can be done in relative comfort. Yes, I have been to places much warmer and miserable than what is being experienced in Erie, but you still can only take off so many clothes when it gets HOT!

I am in a great mood because of a visit from a close relative the other day. This person hasn't seen me or talked to me in a long time. Much longer than I was comfortable with to be certain. I'm not certain, exactly, what this person feels about that absence, but it hurt me to my core.

That absence was my fault, and I am trying to make up for that neglect.

Baby steps I guess.

After the visit, I sent an email off to them with (gasp) advice. Hopefully that is taken in the spirit it was given as my only hope is that they succeed in any endeavor they choose to tackle.

Parents tend to do that type of crap, whether it is welcomed or not.

Yeah, my visitor was one of my kids. That visit really did make my day, week, month and year. Actually the memory of that short encounter has me tearing up right now. Your not supposed to cry in the library.

People tend to look at you a little funny.

Some of the details are missing...

2010-07-06T11:49:00.003-04:00

That's what one reader said to me.

The simply fact of the matter is this, too much information would be just too much information. Like the texters tap out on their cell phones.

TMI.

Erie Crackhead does not want to give someone a bad idea. Like this is the lifestyle they would want to pursue. While the life I'm living at the moment is heads and shoulders above the misery I once endured, it was at one time much worse. A few things fall into the wrong places and that miserable existence I once knew could return as well.

Nobody wants that, especially me.

There are other details that have been left out as well, that could give me a bit of plausible deniability. Well, not a hell of a lot, but a little deniability. It also protects the innocents around me that might only be harmed by details that I might describe in this blog. Every person I talk about here is also known only by a psuedonym.

Some people will not be described in any sense beyond being called a friend or relative. As a matter of fact the lack of some detail was mentioned by a relative, who knows more of the story than what is published here. Then again, there are probably a few facets of my life that was a complete mystery to them as well.

But as I pointed out, I did not want this blog to be a primer on leading the life of a crackhead. If someone who is reading this is smoking crack, it's important to know how far down you can go. Oddly enough you can improve things in your life, but there is always that danger of falling down the rabbit hole again.

Some of the people mentioned here may never be aware of this blog, and that's OK. But their lives and problems are their own and I don't want to make a spectacle of them. By and large these are good people. They may have played the cards they have been dealt the wrong way, but that's what happens to us all from time to time.

Hell, even a person dealt four aces and the King of Spades can fuck that up.

We all have seen that happen.

Yesterday was Independence Day...

2010-07-05T14:10:00.002-04:00

As in the Fourth of July!

Picnics, fireworks and get-togethers and family outings to the zoo or beach.

Well, for most people. I did what I usually do on major holidays. I slept through most of it. The fatigue might well be the new medication I'm taking for diabetes. It lowers your blood sugar and consequently it probably lowers energy levels in sloths like myself. I'm just starting on this road, but with a bit more attention to diet, maybe this will be a wake up call.

Yeah, some more exercise might be in cards as well. They say it helps to boost ones metabolism. It also produces natural chemicals to put you in a better mood. Endorphins and other brain feel good chemicals.

I'm too lazy right now to list them all, but a Google search will get you up to speed.

Of course my sluggishness may be the product of doing some recreational drugs as well. A little beer, a little pot, a little too much crack and a touch of oxycodone.

Basically some vicodens from Don.

This started Friday night with a few beers out of my front door with a few neighbors. A little gathering of the denizens of our little tenement. Some beers, a little weed and a bit of entertainment at the expense of us all. Self deprecating humor is good for the soul.

They didn't smoke any crack. That's exclusively my territory, thank God. If I lived in a building full of crackheads, it would be time to move. Some crack smokers are so leachy.

But the vics do help you sleep, sorta' but waking up bright eyed and bushy tailed can be problematic.

But back to the diabetes thing.

I am going to have to be more selective of the food items I even bring into this apartment. No more ice cream, no more cakes, say good bye to cookies and donuts. No more pre-sweetened cereals and drinks. Well sugar sweetened foods on the whole will have to be avoided.

Just one more thing I have to remember so here it's written down for future reference.

Just one question though...

Why don't I remember the important things at the right time?

I'll just keep working on that...