It's been kind of hot...

Another summer when it gets sweaty around 10 in the morning and doesn't get comfortable again until 10 at night.

I have taken a few trips to the library to enjoy the air conditioning, but haven't taken any books out lately. I owe a $3.00 fine and every time I go, there isn't enough in my pocket to cover that cost. If there is, the small amount is usually going to be used for something of more immediate pleasure rather than cover past sins.

Sooner or later being blocked from using the computers or seeing a book that has to be read will have me coughing up the cash.

I did make a stop at a bar a few days ago. I lasted as long as it took to drink one beer. In the course of that short stay in this fine watering hole I was offered pills and a lollypop.

One fellow exposed his entire life by cleaning out his back pack on the bar. He was complaining that the air conditioning wasn't working all that well as he tore through his stuff, sorting out trash from things of value to himself. In some cases I think some of his treasures should have gone with the trash.

There is some stuff in this rat hole that many would just toss out in the garbage, so I should probably just be quiet.

Back at the bar, lady a few stools down from me complained about her good friend. It seems she thinks her dear pal has a serious drinking problem and is an alcoholic. This was accompanied by a lot of arm waving and finger pointing. Shortly afterwards, this sweet talking girl fell off of her stool.

And not one drop of beer was spilled.

That's was enough excitement for my $2.50 and I cruised on out of the door. Stopping in there three or four times a year provides a lot of action packed into a short span of time. Like watching an episode of The Twilight Zone.

Thankfully, it was a place where nobody knows my name.

On other fronts, crack has been scarce around here. The little bit that was consumed around check day was pretty shitty. And from what I've heard it's gotten worse. Two out of three slingers aren't answering the phone and the third has been trying to sell something that has no cocaine in it at all. So why even bother?

It's funny how some blessings come in strange ways.

Henry Miller wrote...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I've seen that shit happen more than once.

Hell, I've had it happen to me.

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

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

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

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

But I still want to get fucking high.

About four blocks one way and three blocks another

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It comes with the territory, I guess.

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

The smile was the scary part.

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

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

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

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

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

Memorial Day Weekend

Wasn't all that memorable this year.

Then again it really isn't about you or me now is it? It's about those who passed before us with special emphasis on those who served in the Armed Forces.

That's the way they seem to market it all to us anyway. For others of us this holiday is also full of memories of times, both good and bad that we recall with either sadness or warm feelings.

For some folks Memorial Day is an everyday event, mattering little if those being remembered were in the service of our country or not. And honestly not mattering whether the one being remembered has passed or just out of ones life.

I try to focus on the positive whenever possible as it is too damned easy to slip into some dark funk that doesn't do me or anyone around me any good.

Getting out and about was part of the tonic I needed to keep things on a positive note. A ride to the cemetery on Saturday to do a little clean up at the graves of those who passed before me. A ride to Presque Isle to enjoy the air, the water, the views and the people who were enjoying themselves in ways I haven't truly in years.

A stop at New York Lunch for hamburgs and hotdogs was also part of that excursion. Eaten on a regular basis, that stuff will probably do more damage than any of the chemicals I put into my body. Being as health conscious as I am, those visits happen no more than twice a year.

I do look at it this way though. Just as too much of a good thing isn't good for you, not enough of a really tasty unhealthy thing may be just as damaging.

It is all about balance, you know.

No complaints on my part as I was just happy for the opportunity to get there in the first place. A chance to get away from these walls for a few hours is always welcome.

There are times that that escape has to be prodded along by others.

Today took me to the park without any prodding. A book to read and a shady spot to enjoy it, a passing show of the different people who for whatever reason find Perry Square a place to relax, read, meet with friends or just contemplate shit going on inside of themselves. Besides, isn't that part of what this day is all about.

Contemplating that shit in a nicer place does also seem to give it all a rosier glow. Whether it deserves that glow or not...

It has been awhile...

And I'm not certain that is because there was nothing to say, as much has happened. On the other hand things have remained the same. Probably other outlets for my feelings and other crap going on have taken over in that regard.

It should be noted that when I started this blog, there was virtually no one to share what was going on. Most people didn't want to associate with a crackhead. Stereotypes, stigmas and the bad reputation many who hit a rock as often as I did and do tend to keep people at a distance.

In some cases, hundreds of miles distant.

Thankfully that is not really the case anymore.

Many people have accepted me for who and what I am and judge me more on what I do.   That is in contrast with what many may think I do in and because of my bad habit. Many bad habits is probably more accurate.

Not to be snooty, but show me someone who says they don't have any bad habits, and my guess is that they are lying. And there is no judgement in that, it just seems to be the way things are for all of us.

I think.

The other part of why there hasn't been an entry here in some time though may speak with my hiding from myself the lack of progress in a way. This of course is the fact that I still see the Dude (or Dudes) on a fairly regular basis.

As time has passed more people have discovered who I am. Some by my design and some though circumstance.  It did become uncomfortable to talk with some people about this all. Another part of the compartmentalization that comes with keeping secrets.

Trust also has played a role in this all.  I really don't think waving a flag about this all would be good idea though.

Recording this in the past has been a record of what was going on or what I may have been going through. That really needs to be maintained for the future. In many respects this is still a safe place to put this information. For me and others who might be in my shoes or know someone who is here as well.

The thing is that not talking about what I have or haven't been doing isn't exactly hiding anything from anyone except for one person.

Me.

A New Year

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

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.