Being Alone

It is not a choice that many of us like to make.

It is not a choice that we often make on our own.

Regardless, because of the fact that we are shunned by those who were once close to us, or in fact we are the ones doing the shunning, we end up alone at times that it's just not healthy to be that way.

Christmas Day brought one phone call from a sister who lives far away. That was safe for her. She didn't have to consider whether she would have to invite me to her home for that holiday. No doubt, if I lived close by she would have had me at her place without question. There would have been a mild uncomfortable factor in that, but I would not have spent the entire day by myself.

The sister that lives closer to me now wouldn't have me over if doing so would guarantee eternal salvation. Unless I brought money along and could supply her or her daughter with something material to sooth the pain of my presence. Since I have nothing for them, out of sight and out of mind is their rule for me.

New Years Eve is creeping up on us. I probably will be asleep well before the ball at Times Square begins it's ascent toward midnight.

Just as well. I'll have no one close to wish a good New Year.

Being alone isn't always a bad thing though...

It's been awhile

I would like to be able to say all has been well and uneventful.

Unfortunately, that would be far from the truth. There was more than enough money wasted on that poison and promises made and broken to last for more than a bit.

What is it with the likes of us who hit that damned pipe?

It not like we don't see the train heading down the tracks. You see the light from the engine, the smoke pouting out of the stack. You see the cow catcher as it barrels toward you and still you don't do a thing about it.

How many more times are you going to screw up and how many more people are you going to disappoint?

Always, yes always it's after the fact that you then stop to look at the mess you have made of your life. You look at the fact that no one wants anything to do with you. You can't understand why yet another holiday has passed without so much as a phone call from a family member or friend.

What friend or friends?

What family?

Family members have long ago given up. They themselves not wanting to get caught up in the maelstrom that develops around you have taken to avoiding all but the most necessary of contact. When that contact does comes, it appears to be more out of pity. They don't want to see that loved one end up dead from exposure or starvation but at the same time keep an arms length away.

What we have really isn't contagious.

Why are we treated as though we were carriers of Ebola virus or some other terrible condition that could be spread through a hug or a handshake.

It is said that the holiday season is tough on people who are apparently normal. Do they understand what is is like for the likes of us who have so much self control in other ares of our lives with exception of that one small thing.

Yeah, just that one small thing.

The problem is that it is not such a small thing.

Not much new, but...

No, there really hasn't been much new happening for the past few days. Well, almost nothing happening.

Last Saturday I did run into people from my past life. Really people who were more of a part of my ex-wife's life. They may well be part of her life today for that matter. They were coming into the library as I was leaving.

Now granted, my appearance is not from the cover of GQ. I probably look a bit scruffy with my hair in serious need of a trim and my beard in a similar condition. My clothes, while not fresh off the rack from Macy's are at least clean although not sharply pressed. My look might be described as slightly rumpled. I think my look has always been slightly rumpled.

I do shower on a daily basis as well.

Anyway, as this couple approached I saw that the woman must have recognized me and was trying get by without me noticing. She had been looking at me from as far away as the parking lot and as they approached she tried to ignore me and continue toward the library doors.

Her husband, who graduated from high school a year before me was taking the same tact. We went to the same school together and participated on some of the school's sports teams. She may or may not have mentioned to him that she saw me as they came from the parking lot.

I did what I normally do when someone familiar to me walks by. I said, "Hi _____, Hi _____ !
(the are names omitted to protect the "innocent?")

She looking at me quickly, feigning unfamiliarity with me. Her husband though quickly came over and said "Hi!" and shook hands with me. She then stopped, looked at me as is for the first time and said, Oh! Hi ____! (My name omitted as well to protect the not quite so innocent.)

It was interesting to see the interplay between them as well as the body language used during our encounter. His actions seeming more open and accepting and hers being more closed and almost defensive.

I guess that running into somone that has turned his life into shit in many respects could be a bit unsettling for some people.

We made a little small talk. They weren't aware that I did return to Erie, but at the same time I didn't run an ad in the local newspaper announcing the fact. I just mentioned that I used the library for the internet service and to get an occasional book.

As mentioned before I do occasionally run into people I know. This is not a huge city and hardly a day passed that I don't see someone that I recognize. It is humorous to see the lengths that some people go through to avoid contact with the unwashed masses. It almost seems that they think I may have contracted some weird contagious disease.

On the other side of the coin, there are people who just happy to see someone who has been through hell and is still standing. Maybe they just are thankful that they didn't go through some of the same things that others have had to endure. Even if the hell was from one's own poor choices.

Right now, that's about all I have to say.

Erie weather

Crackheads and homeless people hate the cold. Well, hating the cold is not exclusive to crack smokers and the homeless, but they probably have more to contend with in bad weather conditions.

I mean, have you ever heard of someone going out into a blizzard at 3 AM without proper clothes and trying to score a $20 piece? Most sensible people would be in bed, fast asleep without worry about risking life or limb due to extreme conditions.

I have to laugh, because one time I heard at a 12 step meeting that someone didn't show up because the weather was too nasty outside. Some blowhard oldtimers chimes in with the ," If he was looking to get a hit the weather wouldn't have stopped him."

I was sort of taken back by that and thought to myself that not going out into crappy weather was the smartest thing one could do for oneself. Was staying inside, warm and dry, a kind of telltale sign that a person was getting better?

Not to some people I guess. Which is also why they say, "Some are sicker than others."

When bad things happen.

Now, what possibly could happen bad to a crackhead?

Yeah, right!

Nothing much on a daily basis except almost anything. I've now just discovered that I may have to go back to Texas. Nothing official, like a subpoena or anything like that yet. But it will be coming.

This all is related to a break in I had in my apartment in the Dallas area. Not that I'm looking forward to returning to that area but it might not be a bad idea to see what's happening. It also will be good to know that the thug that was behind all the BS will spend a bit of time in jail.

My heart won't be broken by that fact one little bit.

Let's face it. I was scared to death. I was threatened with being tied up and taken to an ATM to get any cash that was in my account out of the machine. My apartment was ransacked while I was pinned in a corner.

They were looking for a safe where I hide all of my money. How stupid can someone be. Crackheads don't have safes where they hide tons of cash. They blow all their available cash on crack.

Well, more on this little development as things well, develop.

A new month.

Yep, it's a new month.

Welfare checks will be out in a day or so. Some SSI and SSDI checks will be in the pipeline as well. You know what that means, don't you.

Yep, the slingers will be hustling their best crap just before the checks come out. When the money does get in the smokers hands, it won't be long before the dealers start switchin' up to the garbage.

It's a about the money folks.

I've been almost abstinent for the past few days. It really not because I've taken the pledge or anything like that. it's because I'm broke. It's one way to keep oneself straight.

I am already making plans for when the next check hits the bank. It's like a things to do list before stupidity takes over.

1. Pay my rent. (It's no fun living on the streets when the snow is flying.)
2. Pay my electric. (My apartment comes with heat, but what fun is it sitting in the dark for a month?)
3. Buy smokes. (That's obvious.)
4. Buy food. (The weather may make getting to the soup kitchens a bit difficult.)
5. Buy a bus pass. (There are free buses, but sometimes it's better to grab the first available.)

If there is any left, and really, there should be some, then I'll think about partying.

I really should be thinking about other things.

And that is a sad, sad fact...

Not Homeless..

That is a positive statement.

At the moment anyway, I am not homeless. Things are far from perfect, but at least I have a roof over my head. It could be far worse and there will always be room for improvement.

The other side of the coin is if you want to dance you gotta' pay the fiddler. have I written about this already?

Lemme' check.

Well yeah, I did.

The fact is that when my money came from my regular monthly check the first thing I did was get money put away for an apartment. That took a major chunk out of it.

That was a good thing. And that how us crackheads tend to do things. Get money spent on the necessities before you buy any dope. it's the way we work. The way we roll. The way we would like things to go at any rate.

You see, if we dilly dally around and don't get money put into the necessities, we won't have any money left at all. It doesn't take long for those green backs to disappear.

So the long and short of it all this this:
I did get the apartment security deposit and first month's rent paid. I did get a few necessary items so I could start cleaning the place and keep myself comfortable. I didn't save enough to get a new bus pass and I didn't save enough to put any food into the place.

As mentioned before, Erie is a hard place to go hungry. The downside is that it is starting to get cold out there and the walks to those places are going feel longer and longer as the mercury drops.

I just have to keep remembering all the positives to Erie as I take those walks.

The good thing is that shouldn't be too hard.

Things could have been worse...

Getting into St. Patrick's Haven last night was a bit painful. The plus side of it all was that I wasn't sleeping outside. In the summer, that would not have been an awful hardship, but the weather is starting to turn in this part of the world. It rained last night too boot, so a roof over ones head is good.

Anyway, the painful part was having to stand outside for approximately 2 hours waiting to be admitted to the shelter. This is sort of how it works. You line up at around 4:00 to 4:30 PM outside the fence that leads to the shelters back yard. You are informally given a number.

Well, you assign yourself a number. If you show up and there are more than 17 people already waiting you might as well look for alternative shelter. If there are less than that number, you count heads including yourself and assign yourself the last number. Last night I showed up with 12 people in front of me, so I was number 13.

The people who run the shelter don't approve of this numbering system, but it works for the people who use the place. One fellow, who is disabled and can't run or even walk too fast was guaranteed a spot based on this informal system. Since there were more than 17 that showed up last night, the last 2 fellows to show up knew to keep looking for a place to sleep.

Anyway, after waiting for about 2 hours and sorting out 'informally" who's in and who's not, you line up at the door. After filling out some paperwork you can sit and enjoy a cup of coffee. There is a TV set that some folks will change channels on without regard for personal safety. Anyway, if no one complains too loudly, you watch whatever the crazy tunes into until bedtime.

Later on, it's upstairs with you to make up your bed, get a shower and hopefully a decent nights sleep. A good nights sleep in not assured, but at least you'll be warm and dry.

I had someone wire me a few bucks so I could avoid the hassle involved with St. Patrick's Haven. One night of that was enough for anyone.

Actually I think it would be a great idea if the everyone had the pleasure of staying in a shelter for awhile. It might go along way towards improving conditions for homeless everywhere.

Anyway that was one bullet dodged from my misadventure from a few night before. Yeah, I think I mentioned that I had a bit of a mini-binge and lost my place at the Mission. I also blew money that was intended for things other than getting high.

Oh yeah! I also seriously overdrew my account. Only a crackhead would figure out how to milk every penny from the system that they can. Someone will probably fix that loophole someday. So far as I'm concerned, the sooner the better.

How many people do you know who smoke crack only use money set aside specifically for that purpose?

Not too many, right.

When that train starts rolling, it usually don't stop until all the money is gone.

Hopefully there will be a happier tale in the near future.

If you wanna' dance...

You've gotta' pay the Fiddler.

So, I went and did it. Got all EFed up Monday and and am now paying the consequences.

What happened?

Well, first thing was that I had money in my account. That is a major trigger for me. Money in an easy place for me to get at is almost a guarantee that I gonna' score some shit.

So, I did cop some and went to an old friend's house to smoke. Now I haven't seen this guy in about 40 years. Why would he let me come into his house in the first place? He and his wife are both crack smokers. Show me a smoker who says no, and that is someone who is really "in recovery."

Anyway, I had $250.00 that was supposed to be for housing. At the very least a down payment or a deposit on getting a roof over my head when my next check came in. The guy who I was trying to work something out with has been waffling. I got the idea in my head that nothing was going to come of it so I used the cash to get high.

Then it gets better.

After I've exhausted the money from the account, I used a trick that's sort of a hole in the banking system. I used my ledger balance to get additional cash through a cash advance with a purchase. You know, you use your debit card to make a purchase and then when the machine asks do you want cash back you say "Yes!"

This stupid crack trick has a limited time window so you try to make the most of it during that days business. Wait until midnight and the cash fairy, or more accurately the financial institution says no.

When you're staying at the Mission you get one 24 hour period to stay out all night. Even with an extension, which I had, you can't get that second extension. What happens then is that you lose your bed.

So now I going to be without cash for about a week. I am going to be without a place to stay for that period of time as well. Not a nice place to be in at the moment.

The weather is nice today, but the weatherman promises rain by tonight or at worst tomorrow.

I'll let you all know how this is going play out.

Wish me luck!

A Little Respect for Homeless People

Yeah, there are a lot of homeless people who got that way because of hitting a pipe. It happens. It happens all too often and their stories are sad if you took the time to listen to them.

The problem is though that these same people are often treated with disdain and receive little if any respect. Another thing to think about though, some people just are the victims of circumstances beyond their control. They don't use drugs, aren't alcoholics and want to work and have a real roof over their heads.

Then there are those unfortunates who are physically or mentally ill. Some of these people belong someplace other than on the street. Some are a danger to themselves and to others. Some are just suffering from conditions that they either can't afford to have treated or are afraid of the stigma that would be attached to them if they did seek treatment.

Now, you would think that people who work at some of the homeless shelters would have a tiny bit of sensitivity to the plight of the homeless. Amazingly there are a few who seem to think that the street has a place in those shelters.

Oh, they may make a big deal about making sure that those who are clients are served. But how about with a bit of respect. A little respect goes a long way and when you don't treat someone with respect, deserved or not, don't be surprised when you get none in return.

What brings this all on today?

This morning one of the shelter workers was hollering that there were people who were getting coffee who should not have been doing so. One of the shelter residents, who did not have a good handle on the English language, misunderstood what was happening and rushed out of the doors. This poor fellow left before he had a chance to get breakfast.

Maybe he didn't need that meal today. Who knows.

Maybe he was frightened by the aggressive nature of this worker. Heavens knows that many of the people staying in the shelter are hassled on a daily basis. Some for no more reason than they are indeed homeless.

Wouldn't it be nice for a shelter to be more than just a shelter from the inclement weather. How about a shelter from some of the bad attitudes and conditions many of these people face on the street?

OK...back off the soapbox for now.

I've been away...

I haven't been getting high either.

Really!

It's just been one of those periods where my instincts and disposition have been to stay clean. This is certainly not normal for me, but it is what it is. The quality of the shit around here is pathetic. The cost for garbage is outrageous as well.

I suspect that there is something a bit better out there somewhere but resources have been stretched. Trying to find suitable housing has taken a more important role in my life recently as well. My time at the Mission is running short and the ability to get an extension there is questionable.

The place I wanted to live has rejected me because of credit problems, but they didn't know about my crack habit. Not that that would has strengthened my case for proper housing.

Actually, my addiction would probably gotten me into one of the hobo camps by the railroad tracks. This is not the time of the year to be sleeping under the stars. While I don't consider myself any better than anyone else, some of those people are downright scary.

I may have scared someone at one time or another, but when a person has the capacity to frighten me!

Well...

Lab Rats

I got really pissed off the other day. At the mission, some street thug was talking with his source of supply. Well, that's my thought anyway. He was complaining to his source that his "lab rat" didn't like the quality of his goods.

This clown was pissed because his lab Rat was talking trash about his shit and it was hurting business. I can only wonder what the conversation sounded like from both sides. Perhaps it went something like this:

"Hey, my Lab Rat was talking and says that the shit he been gettin' from me was no good. What am I supposed to do 'bout dat?"

"Don't worry Cuz! Juz give him an extra bump next go round and tell him you' gonna' make it up next time."

Fact is though, the dealer is never gonna' make it up. They never do. It's all about money. making money and then making more money.

We're their cash cows, not their lab rats, seems as though they need to get that shit straight.

Maybe I'm Depressed

The past few posts to this blog were certainly cynical and not at all upbeat. I'm thinking that has to be attributed to being depressed. it seems when that happens, whether it's a product of recently using or just the plain old garden variety, chemically unbalanced type I get crotchety.

Well, it comes with the territory.

There are more than a fair share of crack smokers who, unconsciously or not, use crack to kind of self medicate themselves. The stuff certainly does give you a lift after the first hit. It doesn't matter if it's the first of the day or the first one after a certain amount of abstinence.

The problem of course is when you run out. Run out of crack, run out of money or just run out of the energy to keep that binge going.

So the blues set in. The first part is the knowing that the party is over before you're ready to say the party's over. This can lead to trouble in some circumstances. You know, the clown who thinks they need a hit so bad that they try some stupid crack trick.

You know, the try to stick up the local convenience store. The grab the guy walking down the street and try to get his money trick. The go to the stroll and do the trick trick. Things that come back to haunt some crackheads for a very long time. Especially if they get caught, which happens a very high percentage of the time.

Anyway, I've gone off on a tangent. All I really wanted to do was tie in my apparent bad mood for the past several days to possible depression.

Am I going to stick up a store or roll a drunk to get more crack to put me into a better mood?

Nope.

Thank God it hasn't gotten that bad.

Yet...

Sheesh! Talk about cynical!

Making Choices.

Crackheads piss me off!

Yes, I fit the description to a T and have a hard time with the things I hate about myself. It is perhaps part of that self-loathing that fuels my occasional binges.

Who knows?

I've spent thousands of hours in therapy, in rehabs, in psych wards and in private counselors offices trying to figure it all out for myself. Regardless of all that I still find myself at the same place on an all too regular schedule.

Like when I get more than two dollars to rub together.

That aside, I really get upset by some crackhead behaviors that I see exhibited in others. it's the petty stuff that seems to gal me the most. "Do you have a spare smoke?" "I'm outta' toilet paper, can I borrow a roll from you?" "It's been awhile since I've had a decent meal, do you have something I can eat?"

Now, I do have to admit that whenever someone shows up and is hungry, I'll do what I can to get some food into them. The other stuff just grates all too much though. The other thing is that if they don't ask, sometimes they just take it upon themselves to help themselves to your stuff.

No asking, just taking.

At times I think there are entitlement issues at play here. I have something they want, they feel entitled to just taking what they want. The thing is that should I ever ask for a bit of something from another user, it's like pulling hen's teeth unless they can see some profit from the trade, loan or whatever.

Maybe I haven't reached the same place in my addictive behavior to just take other people's stuff. Maybe I'm cold hearted and just don't want to share what little I do own.

I had a few days in a row without going hungry. I wonder if that is not making me insensitive to the plight of my fellow crackheads.

Naw! After all it's all about making choices.

Besides, I'm POed because someone gave me attitude because I wouldn't give them my next to last cigarette.

Missing in Action

Sometimes you get to know someone, their habits to some extent and their schedules. All of a sudden they become Missing in Action. They don't show when you have expected them to show, they haven't called and they haven't been seen in any of the usual haunts they frequent.

Most "normal" people get really concerned and think the worst. Most crackheads wonder why the missing individual hasn't stopped by to share their good fortune. If the disappearance is lengthy, most crackheads wonder which jail, hospital or rehab their using friend has fallen into.

Yes, there are those occasions when some serious misfortune has beset us. We've rented our car to somebody to keep the run going. We have found ourselves in a very strange neighborhood with no transportation back home. We are too ashamed, usually, to call someone for some help, so after we manage to get back home, we hide away for awhile and try to resolve some nasty issues on our own. That usually doesn't bring us to a successful conclusion to our dilemma.

Our family and friends fret that we have been shot or some other similar misfortune has befallen us. They may, if they haven't reached the point of stopping to care anymore , call the area police and hospitals trying to locate us. They may even drive around those strange and sometimes dangerous neighborhoods trying to locate us, or at the very least our vehicles.

Worrying about a loved one who hits a pipe is very tiresome to those who care. It becomes so stressful and tiring that those people have reached the end of their ropes and can no longer cope. They have come to the end of their rope. This is often their emotional as well as financial ropes. They no longer want the crackhead around. Not having them around frees them from the burden of worrying about the poor fool.

What the crackhead realizes all too late is that they are burning bridges. They don't see it that way, as they have more often than not lost sight of what is a normal lifestyle. They often are not thinking about anything during the course of a 4 or 5 day run beyond where the next hit is coming from. crack smoker doesn't think about the consequences of those things until the money or the drugs have run out.

This is one of the reasons why crack addicts live a lonely existence. The only ones that come around them anymore are other crack addicts who, as often as not, are looking to gain something from each other. Addicts tend not to trust each other for a lot of obvious reasons. Soon they start to trust no one.

But, no one likes to get high by themselves.

Well, I've been away.

The reason is that I did use Tuesday and a little on Wednesday. Went through more cash than I should have and am now paying the consequences.

And so it goes.

Nothing of particular note on the using. The quality of the shit is relatively poor in this part of the world. have I had worse in areas that generally have good product? Well, yes but that is the exception and not the rule.

Here the stuff needs to be cooked. That means that you remelt it to remove most if not all of the cut. You are usually left with anywhere from 75% to 25% of your original cookie. Around here the average is about 50%. More of that stretching stuff out to maximize already outrageous profits by the street thugs.

I tend not to write a great deal after coming off one of these binges. mostly because my mood is less than kind. I've been told that I am particularly mean at these times. Being a poor judge of my own character, I'll take the word of others. Well a consensus anyway.

Anyway, the usual spending of too much money, with a touch of paranoia and a lack of sleep have taken their toll again. Add to that the lack of proper nourishment and liquids to make for a bit of edginess on my part.

Join the party and have this sick sort of fun. Then watch as your funds, your sanity and your friends all start to disappear!

That reminds me.

Soon, maybe tomorrow the subject of people disappearing will be addressed. Not the permanent disappeared thing made infamous in Central America, but the temporary MIA thing common to many who hit a crack pipe.

Who do you trust?

Well, to be quite frank about it, nobody.

That might be an overstatement, but let me rephrase.

Almost no one.

Well, most everyone with a few exceptions.

Perhaps a couple of people. A few more than 2 but definitely less than 10.

Why, you ask.

It's simple. Most of the people I know are active drug users who, because of their nature are trying to get over on me. You're thinking, there's that paranoia thing going on again, and you might be half right.

Now, it is a good idea to not trust another user. They want what you have. I'm not talking in the AA, 12 step, recovery sense in any way shape or form. I got none of that stuff anyway, and frankly, from a 12 step point of view, don't want any of it. That's another post for another day.

The fact is that after awhile a crack smoker starts looking at the world from the point of view of where is their next hit coming from. There will come a time when when they think that next hit is going to come from taking my stereo, or TV, or nicking a bit of information that might gain them access to my bank account.

Now, today may not be that day but the day will come. Trust me, it will arrive and it will bite you in the ass. The person who gained that hit from you will even have the balls to help you look for your missing stuff.

Hell, they may even give you a hit from the crack they bought from stealing from you.

Also don't put allot of trust in the drug dealer. Let's face it, they haven't (or shouldn't) have first hand knowledge if their shit is any good. If they are a smoker, you shouldn't be buying from them anyway, because they're shaving off your order to get their shit. it's bad enough that the dealers are shaving the crap to increase their profit margin that is already ridiculously high.

The other things about dealers is that if they cook their own product, they are likely to be cutting it with some really weird stuff. baby laxative and rat poison are two things that immediately come to mind. Do you think they really give a shit about your well being beyond the capacity to but more crack?

Now let me clarify something. I do know a few people in my life and who I've met on the internet who I do trust a great deal. They are miles away and or are frankly disinterested in any gain they may be able to achieve from me because there is no profit in it.

Some people actually value friendship for friendship's sack.

Trust me.

Heh heh...

Not only am I crack head, I'm in sales!

Just because your paranoid...

Doesn't mean there isn't someone after you.

Face the facts. You are actually committing a crime. Possessing crack cocaine is a crime. In many states that crime is also a felony. Now, most police will not come busting through your door because you are smoking that crap in your house. But what if your dealer dude just walked in with a big pile of rock in his pocket?

Makes the scenario a bit different, doesn't it?

Chances of the police busting into your place at moment are sorta' slim. But there may be incentive for law enforcement to take a hard look at you if traffic in and out of the place you're at is heavy. makes things worse if the place in question is actually your home.

What better way to turn some smoker who may have something to lose flip against a high volume dealer. Especially if that dealer has gotten himself into the radar of local law enforcement. You could make that state as well as federal law enforcement as well.

Another situation is where you may have stiffed a dealer. I have had my own home invaded because I didn't buy enough crack from one unhappy dealer. Fact of the matter though is that he became his own best customer and the lack of business from me effected his ability to use the way he wanted to use.

Sometimes a smoker who expects that you have money and crack in pissed off because you won't let them share you stuff with them. They have entitlement issues. They think they're entitled to your crack. Sometimes they make enough of a fuss to draw unwanted attention to you.

Be careful who you let into your home. Also be careful who knows you have a couple of bucks or a couple of rocks.

A jonesing crack head is not to be trusted.

The other consideration is that a well meaning friend or family member is going to do something to blow your buzz. Intervention is a dirty word to me. It doesn't, in my humble and uneducated opinion do much good. Sometimes it fosters resentments in the target of that intervention that just make the situation worse.

Don't worry folks, I do know cases were the cops actually waited outside the target of an invention's apartment while he finished blazin' up his shit. This has happened in more than one case, but don't count on it happening all the time.

So....the next time you hear that odd little creak outside your door.

Yeah, I'm just having fun with you.

Maybe.

Paranoia runs deep...

Yeah, a little paranoid after one of those mega-hits hit?

More than a few people do go through that shit. It happens to more than who'll admit to that fact. people sitting around listening to sounds that are not there at all. People thinking that there is someone in the other room or in a closet.

Crazy isn't it?

We are tuned up and wired to the max waiting for the FBI, the CIA, the local swat team or whatever demon our imagination has conjured to come bustin' through the door or crash through the windows.

Sometimes we think that the nasty relative we pissed off or the gang banger we ripped off is setting us up for something nasty. While those eventualities are just slightly more likely than law enforcement coming to do us in, it's just a part of the insanity we burden ourselves with.

In all actuality it is just the IBI.

IBI?

Yeah, the IBI. That is the IMAGINARY BUREAU of INVESTIGATION. Just another part of that crazy freak show we play in our mind. It doesn't happen with every hit, it doesn't happen every time you go on a run. When it does happen though it is an event that is rarely forgotten. We are geekin', tweakin', schitzoid or what ever local expression is used to describe the phenomenon.

In a nutshell it's just cocaine psychosis.

When it's all over with you say to yourself, "I paid how much to feel that miserable and terrified?" Trouble is that when you get that next $20.00 or someone knocks on your door with a bump the whole circus just starts all over again.

You know what else? Some people think we're having fun.

We've talked about time.

Now let's talk about space. More correctly, let's talk about location.

Now we know the 3 most important factor's in real estate is location, location, LOCATION! try to find out where you're dealer is when you've been waiting over an hour when he said he would be there is 5 minutes is like pulling hen's teeth.

You know what I'm saying. he says, "Can't you see me, I'm right at the light." Another goody is "I'm right arouind the corner."

What light? Which corner?

Yeah, they're stringing you along while they drop off other orders on the way to you. Or they've just sold out and had to go across town to re-up.

That's just how it goes when you play this stupid game.

More about time

there is a very good reason why your dude may make you wait for delivery. You may even have to wait at times when you go to him to pick up. What makes a crackhead crazy is having to wait. Sometimes they are jonesing for that next hit. Sometimes it's just the first one and the anticipation that makes them a bit nutsy.

That is part of the dealer's ploy to get more for less. This can be successful if your guy thinks he's the only game you've got. If he get's that attitude, it's time to go shopping for a new source. These guys often get swelled heads when they get a few bucks in their pockets. Then they tend to start puffin' their trees and playin' their video games and thinkin' that everyone who has their number is calling them and them alone.

The younger, newer, hungrier dudes start out like a house a fire. Business is 24/7 and when you get some crackhead on a run the calls can come at any time.

But then comes the wise-ass who thinks if he puts you on about the 15 minute thing you'll accept whatever he brings. Sometimes they will say when called on being light that they make it up on the next order. Sometimes the quality goes downhill, especially at 4 in the morning. It's all part of their game to get your money into their pocket.

Don't put up with that. If you're going to follow this crazy game, you had better have at least 4 reliable numbers to dial. Don't put all your eggs in one basket. Don't let any of them think they own you because if you let them, they just might own you.

The insanity of it all is bad enough without getting saddled with a slinger with a bad attitude who thinks they can run you.

It's been a few days

As I warned you all, there may be gaps in these posts. From the occasional binge to other things beyond my control. Anyway, the Erie Public Library was doing some maintenance so the computer lab was closed.

OK...

This is going to be short and sweet. We are going to talk a bit about time. As in the dealer's frame of reference of time. When he (or she) says 1 minute, they usually mean anywhere from one minute to about 5 minutes. When they say 5 minutes, expect to wait for about 15 minutes to a half hour.

Occasionally they will say about 15 minutes, be prepared to wait up to an hour. When they say I'll get back to you in 10 minutes, or they will call you back in 10 minutes, don't expect to hear from them at all. This usually is the response when you are trying to get credit.

Credit!?!

Yeah, it happens. Don't expect it to happen very often even if you have a really good relationship with the Dude.

This really isn't a journel or diary...

The things that are posted here are not even intended to be an account of what may happen on a daily basis. That is not to say that what does show up here won't be derived from what happened today. perhaps what happened yesterday.

What shows up here are just my overly opinionated view of the world through my, at times, drug addled mind. My take on how people act or react to my presence. My actions or reactions to some thing that may have happened to me. This could have happened to me today, yesterday, last week or last year for that matter.

As always, it must be stated that my intention is not to glorify the use of crack or any other drug. There will be days where there probably won't be any mention of drugs at all. This blog, if anything should be construed as a cautionary tale. With that said, I'll continue with my blathering.

It should be noted that at this time I am homeless. As in I live in a homeless shelter. This would be the City Mission. For you who are not familiar with Erie, this facility is located at 11th and French St. It is not in the "Garden Section" of Erie. I'm pretty sure that there is no Garden Section in Erie anyway.

This shelter is strictly for men. If you show up and at least appear to be sober, you will get a cot for the night. When a bed upstairs becomes available you may then be put on the Samaritan Care Shelter pro0gram. When you qualify for this program, you are breathalyzed. There is that rare occasion when someone is asked to drop a urine.

Last weekend a fellow's eyes seemed to be a little too red to suit one of the staff members at the mission. This poor fellow also tearing into some potato chips, which added to the staff members suspicions. Anyway, because of those red appearing eyes and his apparent case of the munchies, this poor fellow was asked to pee into a cup. The staffer at the mission was amazed to find this guys urine as clean as....

Well, a mountain spring certainly doesn't work here.

Another thing about being homeless or poor in Erie. You will not starve. Actually, I've watched some people working the system down so well that they are actually overweight. In a few cases overweight is a gross understatement.

There is a day room at a church a few blocks from the mission I wanted to check out. My intention is to take advantage of this place to stay inside when going to my sister's place is not possible. This church also serves breakfast to the homeless or those who just need to have something to eat.

After breakfast in the Mission, which is not served to the general public, a few fellows will walk a few blocks to eat a second breakfast. Hot cereals, toast and coffee were being offered on the day I stopped by. It must also be noted that breakfast at the mission was eggs, sausage, toast or English muffin, juice and coffee.

Lunch is served to the public at the mission during the week. I have not eaten there yet, but that may well change in the future. If and when I can get an apartment, the possibility of gaining some sort of part-time employment and what kind of schedule will have will certainly have a bearing on where my meals will be taken.

Dinner is served a block and a half away from the mission in the other direction from the church. I usually eat there. It a soup kitchen is run by nuns. The food is good and often one can get seconds. I see people there from the mission, from the street, from crack houses and from the housing authority apartments that are nearby.

I also see volunteers working at that soup kitchen that I remember from my other life. They don't seem to recognize me. They may also choose not to acknowledge me. That's OK. They are doing things to help those less fortunate then themselves. I'm not there to embarrass them or myself either.

I'm hungry.

I'm there to eat.

A Crackhead in Erie

Yeah, a crackhead in Erie.

Why not?

We really are everywhere. people just seem to ignore us. Many, but not all of the homeless suffer from that love/hate relationship with the pipe. It's a shame. In a very real sense, do you think these people want to be in the position they find themselves in?

People who have never been in that position just say it's a lack of character or will. 12 Steppers say we are the way we are because we haven't worked a proper program. The true fact of the matter is that approximately 95% of the people who get addicted to crack never really fully recover.

A little about me. But not too much. This is for many reasons an "anonymous blog." It really isn't because I would be embarrassed. Not really. The people who have witnessed my fall into the abyss might well be embarrassed by this blog. They've suffered enough.

I have been doing battle with this shit for almost 20 years.

Really...

Honest...

No Kiddin'...

It has been a love/hate relationship. It has taken me to some interesting places where I've met some very scary people. it has taken me to very scary places where I've met some extremely interesting people. Some of those interesting places have also been a bit scary and some of those scary people have been extremely interesting.

This stuff has taken me as far west as Dallas, TX, north into Minneapolis, MN, south into Miami and up the eastern seaboard as far as Boston. The spots weren't the usual tourist trap type places. Most of the time anyway.

Anyway, this is the first entry into my new blog. The additions to it may not come on a daily basis. There are a lot of reasons for that. The first is that at the moment I'm homeless and don't have unlimited access to the Internet. Secondly, and let's be quite honest about this, I'm a crackhead. Would any self respecting crackhead interrupt a run to post to his blog?

Gimme' a break.