Addict name Carlton. I am revising my life for the better.
It is about time I retire with the experience I have I won’t miss nothing. I am tired of working for nothing! I got to examine my portfolio. So far what I see is I'm going 2 take my no pension compensation fund less ass down the street (on a all but no expenses paid trip) pass making a quick stop, waiting 4 5 minutes aka 2 hours, till the next package arrives. Today, I am more then satisfied with the re-up informed formation of my new power- the 12 steps. I am no longer an addict, no more denial or refusing to admit I am powerless with and without. I can’t piss on my camp fires expecting different results (like trying to cop drugs in front of the police station). Firemen can told me I would have an easier times putting out forest fires in Cali.
Y don’t I just cash in my 401k, is that the same as keno? Oh how can I forget my stocks and bonds or should I? Yeah now I am talking. I can really blow up now with my limit being negative ZERO. Then I got all these mofo’s, who didn’t give a shit about me, wanting something. For once we think alike, you don’t mind shit to me either. I hope they like that beautiful unseen parting gift, NOTHING. Today, I got nothing but options, the man behind the counter at Burger King, told me, “I can have it my way!”
I am going 2 march my ass right down 2 the office and get my vacation, sick, and comp time, I didn’t have a chance 2 use. Or put it 2 u like this I wouldn’t admit openly I was sick, but I am. I must be retarded or something, because I showed up for work everyday with my grind tools. My job description state, come prepared, get mine and whoever else’s everyday no matter how hazards it was that day.
I always had a way with street back home and running them here in Baltimore I thought was going to be a piece of cake, this is what the disease told me. It always used that slogan “the city that never sleep,” it renamed it when it said it to me, “the Nigga that would never sleep or accept being broke!” The disease with its cunning and flashing way it used its words often schooled me. It said, I, meaning me, ain’t tired. I argued and said, so what I’m broke. The disease pimp slapped me with this, If you get locked up you are nor sleepy, tired, or broke, because as long as someone got what you want you either going to trade, take it, or buy it. I wasn’t down with sleeping with no one for that shit. I am only talking about me, if I kept using or going to jail anything would have been possible. I am only talking about me. Then it continued, if you were in the hospital I will send a nigga to where ever you at, ICU, the emergency room, and even the operating room to get that gate shot money. No place is off limits and if you believe in me, you won’t have to go drugless. When it told me I would never be drugless, that was one of the many lies I saw.
After a while the cons, hustles, and rustling came and went. I wasn’t no stranger to what I always knew worked, A BITCH. Not any ordinary bitch. She could get high, but no Dope!!! I wasn’t going to be with no addict nodding around in the trenches. I would geek with one, but I refuse to nod with one. Later that too would change and I found out the hard way about breaking my own rules.
When I felt I had burnt down London Bridges my old ways made me rob my graveyard (bitches i left). Soon that bitch I was looking for came in the form of an alcoholic. That was the cheapest high I could find. She didn’t require much and I wasn’t turning her on to my stash, because I thought before God I was doing a good job hiding I was getting high. I swear I thought she was dumb or naïve or something, because she went to work faithfully just to give me her check on Friday, minus a few dollars. Soon I had just stopped visiting the zoo and I started traveling with the circus. I was one of them clowns, I was the evil one, that wasn’t kid friendly, I had no type of human relations and of course I isolated myself from everyone who wasn’t using, kids included. I was comfortable with being choked out by the disease.
Talk about being caught. I wasn’t up or down, I was trapped. I had an alcoholic and me being one too, I had the best of both my spiritual sins. Shit I was always claiming I was going to build up myself and climb out this trench. I didn’t know I was so much like every addict that ever got high. Shit I didn’t feel comfortable now, unless I was around another addict, so you know I had my grand opening of the House of Addiction. Better not had listen any one tell you it was a recovery house in 1600 block McCulloh Street in the penthouse. I can admit you wouldn’t have been no volunteer when you knocked on the door, but once you cross that door ceil, hang up. Victims and Volunteers exchanged roles from day to day. Someday was always using my house to relapse and deny they had a reservation, but know they made a reservation with me days or months in advance. I told them the door will be open when you get here, if not just ring the bell. I wasn’t mad at them as much as they was at me for making it easy for them to resume fucking up their life. I told them it take more then 12 steps to climb to this penthouse, so you better think it out carefully. They didn’t and I taxed them like I was Uncle Sam. The disease told me too. They had no choice to pay me good money and most times I was paid just to keep my door open and my mouth SHUT. I felt like I was running a witness protection program hiding recovering addicts from their home groups, just for a lot more in the beginning.
To me two addicts of any kind get together they could build back up the towers in days. Little did I know we can also tear it down in moments. The disease seen too it I was greedy. It convinced me the power I had over certain people was building up self obsession of my self centeredness. It ordered me to believe I should be grateful I was using it and had a source available 24-7. I had me a house only few knew about my grand opening and they had to bring something to the table, because Freebie died along with Gimmie. Hell a lot of mother fuckers who fucked with me wished they was Freebie or Gimmie. See when I got that girl, who got me that girl, the world changed from meek to a geek. See coke sent me on suicide missions with weapons. The disease said, I could get away with anything and for years I believed that. I had not care in the universe. I would spend this girl check like I worked for it. Ask me, if I cared? I didn’t even care about bill, who ever the fuck he thought he was. He better bring something to table and I am not talking about them orders, requests, or negotiations papers signed by the judge.
Soon my ego got relentless, it was only a shield to hide the fact I was on paranoia alert, I did say to myself secretly, that coke was going to commit me eventually to somebody institution. I am talking about me, but some can relate, because they been there. I was so bad at one point I didn’t go to the mail box for weeks. I had more mail in my tiny box then the mail man had in his bag. I was avoiding the turn off this and that, I want this back, and we on our way to repo our shit type of notes. I was happy the sheriff was taking his sweet time to act on me ignoring their order to discuss my rental status. I wasn’t going to nobody court. That would be like snitching on my disease. I couldn’t tell the judge Cocaine was the reason my rent was not late, I had no intention of paying it. That was my status on the matter. The cable and phone were the only smart asses. They hooked up their shit outside so when ever they wanted to they could confiscate their shit back. They better had because the disease said, “fuck them pay attention to me.”
Hell yea, I am retiring with pleasure, no longer will I worry about not getting fired from a fired-proof job, using. I might not rob peter to pay Paul and find out Paul robbed my ass in return, I’m talking about getting burnt and can’t do shit about it. Try running back into a mutha fucker after he burn you. If you do it might be months or years later, I guarantee that. So I know I will have nothing to fear! I am damn sure not going 2 forget where there is no jobs on a corner hollering help wanted. I don’t need a needle point pen or stem to sign away my money. No, I won’t apply no more 4 a pin cushion, hazardous, harmful position with low wages. I am volunteering either for jail or institutions research programs. I like using the keys to my house, it is way more better then some out of shape gorilla looking C.O with longer esteem then you, or she wouldn’t be working there. No degree required to be a turn key. Just for day I am enjoying and using it every day to realize, I don’t need no fuckin no experience necessary to get sum experience job the disease is interviewing for. I got the experience now and I don’t never want forget. That just keeps me from resubmitting my application.
