Showing posts from December, 2014

Big Titty Kitty and other family Tales

"Aren't you done in there?!" He screams from the bedroom. I guess he is lonely. I invited these two over to my place because they agreed to give me a little taste. Now, I am regretting this choice. He is insane and she is annoying. Getting high with a brother and a sister team reaches a new low in my book. I am not sure why it jiggles my moral compass. The family that gets high together... Yeah it has me all fucked up as I ponder my existence while looking for a perfect spot of useable blue. I thought the mother and daughter prostituion team was odd, but I guess it is more common than I thought. The mother swore she never "turned her daughter on" to drugs. Yeah, right. MAYBE . Either way, I found it fairly horrifying to see the 44 year old aging woman with her premature dentures and her abscess scars continuing to work the streets. The woman in black and her daughter were sex workers of opportunity. Dealing, stealing, anything else to make money would come first

Happy Holidays

To all my readers- I wish you a SAFE holiday season. I hope you are with people that care for you. If you are alone, remember this pain is temporary. A solution can be a moment away. Love Tracey

The reason

I started crying. I can’t go on like this. I thought I was crying but I guess it was a dream. My life is like one endless dream where I no longer feel anything. There was a time when I had dreams. I had aspirations of being a lawyer. I had thought that one day I could see myself achieving things. In the depths of my depression, I had made myself a promise. I had a razor blade in the bathtub as a 12 year old. I had wanted so badly to slit my wrists. Some children seem born happy. This was not the case for me. I was born with a sadness that hung around my head like the fog in my brain. I had wanted to kill myself at 12 years old. I was fat and sad and alone. With no one to talk to, I traced my legs up and down with a razor blade. I promised myself I would never try to kill myself. I was strong. I could find a way to survive my feelings.  Unfortunately, that way seemed to involve heroin. I wish it wasn’t the truth, yet it is, it was for me. Heroin saved my life and took it fr

Christmas Time Again

I feel uncomfortable in a church, even if it is in some type of reception area. If there is a GOD, what does he/she/it think about me? I used to pray so hard. I cried as a child when they killed Jesus on those Easter mini-series. Why mommy why? Why did they kill Jesus? I was so confused. I remember when I was 12 years old, a kid died running laps in gym class. I thought God was there for us. So, I tried a little harder. I read the Bible on my own at 14 one summer. That was some super boring stuff. Pages and pages of this person begat that person. I did like the New Testament though. When Jesus turned over the table in the temple, that was some bad ass stuff. I saw Jesus as punk rock. he didn't want material things or to be part of the system. He wanted to change the system. That put me at peace with God. I wasn't sure if God existed, if Jesus was his son, if he was born in a manger. But I knew I was one poor soul living out in the lonely world. I needed to believe in something

I was dreaming of home

I was dreaming of home. These rooms have bright lights with no shades and dirty walls. They are perfect for finding a vein, not so good for sleeping. I fell asleep holding my knees. I was rocking back and forth. It soothes me. I don't feel so alone when I hold myself. I came to California alone. I spend most of my time with me, my cooker, and my memories. I was dreaming of home. The cold of winter grazes my cheeks. I am rocking back and forth in my empty apartment. I have the windows open. My heart is going to beat out of my chest. I am grinding my teeth for what seems like weeks. My parents live 45 minutes away but it might as well be at the other side of the world. I am in this room, in this body, in this moment. This might be my last. Sweat starts pouring off of my forehead. I moved out of my parents house when I was three weeks shy of 18 years old. I was still in high school. It was weird to transport myself from my apartment to high school. I thought I was so grown up. M