May 2006


Why doesnt my dashboard ever get updated?  I join Poppy Purples blog and when I clicked on her dashboard there were like 3-5 more updates that I have never seen before, any ideas or has anyone else experienced that problem?

Anyways, about to go to the doc’s office and just wasting some time I figured I would write down some quick topics that I could write about in the future so I wouldnt forget:

  • the old days of when new dope spots would open and the would give out freebies and the madness that would ensue
  • My old Nigerian H dealer and the story behind his operation and all the good dope tidbits so many seem to love on here and the many tales I have about him.
  • Some of the situations the Chicago Police have put me in in order to let me off the hook, such as: on x-mas eve after st8 busting me with about 7-8 bags and telling me anyother night I would let you go but since its x-mas eve at 2am your going to jail and what I had to do to get out of it, knee in a puddle of ice water and sing jingle bells, while he had the Rolling Stones cranked on my stereo.  Finally he handed me my dope back and said get the fuck out of here kid and have a merry x-mas [the dope bags had red and green jingle bells on them coincidentally].
  • Another Chicago Police aburd story the one about having to carry railroad ties in mid-summer from one end off the block to the other in a chicago heat wave while they drove along side at about a 1/2 a mile an hour, commenting how cool it was with thier air conditioning blasting.  No arrest, as usual
  • Ripping a dope spot off after the ripped me off and the melay that ensued my brand new Jeep Cherokee getting pelted with rocks and bottles because I was forced to turn around in chicagos madness one-way streets.  Than after getting out of that the guy that was sitting in his car waiting for a person like me to do what I did chase me thru the ghetto, blowing redlights swereving into incoming traffic, losing the guy and than getting on the highway and start to cook up my dope and a glance in my rearview mirror shows this guy hauling about 90mph up onto my ass riding my bumper as I was balancing my cooker with me liquid dope in it with one hand [there was NO WAY on earth I was going to spill that] and how I escaped that episode.
  • Another x-mas eve late night score with an old ex who couldnt get cash that night [the girl was loaded with money, and I mean load] so we decided to go to Marshall Fields and buy a few thousand dollars worth of FUBU and clothing that the dope dealers would wear.  Sometimes she would take orders the day before on the clothing these guys would want and pay them with nice jackets and stuff they could afford.  Unfortunetly this time we got stuck-up [go figure x-mas eve at about 3am with about 2K worth of clothing we made clear we wanted to trade for dope] and the melay that ensued.  We ended up scoring with some stashed cash from some transexual when we stopped to use the bathroom, he/she/whatever was busy smoking rock in the bathroom when I walked in and ‘Sugar, I can get you any thin gyour heart desires including me’…. ugh no thanks but I want the heroin, NOW!!!
  • more NYC score stories
  • more colorado score stories
  • more california score stories
  • more vermont/new hampshire score stories
  • Escapades about grow-ops indoors and outdoors
  • More abstract off the wall interpratations of MY life

And more on how I am feeling fucking great and having no urge to use and staying clean is coming so easily [except for these fucks that call me tempting me with drugs or dope and thanks to home monitoring I am not allowed to have caller-id so I cant see who calls and than I answer these phone calls with people offering me shit, which my home monitoring can hear, stupid fuckers.]  God, I cant wait to get off this fucking home monitoring and plans are to move ASAP to a loft in the city and get FAR, FAR, away from these people that cause me such problems when I am trying to get clean.  I need a fresh slate there are to many fucking dumb dead-end junkies in this town and I just cant be around it PERIOD.  No I am not running away form my addiction I have done that in the past it doesnt work, my addiction is well under control now I am just running from these People, Places, and Things.  Like Bruce Springsting says it in ‘Born To Run’:

Baby this town rips the bones from your back
It’s a death trap, it’s a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we’re young
‘Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run

God I cant stand stupid motherfuckers sometimes. 

~
Alll tomorrows parties
Alll tomorrows parasites
Alll tomorrows parades

Jimmy is sprawled out on his bed, exhusted from nothing. His body needs rest but his mind races with thoughts some good some bad. He slips his socks and shirt off and flips the overhead fan on. Tilting his head he looks at his cactus garden that lays in the enclove in front of his windows, crystals and rocks of all nature are sprinkled thru out the landscape. The evening sun is on its way to bed and the large Cumlous clouds obscuring the sun at times. As nature would have it a sun beam carves it’s way thru the swirling clouds, [one of those shafts of light thats just make you feel good and make you feel like there is so much more to life than a needle and a spoon or a 9-5 job, or whatever]. The shaft of illuminated light bounces off the tips of the many clumps of amethyst crystals, the light refracts thru the purple crystals leaving a purple tinted spectrum of the color wheel on the body off a Trichocereus pachanoi fma. monstrosus [Clone A]. The shading of the light instantly elevates Jimmy’s thinking his thoughts drift to the mind frames of the “Los Genteles” – the gentle ones. The tribe? villagers? People that have been said tended to the cacti ‘Trichocereus peruvianus’ for at least 3,800 years. Who were these people, and what did they know. I am sure there life was simple and happy. Did they have a connection with the famous Nazca lines? Specifically ‘El Candelabro’ [huge earth drawings that still stand today, only viewable from thousands of feet in the air to see the picture/artwork/blueprints? they? made] Ancient astonauts? Enlightened beings? Souls I wish to connect with.

Jimmy closes his eyes to the visual world and lets out a sigh of relief, he feels sick thinking about his good friends still out there geeked out on freebase coming down shooting heroin on endless repeats of days that end when that final, last, hit is scraped and smoked from the pipe. The kid in the corner scouring the floor for ‘that one rock he is sure he dropped’. Take a seat eat this handfull of pills, chase it with some whiskey. Luke taps the bubbles out of the heroin filled needle and slides it into his battered veins. Relief. The coked-out-crack-comedown disappears he collapses onto his bed waiting for the handful of xanax to extinguish that last lingering bit of anxiety from the cocaine. Is he sprawled out on his bed at the same time as Jimmy is? Jimbo’s stomach twists thinking of the sick, sick, lifestyle and how glad he is not smack dab in the middle of it, he says a quick prayer for them.
Instead Jimmy reaches under his bed and pulls out his chest’o’pills. Pops a couple and tries to think positive. Yea so what he is habituated on pharmicuticals but the madness of illicit narcotic addiction has long vanished. Or is it in remission he shuts that thought out of his head. Lazily he pulls himself up to the stereo and puts in a CD, ‘Old Crow Medicine Show’, song number 12, ‘Wagon Wheel’, he hits repeat and thinks to himself 1+2=3 so everything must be in sync. Jimmy has a weird fixation with numbers specifically 3 and multiples there for off. Why? He doesnt know but he keeps it under control.

Proping his head up on his pillows he closes his eyes and thumbs the rosary in his hand reciting prayers in repetition over and over to himself. After a handfull of minutes Jimmy has worked himself into a trance like body effect, one of the many ways he goes about it. He concentrates on feeling the soul of his body life out of his heavy human flesh body. Its hard, his traing and practice has been lacking greatly. His mind is calm and clear as the large Quartz crystal sitting to his left. After a few attempts he can get his ‘ethreal’ body to float a few feet above him. Seeing from his eye in his forehead, images of bird feathers seem to pave the path. Where the path is going he questions not. He floats not walks his body is shadowy and does not have definite lines of seperation. He feels a sense of complete oneness, traveling light is the only way to fly. A grid of flourecent green criss crossing lines appear as the pathway paved in bird feathers have ended and he senses he is at a cliff the grid stand infront of him. Behind that he see’s beautiful views of deep space. The colors muted down a tone, purple in hue. It becomes obvious that he just cant continue drifting a voice in his head says ‘You are One’. Riddle the riddler, Jimmy doesnt hesitate he begins to visualize himself passing thru the force field? The simple criss-cross pattern starts to become more complex as more lines form and more intersections are formed.

Dont give up Jimmy dont wake out of your trance and call and score some coke. He begins to bend the lines with his mind, visualization. The power of suggestion, at work he bends the lines pushing them back into a conical cones some seal up quickly and others remain open for a short time. He deepens his mindstate, pushing the lines with an unseen force [his mind] he gets a cone shape opening to form and stay the green florecent lines start to shift and sparkle, it reminds him of a Summer thunder storm and how the sky is green and lightning crashes. The lines themself start to grow what Jimmy thinks are roots just as a lightning bolt splinters off. The roots start to grow and soon the conical tunnel is a solid color. Jimmy’s body jumps, twists with is back turning toward the light of the tunnel and with the grace of a high diver he spins into the tunnel.

Waking up with beads of sweat on his tanned skin, his immediate thoughts are off moss and lichens. He lays back and tries to remember what he knows he knows. Why is it such a fight to bring the truth to light. What does moss and lichens have to do with a neon green conial tunnel in space he formed while floating out of his body. The only thing he can think of any significants is that moss is adapted to withstand a complete loss of moisture and still survive. What does this have to do with Jimmy? Why cant he fully break down the walls of reality. He questions his thoughts as he does he is quickly taken in to a dream he once had, a common occurence that he referes to conscious deja-vu dreaming this dream people lived in cities of giant quartz crystals, what the heck.

The phone rings, Jimmy places his feet on the floor and debates answering it. The sun is fully setting and behind the clouds the sky is a wash with a palette of purples and pinks. Whisps of clouds swirl in the breeze. He says a quick prayer of thanks for this opportunity of life and in his prayers he feels quilty requesting ANYTHING, so quickly he asks that he addiction problems can finally take that turn in the road where his travelled steps can no longer be seen, he also asks for peace on earth, the ability to push his conscious further. He wishes positive thoughts to all people, he says a prayer for the souls that are stuck in a purgatory, he welcomes the spirits of plants to enter his inisible? aura. Again he wishes for peace on earth and greed and money to be erased.

He doesnt answer the phone instead he puts on a new CD Jollie Holland and listens to a song entitled ‘I Wanna Die’. He jumps in the shower graps his poratble CD player, no MP3 player for Jimmy as he is not to keen on some new technologies even though it does include the #3, ha. He pops the earphones in his ear and heads of pointing his bike in the direction of the city lights. Riding no handed, fingers linked behind his head he gazes up at the stars and wonders.

Why me or Jimmy or Seedless? Why oh why did I not bake an apple pie. Do you know?

[I am sure many would think Jimmy is delusional and insane, but I assure you he is not, just maybe a bit more intune with his mind than others, take the time out of your day and relax for 15 minutes, try to clear the chatter from your brain, its hard. Try to have a completely silent head while resting, practice that till you can perfect it that maybee you can travel down your own green tunnel of light and explain to Jimmy where it leads you, if he doesnt beat you to it 😉 Just kidding life is not a race at least not for Jimmy, patience is a virtue many dont have.]

speculated,out of control, dirty alleys, yellow eyes, hep c, dirty finger nails, alters, marble, fasination with rocks, chemical coated, banana smoothies, cactus tea, well drain brain, medicinal highly prized, peace, random, thoughts, of fishscales, the guitar picks they could make to make to make magical music awaken my mind to the mysteries of life that many are unconcerned with, why I dont know. Dont you want more from life. calloused brains, sheilded souls, imaginary walls, stop your entruding into my protection bubble. Ill take my space helmet off and end this post only because I am getting a bit tired and am going to take some medicine and go try to find a movie on HBO even though I should go lay down and quiet my mind and see where my mind takes me, maybe later, procrastination the killer of self will.

Have a Happy Memorial Day, I will be spending it on house arrest or at some NA meetings, might have a few friends over for some grilling but I cant go with them out afterwards so that kinda bums me out but such is life. So I will be floating in some mental dimension hoping I can open the right door to a sacred channel of healing. As all we need is a little help from our friends. Ill be sending out warm wishes for those that have lost thier lives during this insane and worthless war and those that preceded it. G-ood-Bl-ess 🙂
Time machines, new routines
That a wrangler rides through a passing dream
And time’s replaced by a peaceful stream
Space wrangler space

He gets off at a stranger’s place
Where the girls dance different with familiar grace
He’s knowing that he found the place
That pours the coldest beer
Cold, cold, beer
[Forgive the spelling mistakes or grammar contex, I care not]

Pillars of Creation Hubble Telescope.jpg

9:53 PM – Bored, and feeling kinda sick, which I cant really explain why?  It could be just being tired from the 4-5 day delay it takes me to get back into the swing of things when I run out of my amphetamines, I sleep for like 2-3 days straight almost after my script runs dry.  I am getting SO SICK of waking up to go to Community Service lately, probably because I dont have a pick-me-up waiting bedside motivating me to get out of bed.  I am always running late.  Speaking of Community service there is this little 19-20 yr old [young I know] that has a b/f thats hooked on dope or rather methadone and dope she keeps asking what she should do, its obvious he is lying to her, but what I am I to say, I just eat my sandwich at lunch time and take a few pulls off my iced green tea frapachino-whatever [god I am addicted to those things its such a nice tasting dessert treat thingy].  Anyways, I can tell this girl wants to break up with her boyfriend and keeps asking me what she should do?  What am I supposed to say, I tell her I dont know, shit I dont even know you [barely] let alone your soon to be gone b/f.  I just tell her junkies are prone to lying, she;s kinda clueless on the whole ordeal.  Regardless, man she is smoking hot, I so want to, well figure it out.  Today she came in the bathroom when I was washing my hands before we went out to lunch [to borrow soap? sounds strange to me] and it kinda caught me off guard.  Than she is just standing there just seeming to be waiting for something.  I should of grabbed her and broke the ice, but NO I wash my hands while she keeps nudging me with her hips trying to squeze in and use the same sink as me.  Than she asks me if I need a ride home today, the fucking idiot dumbass I am I say no I have a ride cumming.  Grrrr…  Sometimes I can be the biggest idiot, but its all for the better she has a boyfriend and I am not the type to cheat on another guys chick, even though that body at 19 ugh, perky tits, tight ass pants, always bending over in front of me.  God damn I need to get laid, the oportunities are there but I dont do anything about it.  Than I get pissed later, oh well such is life.  This fucking goddamn home monitoring is hindering my sex life to all hell and I am starting to go batty.  A couple more weeks and I will be FREE, FREE, FREE, to go and come as I please I can not wait, but I am scared as shit about having free reign, I DO NOT want to slide into a bar and pick up a girl, I dont want to hang out with any of my old friends girls or guys as I know RIGHT where that will leed me.

I will wake up in three weeks passed out with a needle still in my arm and that simply wont do, its not going to happen.  I just dont know what I am going to do?  My parents are starting to see I am serious about being sober but fuck they have seen this countless times before and I dont blame them for being hesitant.  Hesitant for what you might ask?  Well to get me on my feet, my Mom wants me to prove that I can hold down a job for a couple months before they help me out.  Yeah I know I am pathetic you dont have to tell me, I live with it every-fucking day.  Truthfully I am helpless on my own or at least I have told myself that so long I have bough into the actual idea or floating concept.  My life isnt your run-of-mill life.  I havent worked for years, I am talking 6-7 years.  All I know how to do is party, that I can do very well but living life sober let alone living life and supporting myself HA, thats just too much for me right now.  I could careless what anybody thinks the fact is things have to change.  I dont know what I am thinking.  I am pissed the fuck off first of all because on my last arrest my parents went and sold my car out from under me so I have no car.  It was a nice car too dumbass me had to go fuck shit up as usual.   So I really dont know, soon as I am off this HM I am concentrating on moving.  I have enough cash stashed away to get a place in the city and move out of the leafy well-to-do [more like cant walk 5 steps with out having drugs pushed in my face] and its because of friends, places, etc.  I know I sound like a NA cliche but its true there is nothing for me here I want nothing here I dont even know what I want.  I am thinking a nice loft right outside the Loop down in Chicago, my parents said they will get me a car and help pay rent IF I can show I am serious about getting clean, how the fuck am I supposed to do that when I have played this game thousands of times before.  I just dont know, get a job for 3 months?  Stay clean?  and than split and start fresh.  I have dont that it countless states and cities, BUT those times I didnt have the will and how can I put this the willingness? to stay clean.  I am sick of this life style I am sick of dope headed friends, I am sick of everything.  So I think what I have to do is just disappear and start the slate clean where I know no-one and knowbody knows my past.  I am think of art school [gimme a break, get real seedless] but I am jusst so clueless and scared of relapsing.  I see my doc in a few days I am going to up my Suboxone dosage just cause I can sense restlessness coming on, and I know to trust my gut and it is saying loud and clear RUN.  Yeah, yeah yeah I know geographical cures dont work, and they havent in the past for me either but this times different [bet you have heard that a million times eh’, lol]. 

Truth be told it is different, I need to move on.  I can handle a licit pill habit, I was going to try and detox off my bupe but I just dont think its a good idea, I am sick as fuck of being on it though, 4 fucking years. Sigh, I dont know I am ranting.  Pissed I didnt take that little 19-20 yr. old home with me and take my frustrations out in my bedroom, but I have a feeling I would have fucked her world up literally and than the next thing you know she would dump her b/f and be calling me all the time.  Sure I probably need a good fuck, but that will come VERY soon, but what I need is a girlfriend a sober one at that.  Funny I say this stuff but my last 2 g/f have been sober [or what I call sober at least].  I dont know sorry your had to read my rambling jambling gambling mind [did you read it? if so please tell me what it said, read my fortune].

I see an old gypsy with a red bandana wrapped around her head, american indian shaking her container of bones and throwing them out onto a hand woven earth fiber mat, and than reading the signs.  Oh where oh where did my mind and self confidence go? Was it when I was eating Dinner?

On top of spagetti (on top of spagetti)
All covered with cheese (all covered with cheese)
I lost my poor meatball (I lost my poor meatball)
When somebody sneezed (when somebody sneezed)
It rolled off the table (it rolled off the table)
And onto the floor (and onto the floor)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Rolled out of the door (rolled out of the door)

It rolled in the garden (it rolled in the garden)
And under a bush (and under a bush)
And then my poor meatball (and then my poor meatball)
Was nothing but mush (was nothing but mush)

Oh, the mush was as tasty (oh, the mush was as tasty)
As tasty could be (as tasty could be)
And early next summer (and early next summer)
It grew into a tree (it grew into a tree)

The tree was all covered (the tree was all covered)
With beautiful moss (with beautiful moss)
It grew lovely meatballs (it grew lovely meatballs)
And tomato sauce (and tomato sauce)

So if you eat spaghetti (so if you eat spaghetti)
All covered with cheese (all covered with cheese)
Hold on to your meatball (hold on to your meatball)
And don’t ever sneeze (and don’t ever sneeze)
And don’t ever sneeze

I just dont know, I feel sick.  I took my medicine a couple times today, took my benzos, I guess its time for a bit more buprenorphine and a few Ativans [I guess Ill go with those tonght] and some Ambein.  I feel tired but not sleepy tired, drained tired.  Well at least I am sober [minus the pharmies but whats a man to do].  Shit I am hardly a man just some fucked up kid stuck in a a timezone that seems to be frozen like some glactic event where they find a wooly mamoth frozen under 30 feet of ice with ferns in its belly.  Why wont the earth just shift on its poles, why wont this world change I hate the fucking rate race of a world this place is I really need to disappear good, Costa Rica has always been in the back of my head I dont need much just some one I care about and vice versa and a soft pillow my mind will lead me where I want to go, or rather some mythical force that if I can only harness like I can harness the reigns of the Horse [heroin] with such ease.  I used to be able to but I let that part of me slowly slip away its still there laying dormant waiting to be awoken and its fulll potental brought to light, its kinda like riding a bike once you learn you never forget it just takes some time to re-learn a behavior that was forged into my brain the day I was born [follow me?  or did I lose you when I lost my poor meatball, lol I love that song my Mother used to sing that to me when I was a little kid LITTLE KID and I still remember it like yesterday.  Funny how the strangest little things stick in your brain.  Coincidence, I think not, as I have said many times before I am a firm believer in Fate and everythinghappens for a reason BUT WHEN THE HECK IS IT GOING TO START HAPPENING.  Maybee when I quit being such a chump and do something about it on my own.

OK I went off on a tangent didnt quit mean for that but it happened oh well. hit the X button up top if you dont want to read about my sick head.

🙂

Have a good day tomorrow and I will try to do the same.  Oh I got a haircut, like it matters none of you know what I look like anyways, except for a few lurkers that never comment that know me in reallife.  So I am off to see the wizard, which reminds me I have been watching that show on HBO ‘One Love’ or some shit about polygamy, I love that show its just so wierd it makes me feel normal.  Ahh well night time dosing calls and steachingout on the couch and a nice ice cold Neastea [I am sooo addicted to that shit, fuck] ok enough rambling.  I probably sound like a lunatic but I care not because I am one. 

Kloned or Grafted and Seedless over and out. [sorry about any spelling errors or gramatical errors, even if I try to correct them which I am not going to I end up missing something so its it for tonight]

PEACE

My mind is blank and I cant think of anything to write, its nights like this when being stuck on Home Monitioring really start to get to me. I awoke late today 7pm I went to bed at 4am, wtf is up with that? musta needed my rest. So lets see what kinda tale I can weave from my memories.

drawing a blank…

A story about the days of filling garbage bags up with Freon and passing out face first into the grass. Naw… boring and stoopid…

Typical saturday night, Jimmy was at his friends house sippin on whiskey and pulling lines of cocaine off the glass table as his heartbeat fluttered. Sneaking off every-so-often to the upstairs bathroom where he would load up a shot of cocaine and than whip out his Visine eyedropper filled with Roxanol [20mg/ml] back load up his 3 cc rig careful not to get the liquid sticky in the tip which makes it hard for Jimmy to make sure the shot registered. Sitting on the edge of the tub the morphine itch and rush made him smile to himself. The loud ruckous laughter floating above the blue grass music would jolt Jimmy back into joining the party. Down the stairs the front room and its panoramic windows curved in a semi-circle offered up a view of the lake. The midnight moon dancing upon the tips of the windswept waves. Sparkling in there magic. I look at the couch and wonder who are these girls and where did they come from?

The owner of the house is buzy gulping swigs of his Johnny Walker Blue label [which tastes like cough syrup to me]. I am pulled aside and asked if I have any opiates or benzos, maybe whachoo lookin for? The same as me I suppose a repreve from life. The group starts its talk, what shall we do, what shall we do?

We take 3 cars to the bar[s] each loaded to the brim. I am not to fond of any of the girls or rather I should say I dont feel like getting into thier pants. So I hop my friends car. We pop a couple bars of xanax and flick the flame lighting the end of the green joint. The aroma of skunk slides out the cracked windows. As the first couple hits take effect my memory is jogged to the movie: ‘The IceStorm’ god how I loved that movie, its like a tunnel in time. I digress, we turn the Rolling Stones on and pass the joint back and talk about girls.

I hate walking into a bar after just getting stoned off some good homegrown [Cough #1] not to mention the paranoia of the cocaine rushing quickly thru my bloodstream. The Xanax and Morphine trying to counter-act it and calm its anxious tendencies down. I feel as if everybody is staring at me, I hate it. Our group is easily 10-15 people deep and being well paying locals we are quickly ushered to a table. Coats get set down and the group scatters on their individual missions. That coke fiend is out to pick up another 1/4 ounce of coke, That pussy fiend is already chatting up two girls I have never seen before. The drunkards are pounding beers like no tomorrow ordering rounds of 6 for the two of them. The already set couples sit sipping the beer casually staring into each others eyes. I am looking over my shoulder.

A shot of vodka and a Becks beer please, as I elbow my way up to the bar. I slam the vodka ask for another slam that and leave a 20 dollar bill and grab my bottle and slip away. Straight to the bathroom the downstaris bathroom the one that offers a bit more privacy. Siting on the toliet I pull out a fold of cocaine and load up a monster shot, why I dont know. Holy shit I think to my self as I feel every hair stand up on my body, I feel the urge to puke. Fuck this morphine and Xanax I need a bag of heroin. I walk upstairs the smoke cloud hangs low the loud chatter of the customers is drown’d out by the music on the jukebox some Beatles song ‘Taxman’ if I recall. Some girls wave me over and I hesitate to go over and talk but I feel obliged.

Pull up a seat Seedless, hows it going? Ehh uhhh, its going how ’bout you? Same old shit you know? Yeah I know. Hey do you think you could score us a gram or two of white. I dont even have to think twice as of which white they want. These girls are your typical I dont have a cocaine problem or a drinking problem I just get wasted everyday of the week I just live off Daddy’s money. Ugh, yeah I suppose but I have something I need to get for myself. Go over and talk to Steven, tell him Seedless told you to go over. Julie is out of her seat before the words even get out of my mouth. I am left sitting in front of two girls I have known forever, my teeth are clenched I am geeked out of my fucking mind. I am thinking what are they thinking about me? I dont let those thoughts grow, I ask Amanda if she wants to take a ride. Sure she replies. Pouding back her $2 Corona with the ease of a pro. I leave my half sipped Becks on the table, she tells her friend she’ll be right back. I can tell she wants to come to but knows better.

We slip out the back and talk the usual shit, I ask if I can borrow her cellphone for a second. beep,beep,beep. Hey, its Seedless put cajon on the phone, hey whats up? Nothing well I am stopping over I just want to pick up a 1/4 gram, not the tan shit I want the first batch we got. Yeah be over in 15 min or so. Realizing I didnt drive I say FUCK forgot I didnt drive, Amanda quickly says she will drive. In the car. I play with the stick shift in her car as she fumbles with the keys sliding my hand onto her perfect thighs. As I do her eye look over and meet mine, in seconds we are engaged in liplock.her hand quick reahing for my crotch as my hand glide over the outline of her breasts. Pencil eraser nipples hard I slide my hand down her flat stomach and feel the heat inbetween her legs. She starts to fiddle with the button and zipper on my pants and I pull back, later Amanda we gotta go meet a friend. She stares at me with those doe like eyes, knowing this is nothing but a random fuck-and-suck. I can sense her wanting more NOW, not later. We drive away I fiddle with her radio trying to find something decent to listen to. Letting the akwardness of what just happen float past me. Amanda is always good for a good time with no strings attached and I think about her tits, how they could be bouncing in my face as she rides my cock. Erase those thoughts. I ask her if she wants a toot of coke? Sure I guess, laughter. I dump out a nice 3 inch honker on some random CD case and roll up a bill for her. I grab the Wheel and hold the CD up near her face. SNIFFFFFF, ahhh I watch her swallow multiple times. The chatter increases, take a left and head straight down Ivy Cove Road, are we headed to _______ house? Yeah I have to drop off some thing.

Pulling into the driveway the lights are dimmed in the house as we enter. Three shadowy figures are slumped over on the couch the light from the big screen TV flashing in muted blues. I walk infront of cajon, cigarette burning with a inch long ash. Wake up punk, Eh huh what… Ahh shit man you scared me. Yeah well what can I say. Lets go up to your room. Amanda you dont mind waiting her for a second? Actually Seedless I will wait for you in the car, fine Ill be 2 seconds.

Up in his room he breaks out 2 different bags of heroin, I ignore the one that is meant for selling and point towards the baby powder white powder. What do you want again, ahh I dont know just 1/4 gram or so. He dips into the bag with a measuring spoon and drops a nice size pile on the foled glossy magazine paper I had ready. I am going to rig up a shot wheres your water. Here he says as he opens his mini fridge and hands me a Bottled water. Dump, soak, filer, draw up into the needle, inject. AHHHH motherfucker about time. Whats up? Ahh nothing just edgy from all the coke and bar scene, and all I have is morphine and pills. I needed that rush and holding power of some good heroin. Thanks man, Ill just knock that off the tab of what you owe me. Cool? Cool. Well hate to shoot and run but I got a chick out in the car waiting for me, and we need to get back to the bar. Sounds good Seedless, give me a call tomorrow, you got it. Thanks, man no thank you 😉

Out in the car I catch Amanda with her interior car light on playing with her hair. Can I get another bump of coke Seedless, sure thanks for the ride out here I appreceate it. No problem is the reply I get back as her head is hunched over the CD. I have the urge to have her suck my cock, oil it up and than slide it into homebase. But I sit back and relax letting the heroin do its work…

“I got a girlfriend with bows in her hair and nothing is better than that”

The music of the ‘Talking Heads’ sooth my eardrums as Amanda chatters endlessly about so and so and this and that. I let my eyelids droop, lick my lips, and reclining my chair. Waking up in the parking lot she is staring at me with those ‘fuck me eyes’. Fuck what did I get myself into, “Hey Amanda its getting late lets get back into the bar, DD is having a party afterwards you can come hang out with me there if you want. We will party down, it will be fun. I can get those plump breasts in my mouth”. She smiles and we exit and walk toward the bar. Amanda would be a nice girlfriend but at this point I dont really want a girlfriend I am happy playing the market. Half the time I dont even feel like having sex or anything of the sort because I am to doped up on opiates.

These are good memories, memories I hold close to my heart, I try to forget about the stretches of homlessness and robbery and insanity and begging for a fix. Cut off from my parents cashflow, What get a job? Ha you gotta be fucking kidding me. I am in my prime works for the birds my job is to obliterate my mind on a plethora of drugs pharamacuetical or illicit, I care not. Although I have deep praise for the pharmacuetical industry and its magic it provides.

Well I will wrap up the story I told above, typical shit went down, party afterwards. Whatever drug you wanted, was there as always. Nice plump brests were abound. I ended up shooting coke and morphine and heroin untill I needed a jello mold to hold my body together. I do recall Amanda pulling me off into a empty bedroom, she was completely naked, her soft body was what dreams are made of. I layed out the rest of my coke and told her to snort away. She got geeked up I grabbed a bottle of vodka and hop’d in bed. She got what she wanted that night and I guess I did. Another night of the same old shit. Boring lame, and so goddamn repetitive it disgusts me. I am so tired of that life, and as you can tell when I get off home monnitoring I CAN NOT allow myself to fall back into that “Oh, Ill just tag along and drink 7-Up” while you guys get entirely wasted and long-gone. No its just not going to work. I am going to have to pull some drastic manuvers and disappear into the moonlight tipping my hat to the evening stars.

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I am ok, need to write something decent.  My hands and fingers are stiff, I have to go to a meeting DRA [Dual Diagnosis Recovery Anonymous].  Great meeting BTW, didnt have community service today.  The community service director actually bothered to call and let me know, which in itself rare.  So I caught up on some sleep I slept till 4pm.  I dont remember falling asleep last night.  I have a little snafu going on with my meds, which I wont go into.  Lots of people have been calling me lately trying to get me to use.  Damn this electronic home monitoring and them making me remove call-id.  I refuse to have a cell phone never had one and I will never have one if I can help it.  I like not being able to get ahold of.  Less than a month of Electronic Home Monitioring left god I cant wait but I am scared getting off it.  I dont want to slip into the bar scene, which I wont allow myself to do.  I need to get laid.  I need to get dressed, I cant believe 3 months of HM have flown by this quick.  I am almost thru and I see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I have pretty much dcecided I MUST move from the area I am living and disappear into the deeper depths of Chicago or the Wooden hills of Oregon or Washington.  School schmool, all I have is time.  Ok my hands hurt [strange] I need to get ready Hopefully tonite I will be able to post something of significant charm that makes me happy even though it might make others say, “Huh…?  what the fuck is this”

Ill be back…

Seedless

Colorado – 1994

Returning back from a short visit to the parental figures and the innercity, Jimmy is strapped with a multiple grams of heroin as he steps of the small airplane, glad to be on the ground and back home in Crested Butee. His friends are in the lounge waiting with fingers crossed. I grab my carry on bag and join them, small talk ensues and the main issue is brought to light. How much did you bring? I laugh and tell them just enough for me, your going to have to stick with your tar smack, while I hit the slopes with my rocky powder. We all get into the old battered 4-Runner and zoom back into town past the downtown strip and into our condo. Where’s the dope? Alright call down, here is a gram for you Brent, a gram for you Kris and a 1/2 gram for you Zieter, that leaves me with 3 grams before I have to switch back to colorado dope, yucky tar. Although this town is a Sitterpharmaceutical free for all from all the ski/board injuries I prefer illicit medicine to ease my pains. We all sit down in front of the roaring fire-place and rig up together, I just do a small shot as I have been banging dope the whole day across the country and in the sky. I settle back with a Fat Tire Ale and listen to the gossip about whats been happening in town since I left. Nothing the but usual wild parties, insane amounts of cocaine, and girls. What day it is is unimportant to me as everyday is the same, wake up late, click into my bindings and ski skate out our back door and ride the gentle slope to the ski lift thats a 2-3 minute glide for us. No waiting on the ski bus. I want to see Jenny but she is off visiting her parents for winter break, all the better I am to stoned to get it up.
Zip————–

New Hampshire 1997

I open the door to the growroom and I am met with a bursting aroma of heat, slight humidity all intertwined with a handful of strains [Shiva Shanti, Northern Lights, NL #5, Skunk red hair] all the real deal aquired from a trip across the sea. I figure on 3-8 days till harvest depending on what plant. They are being starved of water these previous days in an attempt to squeeze every nanogram of THC and its friends into the arm length buds. I shut the door and sit on the floor and look at my face in the crinkled mylar attached to the corners of the room as to not loose any light. The two 1000 watt HPS suns are glowing strong. I can hear taylor downstairs blasting some beatles music… Quote: It’s getting better all the time, I used to get mad at my school, the teachers that taught me weren’t cool I lay in the neatly organized rows of plants and marvel at this grow bumper crop for sure. I will do 2 more watering 1 today which is a mix of carbonated water and fruit punch. The dry plants soak up the sweet tasting brew and I hope my intentions will be realized and I will have a little bit tastier smoke.
Zip——–

California – 1999’ish

I really forget lol stoned on the beach some girl I have known for 2 months trying to convince me not to rent a sleeping space in one of the sailboats in the harbor, why dont I move in with her. Whaaat…? was my reply. I just happen to get involved with this girl on a random notion I was bored. I dont like her place even though its nice I just dont feel right about it. I stay for a week and make up my mind no matter how good the sex is I dont want to live with her. Thinking back I wonder what could have came out of that scenario? Shit I could be a movie star, or dead, or a model, or a beach bum, or strung out on speed and shitty tar? Who knows maybee I would have finished school as UCSB. What would have been will never be known. Its days like this that I wish I would have taken that chance just to see what it brought me. Instead I didnt for reasons I know not. My eyes dripped with tears the day she drove me to the airport to return home. I should have given her a chance. Oh, well thats life.
Zip—–

New York – 2002

Another place where I wish I would have given a better change there were many opportunities out there for me as strong connections were abound, instead I wasted away shooting coke and heroin. I should have stayed. Who knows where I’d be today. Dead? Or successful? Its an expensive place to live our rooftop apartment rented out for 3500$ a month?!?! Insane, just as I was. Thank god for friends and Western Union and Mommy and Daddy. Bad place to try and clean up, I’ll leave it at that.
Zip—–

Chicago – 1995’ish

Our small apartment was set back from the street and I drownded myself in booze to avoid negative forces pulling me back into narcotica. Too many drugs to many problems. The city just wasnt in my plans this season as I needed leafy quite retreats not a 10 minute jaunt to heroin heaven. I remember somebody filling up the needle out of my fishbowl to shoot a shot of rollercoaster cocaine, I had enough. Bail on the lease.
Zip——

Outskirts of Chicago – Summer 2005

Going slowly insane and tired of medications tired of life and tired of everything. I am protected from life living here as everything is frozen in time. I still get a daily allowance, I still have needles stashed, I have a nice car, I have a bank account, I have copious amounts of pill bottles, I dont work, I party part–time [which is probably 60 hrs a week to most ppl] as of late. I have everything I need but a damn girl friend the last 2-3 g/f’s I flew thru were of no real interest to me just a mere fuck or suck, although I do seem to have a strange attachment to the last one even though I truly didnt like her and its still fucks me up. Its only been 5 months since my last girlfriend and I need a new one badly, mainly for my emotional state. I know something will happen soon, I will make an outgoing attempt soon as I am a pussy and just wait for girls to come to me. I dont want this to be a summer of 1-5 night stands. I want a girl that I enjoy her company to lay with me in the wooded backyard at night drinking booze till I feel looped just holding her in my arms content. I wonder if it will happen, time will tell I guess. 11 years of undetailed memories.
“Down To The River To Pray” As i went down to the river to pray Studyin about that good ol’ way and who shall wear the starry crown? Good Lord show me the way! O sisters let’s go down Lets go down, Come on down O sisters lets go down Down in the river to pray As I went down in the river to pray Studyin about that good ol way And who shall wear the robe & crown Good Lord show me the way O brothers lets go down Let’s go down, Come on down O brothers lets go down Down in the river to pray As I went down in the river to pray Studyin about that good ol way And who shall wear the starry crown? Good lord show me the way O fathers lets go down Let’s go down, Come on down O fathers lets go down Down in the river to pray As I went down in the river to pray studying about that good ol way And who shall wear th robe and crown Good Lord show me the way O mothers lets go down Come on down, don’t you wanna go down? O Mothers lets go down Down in the river to pray As I went down in the river to pray Studin about that good ol’ way And who shall wear the starry crown? Good Lord show me the way O sinners lets go down Lets go down, come on down O sinners lets go down Down in the river to pray As I went down in the river to pray Studyin about that good ol way And who shall wear the Robe and crown? Good Lord show me the way whats next I ask you?

[old post] Will this summer be different than the last? A question I always tell myself it will be. I would give my pinkie finger for the ability to change my lifestyle. I can do it, I just have to make the effort.

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The Soft Parade  
“When I was back there in seminary school, there was
a person there who put forth the proposition
that you can petition the Lord with prayer…
Petition the Lord with prayer…
Petition the Lord with prayer…
Petition the Lord with prayer…
You cannot petition the Lord with prayer!”

Can you give me sanctuary?
I must find a place to hide, a place for me to hide
Can you find me soft asylum?
I can’t make it anymore; the man is at the door

Peppermint miniskirts, chocolate candy,
Champion sax and a girl named Sandy;
There’s only four ways to get unraveled;
One is to sleep and the the other is travel,
One is a band it up in the hills,
One is to love your neighbour till his wife gets home

Catacombs, nursery bones,
Winter women growing stones,
Carrying babies to the river;
Streets and shoes, avenues,
Leather riders selling news
The monk bought lunch

Successful hills are here to stay
Everything must be this way
Gentle streets where people play,
Welcome to the soft parade
All our lives we sweat and save,
Building for a shallow grave
“Must be something else” we say,
“Somehow to defend this place.”
Everything must be this way,
Everything must be this way

The soft parade has now begun;
Listen to the engines hum
People out to have some fun,
Cobra on my left, leopard on my right
Deer woman in a silk dress,
Girls with beads around their necks,
Kiss the hunter of the green vest
Who has wrestled before with lions in the night
Out of sight!

The lights are getting brighter,
The radio is moaning,
Callin’ to the dogs there are still a few animals
Left out in the yard, but it’s getting harder
To describe sailors to the underfed

Tropic corridor, tropic treasure
What got us this far, to this mild Equator?
We need someone or something new,
Something else to get us through

1st voice: 2nd voice: 3rd voice:

Callin’ on the dogs,
callin’ on the dogs,
But it’s getting callin’ on the dogs,
harder, callin’ on the dogs,
callin’ on the dogs
calling on the dogs
You gotta
Shoot at a few meet me Too late, baby!
animals
left out in the yard at the crossroads Too late!
but it’s getting much
harder Gotta meet me
at the edge of town, Tropic corridor,
You’d better come along tropic treasure
outskirts of the city
Just you and I
We were so alone
Better bring your gun
Better bring your gun Tropic corridor,
You’d better bring your tropic treasure
gun

“When all else fails, we can whip the horses’ eyes
and make them sleep and cry.”

My finger brusied the bannana that was in my hand, I have to forget my friends?  How am I going to be able to do this, the old man stared me down and spoke to me with a clearity in his eyes.  I came to the realization [for the 15th time] I am going to have to do this in order to maintain my some-what of sobriety.  The thought scared me as it did so many times in the past.  The truth in that reality rings so true and in my heart I know it is what I have to do.  How do I do this?  Its easy to ditch and forget about scumbag junky friends, but what about those friends that were there for you ALWAYS when you needed a bed to crash a 20 to score or a ear to listen.  So what they have a drinking problem, pfft. I dont have a drinking problem I have an opiate problem.  My body tensed with the fear of knowing I have to do this.  I have tons of friends and I am a lonely sorry son of a bitch, what is it going to be like when I have nobody to turn to?  Must I make these sacrifices to remain sane?  Will that can of pop at the bar turn into a pint of beer, will that pint tun into a pitcher, will that pitcher turn into a 3 finger glass of straight vodak, will that vodak turn into a few grams of coke and a needle, with coke turn into, more handfulls of pills, will those pills break me down, will my break down form a gram of heroin, will that gram of heroin, get me strung out, will being strung out make me loose my sense of what little self worth I have left, will my self worth turn into a loaded gram of heroin and a half a gram of coke and 3 10mg ampuls of injectable valium into a 5cc needle, will that needle slide into my arm so smothly like my feet gliding over a powder-covered iced-over pond, will that pond puddle up in my arm in a pool of blood beacause I CANT HIT.  Will that hit hit me under some bridge, will I float from my body, will my decomposed body be idenetified weeks latere by my water-eyed parents who love me so, will those tears drip onto my cold blue shell of a body. Wll I watch from abouve the room as they cry at my bedside, will I feel regret?  Will that regret haunt my crossover into the heavenly dimension?  Will my parents thoughts race as what the shoulda, coulda, did that they already didnt do a thousand times?  Will time matter? Will it matter if I have to get ride of most of my friendships for my own health.  Will I die happy or miserable?  The bannana slowly turned to mush as I caught myself tensing up at the thoughts of what I KNOW I have to do.

Anything is possible, free your mind, free my disfunctions, free me lifestyle?  will I be able to free my mind.  I hear its possible am I willing to take this next step.  Should I throw my cares to the wind and run with the rain.  Start fresh with no one that knows me?  Where shall I go?  Costa Rica?  Peru?  Live in harmony with the cacti, the sting of the needles can be so sharp and painfull yet some can be dull and like peach fuzz. I wish I could see a blueprint of my life.  Maybee Sally D can lead my thoughts, starts that fill my dreams.  Elders with long white beards and dreaded heads zonked out on mescaline sulphate.  The yellow needle like crystals holding the secrets to the soul.  My eye grow tired, as my Rozerem kicks in so softly like a down pillow that should carress my head.  There is no denying what I must do.  Can I find the strength to go it, will my vision fade to green on a bong hit from some cross breed I borne onto this eathly world by a dash of pollen here and there.  Yellow flicks of pollen powder producing my offspring hybrids of the F1 variate.  Will the smoke dim my vision, will the one with horns rear its ugly head into my life and cause tremendous upheaval, tearing my body to pieces as a carcess on the side of the desert poached by scavengers. 

Robing my ribcage and making a violin bow out of it.  Will my body produce sounds from some southern jugband.  The children of the sun begin to wake, to find out they are the eyes of the world.  The world a smog infested sess poll of disgust and greed.  Will that Pint of beer lead me to my death?  Just one sip says the pitchfroked angel, you deserve it you have worked so hard. Cant I disappear into a commune in the valley fo green.  Help, I need somebody, Help, not just anybody, Help, you know I need someone, help.  When I was younger, so much younger than today, I never needed anybody’s help in any way.  But now these days are gone, I’m not so self assured, Now I find I’ve changed my mind and opened up the doors.  Help me if you can, I’m feeling down And I do appreciate you being round.  Help me, get my feet back on the ground, Won’t you please, please help me.  And now my life has changed in oh so many ways,  My independence seems to vanish in the haze.  But every now and then I feel so insecure,  I know that I just need you like I’ve never done before. Help me if you can, I’m feeling down.  And I do appreciate you being round. Help me, get my feet back on the ground, Won’t you please, please help me.

Get my feet unstuck from the mud. the suctiion as I try to move and change the force is strong.  Is my will stronger.  Time will tell.  I need to surround mtself with sober [whats that???] people.  Will I sail away on the sea of dreams or will I be doomed locked in the gates of hell for the rest of my earthborne life.

Help me, help yourself, help me show you the right path, opne my window and I will put a screen in yours?  Your allergic to bee’s.  Will I be free of pills? Will I?  Will I?

Whats stopping my I know CLEARY what I need to do can I bee honest enough with myself to reliquish my will over to a force greater than myself.  I have never had a problem trowing my will away into some grimey drug dealers, burnt finger tips hand.  Whats to stop me know.  Myself and I need help.  I rub my lazy eyes my vision is tinted green my empty bed beackons me body for a deep sleep.  Tomorrow will be a different day.  Will the sunshine.  Will you remember me when I am gone?  Will I remember myself.

Tuns the Led Zepplin down and shuts off computer. Random images of what can be and what shouldnt be flash thru my eylid movie screens it is tined in green.  I am worried but not stressed and I havent even started the battle yet.  I just need some time to rest.

Seedless May, 2nd 1:19 am.  The dogs of doom are howling low,  Sleppy-time lets see where my dreams of light bring my this rainy evening.
 

 

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