Showing posts from December, 2016

The Sweetest Thing

Finding a vein the first time. Isn't that the sweetest thing? I don't want to look at your face because I know what you are thinking. You are thinking you are so much better than me. Better as in well. Better as in you have the strength to resist all of life's more primal urges. You want me to understand that you excel in the art of "NO". You can hold back when my whole life revolves around GO. My heart is just a frozen sacrifice. I threw it in the dumpster next to the blood wipes. I passed by the smell of rotten air. I knew I belonged to this. I belong in this place, altered and alone. My confusion is only temporary. My focus is clear. Everything I need in life exists in little bags spit out by fragile men on street corners or hidden underneath the nut sack of some man I would never want to ask me for a favor. Life is funny that way. It has the sickest sense of humor. As sick as me on a cold morning waiting for my man. Not a lover. The only really man in my

Happy Holidays

Hanging with the spirit of the season 

The Semantics of Happiness

This is a work in progress. You are drug free- you are supposed to be happy- right?!” The man seems to get more angry the more he talks. He is a well dressed man in his mid-forties. I can tell right away that if he gave me a hug, I would pull away with the slight scent of some hair care product or perhaps some kind of fancy deodorant, anything to signify an upgrade from his prior circumstances. His well manicured fade and crisp flannel drew my eyes to him right away. Underneath his collar, I see the poorly chosen tattoos peeking out from a strategic location on his neck. He is a mixture of post addiction swagger and relatable social acceptability. It isn’t how he looks though that catches my attention. It is what he says, vocalizing all my doubts outloud.  His words are like a chorus of angels singing in my ears. Finally, someone is saying all the things I have been thinking all this time. “Well I am not fucking happy…” he takes a pause to take a sip of his coffee. I can tell h

Please Consider "The Big Fix; Hope after Heroin" in your holiday shopping

There are recovering folk, treatment facilities, detoxes, and families struggling with addiction that would love a copy of my book. Here is the amazon link  The book is also at Barnes and Noble, Indy bookstores, and I have a few author copies for sale.

All The Good Stuff

I received a special request to make a positive post. Ask and ye shall receive. Let me start out by saying, this blog is my therapy. I let whatever comes to my mind go through the keys and out into the universe. In my ten years of active addiction, I experienced horrors beyond the average imagination. I am not being dramatic- just stating facts. I am not sure if the streets of San Francisco are unique in that the lengths of human depravity on display here are enough to provide a lifetime of nightmares. I suppose my experience of a user in active addiction could have been very different if I would have stayed in Ohio but it was headed down that trajectory. I am a person of extremes. I use hard, I love hard, I am loyal as fuck. When I get involved in something, I do it until the wheels fall off. I'm up in the projects buying crack, I am turning tricks if necessary, I am walking the city with one shoe on and one shoe off out of my mind on meth. That is the essence of my brand. T


There are echoes inside my head Telling me I am alone  There are ghosts from my past  They follow me where ever I go I have memories like spiderwebs  They trap me every time  I breath out my insecurities  I try to still my spinning mind  Though bruised, this life can't break me Though angry, your words won't choke me I will stay up, find a come up  I will find a way to fucking shine.