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.

Did you ever...

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...

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

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.