Happy Easter

No picture today. I am writing this using someone elses computer until mine is fixed, so I do not have access to any of my stuff.

I will make this short and bitter. I ask that you remember the importance of the Lord Jesus Christ rising for our sins. I ask that you do this not just today but everyday that you have breath.

Sunday there will be families hunting eggs, people going to church for their yearly service, and will not enter again until Christmas service. There will be those that have a straw up their nose, a needle in their arm or other parts of their body. There will be conversations from people that believe in Christ and will mold scripture to their purpose and not God’s. The world will be alive with conversations of those who are curious about our Saviour, those with too much ‘knowledge’ about our Saviour, those that refuse to acknowledge Jesus as the Christ but will only acknowledge Him as a teacher that walked the earth, and they will have the false belief that we worship Him because He was just a man teaching God.

Sunday is a great opportunity to let the world in on a secret that some are only interested in two days a year. Enjoy your family, take any opportunity that you have when the conversation is brought up by a friend, co-worker, and those that you barely tolerate. Pray before you speak that God lets the words roll off your tongue, because it should not be an argument on who is right and who is wrong, but a true fellowship in His name.

That is it, shortest post in my history, minus the fluff.

Until I can sneak in somewhere else, or my computer is fixed: Your feet are never too big or small to fit into Jesus’ footsteps, just remember that your path will involve more leg and palm prints from stubbling, where His has none.

D.

Miracles Do Happen-Daily.

I’ve spent too long away from home
Did all the things I could have done
Gone are the days of endless thrills
I know I’m not the only one.

ch. So long, I’m goin’, I’m goin’ Home

I saw the streets all ripe with jewels
Balconies and the laundry lines
They tried to make me welcome there
But their streets did not feel like mine

ch. So long, I’m goin’ , I’m goin’ Home

I want the sun to hit my face
Through oak trees in the open lot
Forget about the things you want
Be thankful for what you got

ch. So long, I’m goin’, I’m goin’ Home

© 2009 Words and music by: Dan Auerbach

I put the words up to the video I put in because it is from a live recording and I do not know if you can understand the words or not. This video does not do Mr. Auerbach ( from the Black Keys) justice. The picture that I put up is of Ping-Shulin he is the ‘miracle man of China’. With my back, my addiction, and the mentality I lost from my past doings, I always sit and watch these ‘miracle’ stories of people that have had tragic accidents or diseases and bounce right back up.

These people are usually tons worse off then I am, and I wonder why am I not blessed with a miracle? I still suffer from depression. The better days that I have is just dealing with a constant back pain. But the last few days I have suffered from both. I feel like I cannot go one more step at times. My withdrawals hit me every so often which adds to the depression. I try to hide it from Nee-Nee and  make it out like it is my depression. It could be. I am having difficulties with telling the difference anymore.

I am working with three different people from my past, I will call them A, B, and C. A has alcoholic tendencies, I am not the one to say if he is or not, I have not hung around him enough to say. B is an ex druggie that I have known for more then twenty years who has moved into the apartments here. C is my friend that is experiencing heart problems. He has never done drugs, smoked and does not drink enough to hurt a mouse. He had a heart virus which is very rare.

I will start with A, I try to keep in contact with him as often as I can. He is a dear friend of mine and I have known him since 1974 when we were both going into the fourth grade. I love him dearly and really enjoy our visits. He is about the only one that I have opened up to about everything, even things that I have not put on here. That is all about him right now, because our talks are on going and I respect him enough not to indulge anything about him, because some know whom I am talking about. The last I will say is he helps me probably more then I have helped him in certain areas.

On to B. I feel for B. Our friendship never went any further than getting high when we could. I never had a personal relationship with him until recently. He and his family have recently gone through tough times financially, which seeps into marital problems. I asked our Church family to help out with his rent. Dusty, my dear friend and teacher, suggested that I do not talk him into going to church because of the help. But just talk to him. I am a Deacon over video, and I suggested that he helps me with this, he likes that kind of stuff and I think that he will. He came up to me one time and said that he has been trying to do good and leave the old life behind, but he feels like going back to the con. I told him to not do this. He would be more upset with his life and it would come between him and his family. Just wait it out. He recently got a job at a fast food joint. This is not what he is trained to do or used to, but he took it with a smile on his face.

Now C. He came over this last Sunday. This was the first weekend for him to go back to work at a soda company, but he looked good. I told him about this post on miracles that Noreen reads, he just looked down. I know that it gave him something to think about because of the way he acted. C and I used to work out all the time, I have known him for going on 26 years. While weights were a big part of my life, and I have to accept that I am in a hole right now with it, I can see a light of possibility for the future in working out. I also have God. C does not have that luxury, the Doc told him it is possible that he will do nothing but walk as a workout from now on. Working out is his life. He has been doing it as long as I have. I started when I was 10 or 11, he is 3 years older then I am but he was probably in his early teens. We did not know each other at this time, but I know it was a constant with him.

I was watching the Today Show and they had this guy that has Lou Gherigs (?) disease. He was an athlete, and is now confined to a wheel chair. Speaking by computer and his eye movements. Now this is a man whose living relied on his athleticism, and now his muscles will not work at all. His brain is as sharp as it has ever been, but he is trapped in his own body. He is moving forward with his life and has set up a charity fund for L.G., muscular dystrophy.

All of these people that I have talked about, including me, would like to see a miracle in their life. We would love to travel down the yellow brick road, find the wizard and have him grant us: a comfortable life; a better job to support a family; a heart; a new body; a new start. But we have traveled down that road for years and we just keep running into the yellow brick wall. It gets so tiring after awhile. Hitting that wall so hard that it throws us back on to the yellow brick, just for us to get back up and damn, if we did not run into it again.

I have always wondered about miracles. We use the word so lightly sometimes that we miss what the true miracle is. Nee-Nee had me come downstairs to read the post on miracles, and it really put things in perspective for me. Miracles are not always what we want. We might think that a person on their death bed that makes an unexpected recovery is a miracle. That is dangerous don’t you think? If you see this as a miracle and then your loved one dies from a complication during a routine procedure, this might upset someone  and make them question, “Why them?”

A miracle is what God does for us. IT is GOD. If your loved one dies, it is a miracle that you had the opportunity to know them. A miracle is the journey that God puts you on, rather you think that it is good or bad and cannot see the outcome. It is a miracle that God loves you enough to put you on that journey. It is a miracle that Jesus came down to take on our sins as a person, nailed to the cross, and rose again. He did this not for one person, or a specific social group, but for all of us. It is a miracle that we are offered the gift of giving, no matter what we have done to our bodies and/or minds we are still capable of making a change for others because of the miracle named God, Hosanna, Jehovah, several names but a total miracle.

I ask that you check out this website. It is amazing. This lady has gone through so much in her life, still is. Yet she takes God’s hand and relies on His miraculous love. Even if it does not turn out the way she would like to see, she knows that He is working. The address is: audreycaroline.blogspot.com  As I said in my last post, I am not a big fan of Tweeting, but I can almost guarantee that you will get hooked on her site, and will want to follow her Tweets.

Have a good day, evening, late night, early morning, etc. And I hope that daily you enjoy the miracle of Christ.

D.

Conspiracies..they are all out to get me, and no nomination.

I hate technology. Well, that is not entirely true I dislike it at times when it does not work well for me. When I get something new, I use it with much care knowing my track record with these things. It all seems to mess up one way or other. We have an X Box 360, I cover it up with a cloth so it might not get as much dirt or smoke on it.  A little over a year of use and protection, I get the ‘red circle of death’, which renewed  my warranty, but I still had to ship it off and wait. With this one I wait with baited breath knowing that it’s days are numbered. I have gone through several cell phones, that was more my fault then the phones, but still. My computer has been down and my friend Thomas fixed it for me, but now it is running slow. My typing is faster then the words appearing on the screen. I tried to enjoy Facebook, but hardly ever do I go there. It is a nice place to get in touch with people, but you have to go there, log in, respond to any messages you might have, blah, blah, blah. Too much trouble.

I tried MySpace pretty much the same thing, except I would get hit on there. Not by pretty people either. I do not go there anymore either. Now the big thing is Twitter. My apologies to anyone that really enjoys this new fangled idea of second by second electronic post-it notes, but I would either have to get a multi-media pack on my phone, or run back to the dang faggled computer that I am not talking to right now, until it has some time to think about it’s bad self. I can see the importance of certain posts using it as updates for hospital stays, and updates, but other then that I would rather not know what time a person used the restroom, and what toilet paper was used in said project. I like my privacy and do not think that I am going to tell the world my minute by minute updates. Do you not have life’s of your own? We used to call  Twitter; phone calls or private conversations. We would talk to the biggest gossip in town and the news would spread just as fast.

I love you my dedicated readers, yes all 10 of you that are in my nation. However, I regret to report that none of you nominated my blog for the bloggies, or whatever it is called. Not that I care mind you, I do not need a nomination to tell me how irrelevant I am, but it would have been nice.

I also wanted to tell you that I am starting my art studio. It is called something that is secret right now, because I would not want anyone to Twit it  and someone out there Twitting back saying that they stole it. I put two of my pictures up so you might see what kind I do. The one with the trees is for the lady that is sitting up an art show for me. Right now I am on a list of local artist for the gallery. Very exciting indeed.

I am in a ranting mood, so take this however you want to. Just remember that I feel in my heart that Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, my computer and my cell phone are all out to get me. A calculated and sinister plot for big brother to keep me down.

First off, since I am an addict, I will start with the so-called ‘war on drugs’. Billions of dollars were spent last year alone on this war. Fair enough. There are two tales that I would like to tell you about this war. Both are documented and should not be too hard to Google, if anyone actually Gooooogles anymore. Both stories are from former Government employees, they are former so take it for what it’s worth.

First one is one I have known for a while. The biggest Marijuana Field is owned by the Government. They have had this since the fifties for “studies on the effect it has on others.” The thing is they could not prove any negative effects. They accomplished this in the first decade of having the field. They fired one of the head Doctors after he wanted to issue a public statement of the medicinal purposes and relaxing affect on humans. They still have the field but after this became public it was swept under the carpet. Part of the big conspiracy to scare us from smoking a joint were the films that were put out in the fifties. One being the cult fave, “Reefer Madness”. Made to frighten the white upper class citizens and not the lower minority class that is never targeted, even today.

If prohibition started back up how many of you that are casual drinkers would buy from a bootlegger? How many of you in a ‘blue state’ have brought beer from a bootlegger on a Sunday? Or stocked up on more then the legal amount in a dry county? Beer, marijuana is like apples and oranges right? Right, alcohol has caused more divorces, domestic violence, car wrecks, deaths, liver damage, unemployment, etc. then weed ever has.

The second story has to deal with the speed trade. A man was hired by the Government to fly into South America, was told how to beat the radars, pick up his ’supply’ and bring it back. This ‘cargo’ he was carrying was worth millions of dollars in street cash. I cannot remember how he was caught, but the government eventually helped him and erased the incident from his files. I sugest you look this up, I am not sure of the details as I once was. Like I said take this for what it is worth, it is just my theory how certain ‘things’ hit the streets and in what area they are distributed to.

Oh, I have so many more theories on UFO’s and other things that the man is keeping from you, but these are things that are best digested slowly. One last question is: What happened to the fact that we the people are the Government? Taxation without representation with all of the cig taxes is driving me crazy also.

More theories later unless someone high up kidnaps me to silence me. If you do not hear from me in the next day or so, call your congress person, or it might just be that my stupid, stupid computer will not let me on. One last note is this threat. If you or anyone you know deals in virus’, malware, spyware, etc. I will hunt you or your friend down and I will make the offender download mock pictures of Judge Judy naked. No matter where you click on your internet they will always pop up. Then I will learn how to do it myself and plug into your computer then you can see me naked at my laptop. I am just getting annoying ads for anti-virus programs, and my computer is running slow. I believe that qualifies you for the worse.

D.

As “Christians” Fall

 

Notice the quotes around the word ‘Christians’ above. I am not saying that followers of Christ as the risen Savior and provider of the release of our sins which without we stood condemned. Christians stand naked in front of God, unworthy since the fateful day we breathed life. Glorious love has God that allowed me to take a breath and offer a gate that is wide opened for me, not that I fought against sin, not that I stood taller then any other person, Christian or not, or any other self-righteous reason.

I stand in front of my God naked, unworthy, but loved. I did nothing. I stand in front of God with nothing to offer for my sins. He told me that I am unworthy, He told me that I did not lift a finger while He toiled. I ignored Him and His mountain of riches that He set aside as my inheritance. I refused to return to the shelter of His arms, I was revelling in my desires until they became too burdensome to bear. He said that I would return to Him battered and bruised, empty handed with tears in my eyes. Yet He wrapped a robe around me to make me warm. He would allow me in and throw a party for me, yet I would not stay for long before I left once again.

He said before I knew Him He had already sent His Son to be slaughtered for my sins. He told me that before I was even born my sins were many of the thorns that covered His precious head. The bitter cup His Son drank on the cross was filled with the maggots of my sins. Because He loves me..and you.

If you go to church let me ask you, why? If you do not attend church, I ask you, why not? Church is people, not a building. There is no concrete evidence that said Church communed every Sunday, but it is a day we can commune, remember and celebrate this extraordinary love. YES, I said celebrate. Clap your hands, listen to others sing, sing to others. Sway, raise your hands, shout “AMEN!” “PRAISE GOD!” ” YES LORD YES!!”  How do you praise God Mr. Christian? Do you force feed this free meal that was given to us by the ALMIGHTY GOD? Are you constantly saying, ‘Do not do this. Do not do that.”  Do you secretly want everyone to follow you as you lead them blindly with eyes closed to a faith that you have not absolutely grasped, but you..you have total faith what you say is right. You cannot grab someone by the hand and drag them to God by conforming them to your traditions. No one has the full truth of God.

Works vs. Faith; Music vs. A Capella; Rich vs. Poor; Intellectvs. Idiocy; Formal vs Leisure; etc. Are all these important? I will tell you, I know nothing but for where Jesus leads me. See? I owe Him that. We need tunnel vision with Christ being the center point. Not tunnel vision on who is right or wrong. Being on an even keel with those that avoid buildings and communion with others in struggle and faith. If you just have what you conceive as faith but refuse to love Christ enough to do what He teaches, then you have as much as the person you condemn.

A wonderful, wonderful Sister in Christ Nina Floyd, gave me a book after I had relapsed back into drugs. It is called “The Ragamuffin Gospel” It is written by Brennan Manning, and from what Noreen has told me it is a good book. It is hard for me to read sometimes, even though I really enjoy it, it is just difficult sometimes. I have read things that she points out. I would not let her read it for a while because it really meant a lot to me that Mrs. Floyd had given it to me.

Brennan said in his first chapter, ” Put bluntly: the American Church today accepts grace in theory but denies it in practice.” Following is an excerpt of his book that I wanted to share with you also.

You know in spite of the fact that Christianity speaks of the cross, redemption, and sin, we’re unwilling to admit the failure in our life. Why? Partly because it’s human nature’s defense mechanism against it’s own inadequacies. But even more so, it’s because of the successful image our culture demands of us. There are some real problems with projecting the perfect image. First of all, it’s simply not true-we are not always happy, optimistic, in command. Second, projecting the flawless image keeps us from reaching people who feel we just wouldn’t understand them. And third, even if we could live a life with no conflict, suffering, or mistakes, it would be a shallow existence. The Christian with depth is the person who has failed and who has learned to live with it.

Procrastination is perhaps the worst, the most damaging failure of all. We who believe in Jesus, who hope in vindication, who proclaim the love of the heavenly Father, waste our time trying to avoid the things that are most important. How much faith, how much hope, how much love does the perpetual procrastinator really have?

As you go through life, if you acquire any self-awareness, any kind of honest insight into your own personality, you know pretty well what your weaknesses are. You know how you are going to evade the responsibility of faith, hope, and love that Jesus offers. If you’re honest, you know that you can’t scapegoat-that you can’t say it was somebody else’s fault. You know that when it comes time for rendering an account of your life you will be blamed or praised not for what the Pope has done, not for what the bishop has done, not for what the pastor has done (unless you are the pastor). All of us will be blamed or praised according to whether we have accepted the invitation to believe the message.

In the final analysis, the real challenge of Christian growth is the challenge of personal responsibility. The Spirit of Jesus calls our a second time: Are you going to take charge of your life today? Are you going to be responsible for what you do? Are you going to believe?

Perhaps we are all in the position of the man in Morton Kelsey’s story who came to the edge of an abyss. As he stood there wondering what to do next, he was amazed to discover a tightrope stretched across the abyss. And slowly, surely, across the rope came an acrobat pushing before him a wheelbarrow with another performer in it. When they finally reached the safety of solid ground, the acrobat smiled at the man’s amazement. “Don’t you think that I can do it again?” he asked. And the man replied, ” Why yes, I certainly believe you can.” The acrobat put his question again, and when the answer was the same, he pointed to the wheelbarrow and said, “Good! Then get in and I will take you across.”

What did the traveler do? This is the question we have to ask ourselves about Jesus Christ. Do we state our belief and then refuse to get into the wheelbarrow? What we do about the lordship of Jesus is a better indication of our faith than what we think. This is what the world wants from our rhetoric, what the man of God longs for in shepherds -daring enough to be different, humble enough to make mistakes, wild enough to be burnt in the fire of love, real enough to make others see how phony we are.

Let the prayer of Nikos Kazantzakis arise from our hearts as a passionate pitch of loving awareness:

I am a bow in your hands, Lord.
Draw me, lest I rot.
Do not overdraw me, Lord, I shall break.
Overdraw me, Lord, and who cares if I break?

May God bless you and guide you and that you cleanse your ears and eyes of the world’s rot and witness His glory.

D.

Is There Anybody in There?

Hello to anyone that is still out there.  We are not supposed to hate, but I must confess I hate Mal ware, Spy ware and every other kind of ware, even Tupperware. I guess Tupperware is not too bad, they could change the color up every once in awhile, but other then that…

It has been a long time since I posted. It is funny about technology and how quick we become used to it. The computer has been down ever since my last post, some people thought that I quit, died, or just quit and died, I did neither. Sometimes my music in the truck is too loud and I do not answer my cell phone, people think that I am avoiding them, I am not..most of the time anyway.

A few years ago blogging and Facebook were not that big of a thing, nor were cell phones. I do not understand how we survived through the dark days, but we did. Coming out stronger with a need to rely on the things that we did not have before. Can you believe it? Land phones, pay phones (they had booths and everything!) and a hand written letter was our means of communicating with the outside world. Pen Pals were our ‘e-mail’ buddies, and they were usually out of the country because we were not allowed to talk to strangers in any way or form. Unless you found their names and address in a comic book or teen magazine.

All of this has nothing to do with my post, remember I have ADD. God has touched our lives in so many ways since I last wrote. My back is still a mess and some of these blessings have brought ongoing depression attacks, totally worth it. My best friend, M., who has stuck with me through my ups and downs for 25 years, had a heart problem.

Before thoughts go through your mind, I have to tell you that M. has never smoked, or experimented in drugs in anyway. He drinks but only occasionally, not enough to do anything. He barely made it to the emergency room, and the on-call doctor was amazed at that feat. They told him that he has a heart of a 90 year old, he is 3 years older then I am.

This happened around the same time the doctors thought I had colon cancer. M. called me to see what the doctor had found out, he was very relieved that everything turned out well. He then offered a God bless you, which meant a lot to me. We did not hear from him for a month, he lives out in the country with no phone, but he always stops by to see us. He even missed the Super Bowl, he always watches football with us when time permits.

Finally I received a call from him telling me that he has had heart trouble since December. I understand why he kept it to himself, he is a private person and I am the only one of his friends that he has ever opened up to. Good or bad he will let me know. The reason behind this is I will not judge him and what he wants to keep private is honored. We have never fought about anything, we have disagreed a few times, but never fought. M. is a body builder and we used to work out together off and on. He had two doctors and they both told him that he can do nothing but walk. No running, just walking. No lifting weights of any size. This is devastating to someone like him, I know, I wrestle with it myself. I say that because going through it I do not want anyone else to experience something like that.

He was given three possibilities: Blockage in an artery; Heart virus; or it had just given out and he would have to have a heart transplant. I spent the night with him in the hospital the night they were going to run test to see, but his blood was too thin and they could not run the test that night. He stayed the last night by himself, even though I was to return around 6 that next morning. I snore and I figured he needed the rest.

I kept a smile on my face for him and would joke constantly about things when he felt that the conversation was getting too real. We did talk a lot about his condition and God but just thrown in between uncomfortable silence. One day I felt like I needed to tell him how I felt. He was in the chair at our home, on my way to the kitchen I stood by the television. I had all this stuff in my head but all that came out was this. ” Uh..you know man, you mean..uh..everything..well..the world..you know. You have been there for so long and took up with my shit..uh..” Which brought a reply of. ” You’re not starting that are you?” I laughed sheepishly, and walked on into the kitchen, then I heard. “Hey. Back atcha.” My reply was. “Cool.” Who says that guys can’t tell each other how they feel. That was the best thing that he could say to me.

I am using M. for his first name and he is really, really a private guy. I wish I could share some of the conversations we had. But many blessings came out of these last month or so. I have a problem that I thought I had overcome. I take on others pain and put them deep inside, forgetting I cannot help in anyway but through support. So after I came home from spending time with him I would brake down. Noreen had to comfort me. My physical, mental and yes my spiritual sides were depleted.

Our Assistant here has heard my lessons and believes on ‘No Worries’. This worked for me, when dealing with others. But I just broke down one day. I had a hard time with how M. left one day. He left me his guitar, this time he was real adamant about it. No was not an option. It wasn’t just that, but so many little things had me going to bed with thoughts that he would not wait for the diagnoses. That next day I was totally beside myself. All of the deaths in my life came flashing back, and I asked Noreen. ” Why should I love anyone? They all die anyway, right?” I told her that I would not love anyone else but her. I did not even want another pet, because they would just die before me too.

She thought that this was funny because she knows me. She told me that it just isn’t in me not to love. God made me to love. I knew she was right but I wanted some feel sorry for me time. So I told her again, I like everyone else as friends. But I am only going to love her because she will out live me anyway. She knew that it was too late for me to do that. I love my kids more then anything, I love Dusty, Jason, Steve, Nina, my Church family, and the three friends that I have left. It lasted all but a day, but I hated how I broke down. But it was still worth it for the blessings.

Dusty asked me a question he asked someone else. ” Before all of this happened with (M.) If I asked you the only way you could get him closer to God was for him to experience a call with death?”  I paraphrased the hell out of that, but my answer would be of course. No doubt. The point is: it is different when we are faced with that wall.

Turns out M. had a heart virus, and whatever damage that it had done is done. There is no reversing it. He asked me once if he was still on the prayer list, I said of course, but you have to take God’s answer whatever it is. I asked him if he felt easier knowing what the prognoses was. Yes, was his reply. As we were in his car waiting in the rain for a ride I told him “I wish that…” He replied, “I know..I know. If you could this and that, well we all wish for something don’t we?”  I called him a big baby and said “I wish I had a cigarette.” He laughed but wanted to act upset. I told him that I am okay with dying, I am just not ready for him to die. Then I said, “If you do though, what do I get?” We both laughed and he said, you aren’t starting that mushy stuff again are you?” How guys get that I do not know, but I know we have bonded. Not just with each other but with God in the middle.

It has been so long since I posted there is so much I wanted to say. I have a good question for everyone to liven things up around here. I have my NORML talk. My Government rant. So much to say. Thank you whoever you are that stuck around.

 

 

Understanding Guidance of a Misspent Youth. or We All Are the ‘They’ Your Mama Warned You About

Very busy day today, so I will try to keep this shorter then I usually do. I cannot promise, but I will surely try. Part of my busy day is the younger kids are coming today for the weekend! Nee and I are so excited! I have to go get brakes for the truck, dust, and get the video ready for service on Sunday. Doing all of this will be easier then usual because I know in my heart that I will see my children this evening.

I know that you know some of my past, so I will not repeat it for now. The reason I bring it up is for the fact I always questioned God “Why?” I would try to praise Him and what did He give me? I found out later that praise, baptism, worship means nothing. I say it means nothing because everything begins in your heart. Heart meaning your being, I now call it my Spirit.

I look back, and up until recently I questioned “How do I turn a bad thing into a good thing?” Then with the help of my wife and some others I realized that I did not have that power. If I was wanting to use this for God, then God would not let me miss that opportunity. Or He would show me the opportunity and I would have to take the right path. Even if it was possible that I missed the right path, God would offer it again. Kind of like training in a certain area. One might attempt the first time, but the more it is done the more natural it becomes. Then of course we want to move on to the next area, and the next and the next.

I was not willing to wait for God. I was not willing to listen. I wanted to praise God as I wanted to praise God. Not when He decided that I should show Him to others. Before I knew it I was talking to more and more young people that are where I was. They spoke to me with trust, knowing that I understand. They knew this because of the openness of my shamed past. I spoke of things that others showed were shameful. I found it funny that once I opened up they would talk about their past and how it stays with them today. I found the common thread in all of their ‘Confessions’ were the fact that they would stop and ask me if I thought these were valid thoughts or pains. I felt it all too real.

I kicked against the fact I did not want to talk about my past to them. It is different then writing it down, if I met most of you on the street you would not know me, nor I you. These are people that respect Noreen and me. They know about the new me, not so much the old me. When I open up to them I am cleansing their eyes to see, not only the real me, but the real Noreen also. Instead of them seeing a God driven couple that they long to be, or belong to. I am showing them a struggle that is fought between world and God. I am showing them a person that I fought not to be.

They appreciate it. Nee and I are not perfect but everything we have comes from God. The gifts of God are often mistaken for material things. That is part of it of course, but an atheist could have really nice material things. I always wondered how to use the material things to show God in my life. In the seventies and early eighties church groups would ban television to show them that they would not take what was offered on their smut ridden shows. I was young but I still believe that is not the way. We appreciate what God has given, but if it was taken away we will survive.

I now realize that the gifts of God are the people He puts in our path. How we show God to these people is truly understanding God’s gifts. The gifts that are important to God is His people. Material objects in the Bible mean nothing. The rich man was to sell his possessions. Objects of this world will succumb to rust and be destroyed. The ever living soul, and caring about the soul of others is the most precious gift we can receive.

I have so much more to testify on and not enough time. I did not get to segue into this as I planned, I just hope you get the meaning. The one thing I have noticed through all of this. Most people have remorse in their actions. Most people have remorse once it is too late and they have wrought more then was bargained for. That just a good time, can give birth to death. We can either keep our eyes opened to the bad on the outside or we can look a little deeper and see God’s child rather they accept Him or not. I watch 48 Hours on A&E , when the majority of the killers are questioned they brake down and realize the horrible consequences of what they had done. They either go to the regrets of their children never seeing them again, the parents or relatives of the ones they killed, they go to the fact of the life they took. I also look at the older people that have killed young thugs, they see no remorse and openly say that they would do it again if they have to. See the difference?

I reject people sometimes from renting here. Noreen sees the kindness in them. I do too, but the difference is to protect others from that element, we have to refuse. We can and do pray for them that they get in a better life, we just see that they can change, but at this moment have not reached the desire to change. I have walked in their shoes. I want to blame others for not trusting me when I could not trust myself. So, I do not have a hardened heart toward these people, in fact we have a tenant who has a very colorful past with me. But I saw the change. I have had others that had a similar past with me and who I love dearly, but would not allow them in because they were not ready for that change. My last words for this post is, do not ban anyone or anything that you do not understand just to show them that you do not agree with the life they live. Show them a better way, show them your faults. You just might be surprised at how much you have in common. If you cannot speak to them, they cannot stop you for praying for them.

Now to the video. The language is uncensored for a reason, but please do not let that stop you from listening to it. I would like you to concentrate on the words and the images. If you have never watched any of my videos please make this an exception.

Everlast-What It’s Like

A Year, A Month, A Day – Grace Happens

Hello once again. Sorry that it has been so long since I last posted. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Nee and I brought the New Year in at 9:30. Just fell asleep and we were sure that 2009 would come in with or without us. Sure enough it did, in all it’s glory.

I was using a scratchboard the other day. A scratchboard is a board that is covered in black ink and one uses special tools to scrape the ink off and make a picture. I was scratching a picture of an angel.

Nee came in with a picture that I did a little over a year. I will say it was one year, one month and one day since I drew it. I might as well because that is my title, and I do not want to think up another one. This picture that she brought in was a man screaming in agony with blood coming out of his mouth. She said, “Isn’t it amazing how God has changed you within a year?”

She was right of course. After she said that I reminisced about the past year. Damn, I was lost back then. I started reading some of my old post and parts of a journal that I was keeping. The journal had more personal things in it just for me. No one could discuss or look into that part of me, except for myself. It was filled with deprecating memories, and at the time current thoughts of how I would like to die.

Then I  thought about my outlook on life now. Man, how God has changed me. I looked back on the things that happened in ‘08, and the people I got hopping mad for relating my life on here and for telling the truth when no one else had to know anything. But I did learn that when I go back to drugs admit it, say sorry, and get back on the wagon. Don’t look back. Easier said then done. So this was a devastating time for Nee and me. Why, because I used one night? No, that was not it. It was the reaction from people that were supposed to know me better then that. I had a wonderful trip back on the straight and narrow because of Nee-Nee, Dusty, Steve Floyd, Nina Floyd, Ms. Chris-our assistant, Amanda Sanders, the youth minister, Jack, and the church that rallied around me without the judgment robes.

Then there was a rumor about me having an affair. Not from Conway where people see me everyday, but from the same sources that attacked me when I faltered and used again. I heard this from my dad when he asked if I was cheating on Noreen. I was so surprised, I just looked at him and told him of course not, that is the dumbest thing I have heard. So of course I came home and told Noreen, I guess if you are having an affair you are supposed to let your mate know about the rumors. She was as surprised as I was. We were mad, hurt, and rallied together.

Each person I mentioned this to, thought that it was the dumbest thing that they have ever heard and mentioned the fact that these people did not know us very well. Noreen and I found it funny, the only thing that we did not find funny was that these false accusations could not be backed up, in fact it was totally made up. Also, there was the fact that if anyone truly believed it, and was truly concerned then why did they not talk to us? Especially Noreen since she was the injured party here.

In fact Noreen and I discussed the fact that cheating is the smallest problem that we could encounter, and there are no ties between her and me. We have no children with each other, we do not have any property to speak of, nothing that is keeping either one of us together except for a strong love and bond with each other. Noreen and I have a girl that has adopted us as her parents. Her father died awhile back from lung cancer. She looked up to the relationship that we have and wanted to be a part of it. Just recently my eldest daughter has started to visit with us more. She found out that there was a chance that I had colon cancer. After hearing that, she wanted to stop messing around and spend as much time with me as she could. She wanted to know more about me. Her friend, who’s dad is an alcoholic and has had nothing to do with her, wanted to adopt us as her parents. She was so happy when we said yes. Also, there is a couple that live here and they are having a hard time getting started. The man is an adopted son of someone we go to church with, he and his girlfriend call us mom and dad. Ms. Chris, our new assistant here at Germantown, has latched on to us as well. When she first saw us she praised God for the love that we have for each other. She now considers herself our mom.

I understand the people that have spread these rumors know the old me. But they also do not understand the whole truth of who I am, and that some of the things that they know were told by others, and not necessarily the whole truth. I wanted to step back from that situation because I knew who my dad would believe, and it would not have been me. My dad always thought that I was lying to him, and at times I did. But I was more honest with him then not. Watching myself in certain situations when I was younger just to make him proud. The response was either a disbelieving, ‘Oohh, now.’ Or he would give someone else the credit with things like, ‘ Well, someone else must have done it and you took the credit after they left.’ You know, whatever. It does not bother me anymore. Here is where God’s grace comes into all of this, and the reason I brought up the past as I did.

If all of this had not happened we would not have the growth that we experienced through this. No one ever approached us, besides dad asking me about it, and not believing me. We learned to laugh at ridiculous things that are said. It did not hurt the trust that Noreen and I have. I continue to do my errands. I have two friends that live around here, and Noreen does not mind me going with them. In fact she knows that it does me good to get out of the house. I call her, I let her now how I am doing, and what I am doing. She and I know the real reason I am calling is just to hear each others voice. Another blessing through this is the fact I got closer to my other daughter, Noreen and I ‘adopted’ other people that need us and can see the love that we have. We found a closer relationship with the family we have in the congregation. I am in a better spot now. When I was ostracized from others I was on suicide watch with Noreen, my new friends from church and my old friends that know me well. But God picked me up and brought a joy into my life the likes of which I have never seen. I did tell Noreen if it wasn’t a couple that was as close as we were it would not be funny but detrimental to the relationship. Careful with those lies, Eugene.

When I thought that I had colon cancer, I was ready. I know that I am going to go to Heaven. Noreen and I even talked about my funeral. I was serious, I found out later when the results were negative that she wasn’t. She was so relieved, I was disappointed. Death is such a censored subject with a lot of people. My friend Tony, came in and I told him about the possibility of me having cancer. I was kind of joking around as I have been, but I notice that he became quite. He had dark glasses on so I could not see his eyes too well, but he wiped at them a couple of times. He got up from the chair and went into our dining area where we have a window looking out, and stood there. I asked him if he was okay, he just said that he was looking at his car. He never has done that before. I realized that he was scared for me. I just told him not to worry, we do not know yet, then I changed subjects. Tony and I used to work out together and have known each other for 26 years constantly keeping in contact with each other. He does not have many close friends because he is afraid of being hurt if something happens. He has lost some friends and is shaken up every time. I know now that if I left him then it would be the biggest lost for him.

He called me to find out how I was, I told him it was about three other things but not cancer. He said God bless you. He is not a religious person so this touched me. The next time I hear from him he tells me that he had a heart attack. He called me the day after. Noreen and I had not heard from him in over a month. My heart dropped down to the pit of my stomach. Today he just left from visiting us for the first time in a month. Seeing him this weak made us sad.

Through this I see that others will miss me. I would create a void in a few peoples life. Though Tony seems to be doing better now, I relied on the memories that we had. Even if we do not have a chance to make more memories, even if this was the last time I see him alive. I am thankful that God has blessed my past with such a friend. He has never done drugs in his life. He thought about steroids but never would use them. The biggest thing he did was caffeine and green tea. He stopped that after it was brought to his attention how erratic his behavior became. He drinks alcohol but not to excess. Always stopping all together when he began his workouts. God blessed Noreen and me in knowing this man. The values that he shared has touched us and in a way rubbed off on us also. Bringing us closer to a relationship with God. God gave us the gift of him being in our life.

There are so many blessings that God has given throughout this last year. We have a true family here in Conway that does not spread rumors or accepts them. People that are not afraid to approach with kindness in their hearts. We have young people that have had a rough road growing up, attach themselves to us with love. God did all of this, none of it happened willy nilly. It did not happen by some fluke of the universe. But God’s grace has opened up a wide spectrum of blessings.

Noreen and I have been praying that we can get out of the legal red tape that we are entangled in with my back and work. The next week we get a call about an MRI appointment for this Friday, and a Doctors appointment the following Monday. We never had both the MRI and the Doctor followup scheduled so close together. God answered our prayers. We have just told a few people here in Conway and one family member. They all answered that they will pray that this will come out good and finally be an end to all of this. No hands out wanting anything, just praying for the best outcome and that we will walk with God in the way He desires.

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Now, I am going to play stoolie for a little bit. Meth and Ice are water soluble speed. They can be inhaled from aluminum foil. Good to know if you find any scorched aluminum laying around. Since they are water soluble they can also be dropped in a cup of coffee. Coke does not last very long after you snort it, 15 to 20 minutes usually. It is not water soluble and is usually cut with a cleaning solution to ‘gooify’ it so that it will stick to a freebase pipe. This is a different looking pipe usually with copper wiring stretched around the bowl. A crack pipe is usually something that looks like a glass straw, or small bronze piece of pipe. Meth has been slowly edged out because of the stringent laws on sudaphedrine. Ice is making a come back, even though it is not a great substitute. I have done ice before that is how I know. Red is the most addictive and is one of the best speeds that junkies desire to find. Red is short for red phosphorous. Yes, that is the same thing that you light a match with. It is not the shaving of a match box, it is a chemical make up cut with other things to make it more of a speed. Red phosphorous is also in Meth, but that is from a match box. Red is not well known at this time, but I have a feeling that it is going to be as big or bigger then Meth ever was.

Red is a smokable speed. The feeling starts in the feet and envelops the body. This is what most junkies have said anyway. I have tried it before I quit and I can see the pull it has. My personal opinion is it can be extremely addictive.

Remember, I have not been in this circle per say for a long time. So some of these terms might be outdated, some might not be. I am listing a few here so if you hear them you know what is being said. The meaning is first and the slang is second.

Drug Slang Terms:

Speeding- Whigging out, Whigged, Spun, Spinning, Floater, Jetting, Jet, Motoring, Turbo, Motorheading, Riding the White Dragon, Runnin’ on Empty-referring to the fact of not eating but ‘functioning’.
A Speed Addict- Motorhead, Speed Freak, Rabbit Bastard, Pilot, Spinner, Loader, Nose Junkie.

I know that there are more, but my memory is not as good as it once was. These are the ones I can remember right now anyway. I might use more later because that is how my mind works, when I least expect it.

Peace, stay strong, and keep your eyes open to the blessings.

D.
-This video has nothing to do with my post I just like the song.

Dear Addict

Dear Addict, Wherever you are I pray that you have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Just know that you have one that is thinking of you on this earth. Be thankful that you have a roof no matter how dark it might seem. The Angel you see is not a hallucination but it is from God, and yes, He sees your beauty it does not matter if you do at this time.

The chances of you reading this are slim, I understand. I hope that you feel my prayer. I pray that you feel the Spirit that is sent you. The needle in your arm is not your only friend. The aluminum that you use to inhale your meth is not your only blanket. May the dragon that you chase escape your grasp. Look around at the ones you call your family, and bring them home.

As you lay there in your slumber, I pray that a better world seeps into your dreams. I pray that you look out the window and see a better world, no matter how dark it seems now. What you can bring to this darkness can overwhelm the bureaucracy that fills your eyes. I can look past your disheveled presence and see a glow inside that brings a warmth to my heart. You are beautiful. You are amazing. The world has heaped coals on your head, but I want you to know I have a hand that is always stretched out for you to take. I am thankful for you. I want you to live. Wake up, I pray that you wake up. Look out the window and find your angel and follow it to what you truly are.

I love you with all of my heart. Thanksgiving sucks to you because you see nothing to be thankful for. I see a hundred reasons to be thankful for you. You are my brother, you are my sister. You are what I once was, what I could be again. You hold a little bit of me in you, even if you think that no one knows how you feel, trust me I do. I love you, come home.

D.

What Tree Do You Rest Beneath?

My best buddy had an interesting question: “What darkness lords over you?” What rules over your life?

I believe that we all have a predisposition to some sin. Some struggle that over takes us. I say that we are all born with sin. What do you think?

Is a homosexual born as a homosexual? Is a pedophile born as a pedophile? Could someone be born with a destructive personality? Born liar? Born addict? I could go on, but you get the point. If you believe in just one of these prospects should you believe in the others?

I am not suggesting that any of these should be condoned. I am suggesting in our genetics we inherit the sins of our fathers, as it were. We deal with this through our restraint knowing which is our weakness. We pick up sins as we get older and we fall into some as a result of escape or rebellion. But I believe that we are born with one thing that is our deepest dark cave that we continue to walk through. That if we have God we carry the lantern of faith so we might fight back. I am not suggesting that this is our cross to bare. That is something entirely different.

With that in mind what is your darkness? I would like you to get this in your mind and concentrate on it, give it to God. We die daily, what is your hope? Are we to fall into darkness after we die, or do you think that we choose our afterlife?

I look back on the ones that have gone before me. I go back to my friends eyes looking up at me empty and cold during an overdose. I hear a friends voice ringing in my ears before death sit in. “I want to live. So much to do.” I can only imagine what he was talking about that he wanted to accomplish. I remember talking to my mom before she died. I felt the death before I was told. I knew that the upcoming Christmas was the last for her. She felt it too. I told her this, and I asked her if she was ready for God. Tears filled her eyes as she told me that she could not tell me that she was. A week later she told me she felt comfort and knew that she was ready to go when it happened. She was ready for God.

Looking back she had a horrible childhood and then she got married, had children and was the butt of many jokes at times. She wanted a different life, refused the sin of her father, yet it slid in. It was in a different form, instead of alcoholism it was prescription drugs. Back in the Seventies that was the thing. They had pills for everything. Legal, prescribed by a legal drug dealer. Who was she or anyone else to say that she had a problem? Because of my Gramps and the ones on my moms side of the family, I drank a lot but I refused the thought of being addicted to anything. I fooled myself and found my born sin.

I was sexually abused throughout my childhood, my mom knew something but it was not until later in our lives did she acknowledge by saying little things, but never bringing it all the way to the surface. My sin I picked up at this time in my life was lust. Another addiction to avoid. I lied to my friends about the first time I had sex. I wanted it to seem that it was later in my life. I was embarrassed because I did not know when to say my true first time was. What was I to say? That I have been sexually active since the age of five? Was I to go back to the first time I experienced an orgasm? I have had sex with women as old as their mom? I have had same gender sex?  I have experienced almost anything that you can imagine, until I realized my body was turning on me.

No longer was I having sex to show love, or even to get off. It was mostly about the other person. Sometimes it was about me finishing. I could go over an hour. I realized I had a problem once my penis was chaffed so bad, and I pushed through trying to ignore the pain. That I would not let it heal because of the frequency of me having sex. This had become my darkness that I picked up through life. But it tied in with my addictive personality that I was born with. My addictive personality was the cornerstone to other sins that entered into my life.

I had to research my darkness to realize what I needed to lay down. Like a genealogist searching to build a family tree, I searched my past to rebuke my born identity. This question of what is your darkness interest me. My brother and sisters have a darkness, not that I know of specifics, but I can see it in my brother. Something he carries with him eats at him. What it is I do not know, but I know that it was in him since a child. It is his darkness and I pray for him. I have always looked up to my sisters and wonder what darkness do they have? They fit societies norm well. On the outside no one would know what they carry with them, or that they have any darkness that they struggle with. I know that they are intelligent enough to recognize them and deal with them. I pray for them also.

The darkness does not have to be a big thing, or built on like mine was. My belief is that we are born with a dark seed. Our struggle. How we let that grow, as we get older, is not up to us solely. The reason I went back to my sexual addiction is to show how society can effect the growth of that seed. Someone may be sexually abused once in their life and it never happen again. It is something that they will not forget, but it is something that will effect them. If they do not have an addictive personality then their view on sex will be different then the one that was sexually abused one time and has an addictive personality.

The same with my drug addiction, smoking, control issues that surface at times, my being overly protective, wanting to fight at a drop of the hat if someone disrespects someone I love, me wanting to fight at the drop of the hat just because someone crosses the line with me. These all come from a seed planted in my birth and developed into a mighty oak. Just because of circumstances as I grew up. Some I had no control over, others I threw myself in head first. I recognize where my darkness formed. Each day now I take the axe to the oak tree that lords over me. I do this in a way that is comfortable to me. Comfortable in knowing that it is a way I have to deal with it. I know that God understands and He steadies my back as I swing that axe each day.

We will die someday. We all will taste death. The vanity of holding on as long as we can is human greed. I wonder if the reason we hold on is because our god lies within this world? I enjoy sex, I enjoy drugs, I even enjoy fighting but they are no longer my god. I have found that God holds so much for me. When I was high up in my tree of darkness the one and true God made sure I did not fall and die beside my earthly god. My god almost killed me several times, but my Father fought my god and won. He did place the axe in my hand and placed me beside it to remind me of the lessons taught. I see and feel things that I never felt while doing the will of my earthly god. The true Father has opened my eyes and heart to see so much more then a fleeting high. My struggles are still my struggles. My darkness is still my darkness. It will be until I die. (Lord come quick.)

The pot holes that I have dug and allowed others to fall in are being slowly filled in, the darkness I left them in is regret that stayed with me. But God took that from me. To do what I know I can do is all I can do. I am sorry that I offered them the dark pit, but I will offer my hand for them to get out. Rather they accept that is up to them. They can choose to stay and slap my hand away, building a home there and use their tears to bathe in. Never realizing the hand that is offered. It is not just my hand that is offered, I can only reach down so far. But God holds me by the feet so I can reach them.

I ask again: “What is your darkness?” What is the seed that was planted when you were but a seed? A girl was sexually abused when she was a child. This girl is beautiful, probably around 17 now. Her father sexually abused her as a child. Her mind did not progress past the age of three, and she is in a care facility. She is in diapers and she masturbates throughout the day. The worthless shit that called himself her dad, has not been caught. He is out of the country, avoiding the law. Climbing higher in his sorry, dirty, filthy tree. I try and imagine what his childhood was like. His darkness that was given to him from his dad, or even on down in the genealogical cesspool. That line stopped with her as far as I know. She was the dead end because generation after generation no one acknowledged the darkness that lorded over them. But I still offer prayers for the filth of a man. That he might see his wrongs, the devastation and the life he stole. Climb down his tree, give himself up so he will pay for what he wrought.

I also carry hate in me sometimes that I need to let go of. It is for people like him that I would just love to punch and beat until he could not move. But that is the blessing from my Father. I find it is easier to pray that justice wins, and if it does not come to him on this earth then it will after. I find it easier to let my God handle the outcome, and let go of the anger that boils inside. It is not easy. I hate the sins of rape, child molestation, spousal abuse of both genders, and child abuse. These set me off more then anything else. But I have no jurisdiction over these things besides stepping in and stopping it. After the legal outlets, I have nothing else to offer but the power of my God.

Admit your darkness, struggle with it, give it to God and never forget it. Do this before your tree roots up to others, ties into their struggles and adds to it. Before the ground around you causes pits in the soil that others will fall in. Will you be able to rest in peace knowing what you left behind?

-My Thanksgiving thanks is that I will not have to live an eternity here hacking away at my tree. I cannot wait to hear the bells ring. I am thankful for that peace and understanding.

D.

Rambling Thoughts of an Addict – 11-20-’08

Cocaine has me by the balls. Meth has me by the throat. Ice has me by the long finger because it is only a substitute when nothing else can be found.

I no longer crave what I crave when I want it. When I want it; I feel I cannot have it. When I can have it, I no longer want it.

ADD meds and coffee have become my Morphine and chocolate. After all it is all legal anyway, huh? A poor man’s high. It is like drying banana peels to smoke, anything will do, even if it is just for a headache.

The leaves have fallen off the trees and it gives me a morbidly warm feeling. My wife went to Colorado a month ago, and one of her young great-nieces said that she does not like seeing the ‘nakey trees, because they make her sad.’ Good for her. I enjoy them myself. I revel in their emptiness. I rejoice in their death of hibernation and in the Spring I relish the thought of their resurection. I dread what is coming after that though, the Summer.

Most people cannot wait for the Summer time to arrive and many travel further south to escape Winter. I never figured out why. I know there is a reason for the seasons, but Summer is the one that I can do without. I probably think like this because it is the exception and not the norm. I might think of it as being encompassed by the loneliness that comes with Winter and the shelter it brings me. Hell, I don’t know. I enjoy watching the kids enjoy the snow. I like the snow because it covers everything, and everything is the same covered in white. It is pure.

I also like the rain. I enjoy the gentle rains and the storms that come blowing in. There is a comfort to that also. It cleanses everything. I used to enjoy getting stoned and watching the snow or rain. No one would bother me. If I was in a run down crack house I would enjoy it even more. Either a gas heater or a fire that was built by some stoner or shooter. Hearing the rain leak down from the holes in the ceiling. Dry rotted floors whose glory days are long gone. Old dried up wallpaper that was peeling in every spot, revealing an old piece of naked dry wall. A record, eight track, or cassette player with Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Dylan, even Johnny Cash would do. Sometimes old blues, or real original Soul music. Not hip-hop under the name of soul music, but real soul music. Sometimes Robert Johnson the blues great would be playing.

It didn’t matter much what was on. It is funny; my house where I was raised and lived with my parents, was not a home. But these places I woke up at were ten times worse. A hundred times worse, felt more like a home. They are what I attached my memories to. I had good memories at times at my parents house. It is where I learned to play different musical instruments. My Aunt Bunny, my mothers sister, had a band in Oklahoma that traveled around playing and they would stop by sometimes and play for us. I had already taken piano lessons but it did not satisfy me being taught something. I had the urge to learn things on my own. I did so with the guitar. I asked my Aunt’s lesbian girlfriend, who played guitar in her band, if she had any advice. She did not show me any chords really except the basics. But she told me the way she learned was by watching the Grand Ol’ Opry, and some other shows. I had the Grand Ol’ Opry, Hee-Haw, The Smother Brothers, Johnny Cash Variety Show, Pop Goes The Country, and other shows like that.

Of course there we did not have cable at that time, much less a VCR, or DVR. So I would sit at the television waiting for the camera to show the fingering of the guitar player. After that I never owned a bass guitar but I played one in a couple of bands that I was in. After awhile I could play a Sitar, a little on the banjo, some on the violin. I was playing anything that I could pick up and teach myself as fast as I could. I never could play the drums. One thing I wish I could play but can’t. My mom’s side of the family was very dysfunctional, not because my Aunt was a lesbian, that was fine. But they were very dysfunctional in a lot of ways, but they were musically inclined. I probably took after that side of the family which is okay with me. I will tell you proudly of any dysfunction in my family because it makes us normal. The only reason I would keep anything under my hat is out of respect of others in my family.

My Grandmother on my dad’s side was artistic. I had, or still have I don’t know, an Uncle that was an Entomologist, and could draw very well. He taught me how to draw dinosaurs, which later became dragons. My Grandmother taught me the basics of drawing. She would sometimes draw a wiggly line then she would tell me to make a picture out of it. I really enjoyed that. I took those skills and transferred them to painting, scratch boards, graphite, computer art, but my favorite media has to be pen and ink.

As I started getting stoned my art and my songs became darker and darker. I found comfort in them while others found the darkness in them. Wondered why I did not draw and play lighter stuff. I did not want to for one thing. I could not find the light in me. Actually, they made me happy at the time. I enjoyed looking at the pictures, and listening to the songs. When I was wigging out I did some of my best stuff. I would take my guitar to a party; leave, do a quarter, come back grab the guitar and play Hendrix. I just looked at it and it would seem so easy. Just like drawing, I would love a blank page because it would slowly become whatever. I never started a picture with an idea in mind, I would just let it become whatever wanted to come out.

I did not need the drugs to come up with any of that, I had it inside me anyway. I just didn’t have the confidence to bring it out. I have started to listen to Dylan a lot more, it makes me sad, and leaves me feeling alone as I listen to his tales. But I enjoy it never the less. I look at my old pictures and they have become something different to me. I pick up the guitar and all I can play is haunting tunes. When I draw now, I always go to a dark picture. I try and do Angels now but they either hide their face, or they are dark. I no longer find solace in either.

When I was motor heading, I enjoyed Cocaine better then Meth but Meth would last longer. Some people will tell you that Cocaine is more pure then Meth. Meth does have more toxins in it, but that is why people have to cut Cocaine. Pure Cocaine can kill someone. It is from the coca leaves as you might already know, but the manufacturing of it is not just the leave. After they mush up the leaves diesel fuel, regular gas and another fuel is used until a white glob comes out of the mixture. It is usually shipped like that and it is up to the runner to cut it. What they cut it with varies, making what someone gets from the street either shitty, decent, great, or deadly. I used to wonder what caused an explosion in freebasing Coke. That is it. We used to get a rock put it in a spoon and pour a spoonful of bleach over it. Then put a lighter under it until the bleach evaporated and left a soggy glob to put on the copper wire for the pipe. Then we would smoke, and smoke. Line and line. Left, went into town, came back smoked and lined some more. I would do it again if I had not been guided to where I am now.

This is from one of my old songs. I don’t like it anymore, but it shows where my brain was at.

Coke has me by the balls. Meth by the throat. I find myself
face down drinking in my filth as I float. Spiraling down in the emptiness I call life. Speed becomes my one true friend. As the suicide welcomes the knife.
The toxin goes down through the back of my throat, another drink of whiskey to quite the choke.

My nose is bleeding, my mind is alive. Nothing I can’t do, the drug is the only thing I can’t survive. I climb as far as I can,  but I have lost my high. I curl up, as the emptiness seeps in. Nowhere else to turn, I have hit the ceiling and wait to die. Waking up sleep deprived again, blurry eyed but focused on the world that is so real. I take another line of the snake that bit me, alive I begin to feel. With dread all around I hang my head low, this is what I have become with nothing to show. I lost myself, I lost my soul. I lost my insight, I lost the fold.

“..Doctor says it will kill ya, but he don’t say when.” – Cocaine Blues by Rev. Gary Davis  (covered by Bob Dylan)

Blind Willie McTell-Bob Dylan