Santa, Crystal Meth, a Cave, and a stuck car…


Here’s my brain, jumbled – uncorrected, fragmented, spelled wrong, poorly if at all edited….here is my brain, and all the events that lead me to today, one leapfrog memory to the next…

“You’ve got stories brother. Unbelievable, stupid, mind blowing, bizarre stories. Seriously, what is wrong with you?” –  Detox Allstars

_________________________________________________________________

So this is where it’s all supposed to start. A basic outline, an imagining of sorts where I’m supposed to explore all the small little fucking spider webbed fragments of memories that are housed in the jumbled attic of my mind. What a blissfully wonderful, simple, and ridiculously overwhelming challenge.

I’d so dearly love to string everything together….which is clearly why I’m avoiding even beginning to think about a specific story to start the unfolding thereof.

So where to begin….

That dumb bitch had been pissed off at her boyfriend. It had started when we were playing that endless methed out game of Uno in the trailer across from Morgan’s. I don’t even know what had started her off. I think I assumed that I had something to do with it. I know I wasn’t wearing shoes. We had finally succeeded in getting Morgan’s poor boyfriend with his braces to start smoking with us. Poor bastard was just as far gone as I was and then some. I felt bad for him in the way I would a lost little puppy. Envious of his huge pupils. I loved the way eyes began to look when the black started to eat its way through the color. It was the end of clean thoughts, it was the end of humanity. It was like being carried away into the security of knowing that you weren’t there anymore. There was a peaceful fascination and raging wildness in it. I would lose myself in my own any time I caught sight of them in the mirror. Sickly enormous puddles of oily depths that offered nothing and dragged me into a world of absolute freedom where I could indulge the most whimsical or craven whim simply to sate an instant desire.

Why we jumped in her car or where we were headed I don’t know. Somewhere out of town. I was at the tail end of still owing the woman I had been babysitting for money after that horrible tear through town with everything she had strapped to my ankle. Like always after I had been awake for days things were snapping into blurs of disconnected focus without any attachment.

It didn’t used to be like that. When I had first started hitting ye ol’ crystal I could hold my shit together like a champion swimmer sucking oxygen before the final turn. Sleep deprivation was something that happened – par for the course my friend. We were tweakers and it was important that you were able to get used to your mind function sufficiently to continue funneling the ever so necessary funds to procure the ever so necessary chemicals to continue fueling the body. Otherwise you would stop moving….and that would mean going to sleep, which meant confronting the real world and it’s sad and pathetic real speed. With all the sad, worried, angry, threatening, concerned faces of those who care about you trying to figure out what to do next. Or worse, not trying to do anything. Then there would come the process of looking for all the things that you hadn’t realized you’d lost, spent, broken, misplaced, destroyed, sold, overdrawn, made promises about, lied about, etc….wreckage, wreckage, wreckage.

No, sleep deprivation wasn’t such a bad thing, as long as you could hold your shit together mentally enough to keep the fun going. Which I did wonderfully well for the first bit. Everyone else seemed to enjoy pushing it to a couple days. Say 48-72hrs.

Fucking pathetic. I was doing that on willpower when I was 10. Though when I got curious after my climbing coach’s story about caffeine pills and ate 32 of them at once when I was 12 and put myself in the ER it should have been a pretty significant warning sign that I wasn’t too worried about stimulants if they were going to be able to get me where I thought it was I wanted to go.

But I digress….

Continue reading Santa, Crystal Meth, a Cave, and a stuck car…

Advertisements

In The Yard


Blistering heat from a liquid sun,

That has burned up thoughts,

My eyes, their soul and my fun.

What brought on this sanguine approach?

Lost crouching and encroaching on sad joys and lost hope,

I’ve spun out my wheels into newly made glass,

Sand heated to molten,

Razing a shimmering patch.

Skidded to halt over stones constructed as ruts,

My misery shines through soaked in blood, tears, and guts.

Systematic breakdown of holy while high,

Head snapping, throat shaking, body trembling, while I –

Stagger to golden notes,

Choke quietly on the last strand of hope,

Chase goals through my screams,

Praying each daymare fades to a dream,

Balance desperately on life’s beam.

Stable for now,

Scared to say how.

Each breath shoves me closer to the edge,

Welling up my sweet desperate pledge,

To my kids and myself –

“I’ll change this life to a road followed out of hell.”

My mind and spirit can shatter,

Leave me mad as Alice’s hatter –

And though clouds block her burn,

To touch that blistering heat of our liquid hot sun,

Is to what I aspire and yearn.