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.