Showing posts from June, 2014

The Real Hotel California

No no no, not the song. The places I have lived in my addiction should have been paying me to live there. THAT is how gross many of them were yet I paid $30-35 a day to live in squalor. Let's review: The Civic Center Hotel- This was considered one of the nicer places. It was nice because it had a phone in your room so you could actually page your dealer. In addition, it gave you a front as if you lived a semi-normal life because your family was able to call you. There were no blood stains shot all over the walls in the bathroom. The doors locked (in some hotels they barely shut). I could buy dimes of dope in the hotel if I was REALLY sick, although it was cut all to hell, and the managers were women which was always a plus since they would smoke weed with me. The Bristol- tweaker hell. Junkie hell. This place was more expensive than the rest because the rooms were slightly bigger. It was part of a few hotels run by a family of gangsters that were know to beat the hell out of te

Article I wrote for the Daily Beast

Interview I did for the Marriage Project

A Legend in My Own Mind

I reached my hands into my purse and stuck my finger. A god damned uncapped syringe again! So frustrating. I suck the blood off my finger. The fact that I even carry a purse is a complete farce. What is the contents? A old tampon I really don't need since I haven't had a period in eight months. There are four condoms, three regular kind and one oral sex kind. They say if tastes like mint but it tastes like tums. I'm not having sex anyway. I keep those in case some hooker needs them. I am always prepared to assist for a price. I got a travel sized bottle of bleach, six alcohol wipes, twenty bundled up syringes, and two food stamps. I will buy some five cent candy to break them when I need change for the pay phone. I also have napkins in case I have to go to the bathroom and wipe off some blood. This is lifestyles of the the rich and famous in reverse. I am poor and infamous. I almost missed the exchange today. I took some plungers out of barrels to make it look like

Follow me

traceyh415 on you tube traceyh415 on twitter traceyh415 on Instagram  traceyh415 on snap chat  traceyh415 on kik

Tastes like victory

"Am I getting a holiday take home?" he says as he throws in cup in the garbage.  He would ask to see his counselor, but he knows there would be no point in that conversation. Everything involved in a methadone clinic is a delicate balance between not getting caught and not getting high. Most people start with failure as the motivator. They have some how failed to keep their shit together. Some tiny little insignificant chemical reaction had taken over their entire being.  At first, methadone tastes like victory. You crush that cup with joy like "I got this" as you beat on your chest. The power of the purse has allowed you to pay your way out of your habit. It feels good. The dose may not be right but you feel like you have done something.  Flash forward a few weeks or months to the grind of clinic shackles. The window! Do you even know about the window bro? Have you ever had the clinic door shut before you have gotten to the window? Have you ever stood in l

Anonymous from US

The creation. A fiend in the making.  When shortcuts end up taking you down long dark paths.. Trying to find happiness isnt easy for some, i know it wasnt easy for me. Looking back on my childhood years I should have been sent to a shrink sooner...or I should have been sent to the right psych because there were some years of counseling that had little to no effect on me or my father. I also know now that there was damage done to me before I took my first breath, and that damage is part of why I have a dark side that I need to hide for 99.5% of the population. My father smoked crack throughout most of my childhood so I grew up around drugs forever,I can remember his paranoid flip outs and hallucinations..he boarded up all the windows to the house one night during a wild binge..we lived in a pretty square suburb at the time so im sure the neighbors knew he was tripping..this was 85 and crack was spreading like wild fire throughout the san francisco bay area and pops caught the fever.  I

When the Dope Starts Doing You Part Two

Remember your first crush? Not that hottie in home room. Remember the first time you stuck something up your nose? Remember the first time someone held off your arm? Remember the romance of your first high. You puked on the sidewalk and thought FUCK I WANT TO FEEL THIS WAY FOREVER. Then, the honeymoon when the dope was plentiful and we still had FUN together. It was so fun. I scratched my skin until it bled. My eyes rolled back in my head. And I never felt so alive as when I brushed the hand of death trying to pull me in. We were doing some drugs my friend. One day, I felt sick. I felt a heaviness in my legs and I knew. That is a moment when the dope starts doing you. I was emptying my bank account with empty envelopes. I was sleeping behind the counter at work. My cupboards were bare and my spoons were full. The dope, it seemed, at turned on me. BUT I LOVE YOU, I told me drugs. We can never go back to the way it was. The romance is dead and the lie is true. You thought you were doin

Today is a good day to be clean

I don't spend a lot of time talking about my present life. Maybe I should. Today is a day though I feel extremely lucky to be clean. I woke up at the crack of dawn. The cat was climbing on me. The dog needed to go out. My kids are bouncing off the wall. They need to be fed. And I am grateful for these things because I never believed them possible.

Occasional Companion

"Nothing ever starts on time " I hear some crack head remark in the foodline. He says this with conviction as if he has important places to go. His partner asks him "where the fuck you need to be homey?!"  Great minds think alike.   I smile at the friend with the subtle recognition that the partner he is Rollin with is a lop. A lop is a step below a lame which is a step above a mark. A mark at least has some money. A mark is a kid that comes to the city. You pinch his drugs and charge him double. He accepts this with a smile. This fool, this lop, has the nerve to believe the world owes him something. The world owes you nothing, friend. You got to take that shit. You have to grab life by the balls and get the world to beg for mercy.  I try not to associate with this or any crowd. When I pair up with someone, it is out of desperation. The drugs suppress my desire for food, for love, for self respect but they cannot suppress my desire for an occasional co

Life as an addict- guest post US

Life as an addict...half the time you spend it high, the other half you spend waiting to get high...the never ending chase for a little peace of mind. It took awhile for me to finally wander down that wasnt so much a path, but more of a dimly lit corridor that is barely 3 feet wide, with doorways every 15 feet that contain small compartments of heaven and hell...with the aroma of sulphur mixed with burning copper and the never ending scent of crack being smoked...these odors stick with you like the smell of death, once youve smelled a decomposing body you will never forget it... "The anticipation of pleasure or pain is always greater than the reality of it" all the time you spend thinking about how great the next high will be usually leads to disappointment...especially if your deep into your addiction. You dream of how great the next hit of crack will taste, how relaxing the next nod will be, how high the next joint will get you...and it doesnt, so you keep chasing.