Today is Friday, March 25th 2005 at 10:14 pm (PST).
My name is Christopher Reed Sgamma and this is my Friday night.
Let me tell you about my life. I'm twenty three years old, I was born Jan 6th 1982 in W.V. I lived with my parents, younger sister (18 months apart), and younger brother (5 years apart) on a farm in rual Pennsylvania until Feb 1989 when my fathers employer transferred him to Las Vegas which brings me to the town I grew up in.
Flash forward to my senior year in high school (1999-2000). Everything is on the up n up in my life as far as I'm concerned. Lifes pitfalls amount to my parents divorcing after 17 years of marriage (mom's midlifer), I went to juvy on a petty marijana possession, and not being able to have the freedom I think I deserve.
A quick sum up would go like this.
'Status-quo perfect uprising monthly' would have loved my family for a feature.
FOR EVERY ACTION THERE IS AN EQUAL AND OPPOSITE REACTION.
If this were a movie trailer, now is where the instrumentals begin.
In January 2001 I was introduced to the single biggest mistake of my life.
Methamphetamine.
I first smoke with a middle school friend of mine in his grungy room with a younger droogie of mine. Bliss.
What can I say, if you've gone fast you know, if you haven't DON'T EVER FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT.
I started zipping about once a week as most do when they first dabble in a new substance. Yeah the crash sucked and I hated what it did to my skin as far as acne and blemishes. For the most part though it was a weekend occurance that rarely cost me more than $40 a time.
Time travel to August 2003.
I break up with a wonderful girl named Tara because I think I need to experience things a bit more. Two years in and I get cold feet. Whatever. Oh yeah, a month later she tells me how much of a piece of shit I am for doing speed the whole time behind her back, cheating on her with a friend of hers, a little more with the loser-worthless-routine. To sink my feelings as if they could go any lower she had to add that I'm going to end up just like her father. He was a great guy, too bad he died two weeks prior. Alone and a meth habit to boot. The clincher, that's what killed him.
So you can see where this is going to end up.
But not quite yet. I shake off that tease of a warning sign and jump feet fucking first into the 'friends and fun' meth has to bring. I'm smoking 500+ a month, September, October, November, December, January. I bring 2 friends in, 3 more, a couple here and a few there. They do the same.
Fire spreads fast if the right fuel is used.
Basically every single person I came in contact with was a doper. Only problem is, they're 15-18 and wondering what the hell life has to offer them. I provide a temporary sence of what it is.
Smile time. I met a girl. We shared a bath. Ummmmmmm-hmmmmmmmmm. Drugs work wonders and before you know it you can't think of a sexual desire that hasen't been taken care of.
But hey, live fast die young. Right?
A month later and I have a new girlfriend. Together we would poof probably about 284 of the 340 days of our relationship. Yeah and I'm surprised when she finally gets bored and seeks greener pastures. When you're based on shit that's all you can amount to. Shit.
So that leaves me jobless for 9 months (fired july 2004, overslept too much) about 13,000+ in dept, a car that's barely hanging on and a desire to live that's even thinner than that. All my friends are burned up, the ones that don't, I talk to about twice a year. Everything that I've ever had or achieved feels worthless because I am shit. Or dope. Or ice. Or whatever the kids outback say to think they're schnazzy.
IT IS NOT COOL.
I'm very alone, when I'm around people we talk shit about all of those we know and how fucking shady they are. Deep down we all know we only care about ourselves but mostly we care about dope.
In reality that's what I've become and I don't think I can be fixed.
I wish I could erase that one glorious night my father cummed in my mother and viola, a bouncing baby burnout.
Nothing I try and nothing I'm too scared to try helps.
I'm not crying right now.
I don't think I'll even cry later on.
I just drop little hints around my friends as we boil our lives away and hope that one of them really does something to help.
I wonder what that something is however.
A real friend would steal me a gun and be sweet enough to leave me at least two bullets. You know, in case I miss.
I think of death and how it must feel to just do nothing and everyone/everything in the universe is ok with it. I'm nothing now, but the collectors won't stop calling.
I have a million thoughts to type but fuck my arms are getting lazy. I guess I better go light my fire before I crash. God forbid I miss a step and sleep for a while.
Anyway, thanks for reading. If you actually did.
(B)It's hare to admit but, YES this is my pathetic cry for help. I don't get any non drug related attention and this is my current sob story.(/B) I know this is a drug story so it's also drug related but I figure that at LEAST I'll attract some of those that talk down on quacks like me.
So give me whatever you will. I'd really appreciate that.
End for now. 3-25-2005 10:58 pm
Christopher Reed Sgamma
My name is Christopher Reed Sgamma and this is my Friday night.
Let me tell you about my life. I'm twenty three years old, I was born Jan 6th 1982 in W.V. I lived with my parents, younger sister (18 months apart), and younger brother (5 years apart) on a farm in rual Pennsylvania until Feb 1989 when my fathers employer transferred him to Las Vegas which brings me to the town I grew up in.
Flash forward to my senior year in high school (1999-2000). Everything is on the up n up in my life as far as I'm concerned. Lifes pitfalls amount to my parents divorcing after 17 years of marriage (mom's midlifer), I went to juvy on a petty marijana possession, and not being able to have the freedom I think I deserve.
A quick sum up would go like this.
'Status-quo perfect uprising monthly' would have loved my family for a feature.
FOR EVERY ACTION THERE IS AN EQUAL AND OPPOSITE REACTION.
If this were a movie trailer, now is where the instrumentals begin.
In January 2001 I was introduced to the single biggest mistake of my life.
Methamphetamine.
I first smoke with a middle school friend of mine in his grungy room with a younger droogie of mine. Bliss.
What can I say, if you've gone fast you know, if you haven't DON'T EVER FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT.
I started zipping about once a week as most do when they first dabble in a new substance. Yeah the crash sucked and I hated what it did to my skin as far as acne and blemishes. For the most part though it was a weekend occurance that rarely cost me more than $40 a time.
Time travel to August 2003.
I break up with a wonderful girl named Tara because I think I need to experience things a bit more. Two years in and I get cold feet. Whatever. Oh yeah, a month later she tells me how much of a piece of shit I am for doing speed the whole time behind her back, cheating on her with a friend of hers, a little more with the loser-worthless-routine. To sink my feelings as if they could go any lower she had to add that I'm going to end up just like her father. He was a great guy, too bad he died two weeks prior. Alone and a meth habit to boot. The clincher, that's what killed him.
So you can see where this is going to end up.
But not quite yet. I shake off that tease of a warning sign and jump feet fucking first into the 'friends and fun' meth has to bring. I'm smoking 500+ a month, September, October, November, December, January. I bring 2 friends in, 3 more, a couple here and a few there. They do the same.
Fire spreads fast if the right fuel is used.
Basically every single person I came in contact with was a doper. Only problem is, they're 15-18 and wondering what the hell life has to offer them. I provide a temporary sence of what it is.
Smile time. I met a girl. We shared a bath. Ummmmmmm-hmmmmmmmmm. Drugs work wonders and before you know it you can't think of a sexual desire that hasen't been taken care of.
But hey, live fast die young. Right?
A month later and I have a new girlfriend. Together we would poof probably about 284 of the 340 days of our relationship. Yeah and I'm surprised when she finally gets bored and seeks greener pastures. When you're based on shit that's all you can amount to. Shit.
So that leaves me jobless for 9 months (fired july 2004, overslept too much) about 13,000+ in dept, a car that's barely hanging on and a desire to live that's even thinner than that. All my friends are burned up, the ones that don't, I talk to about twice a year. Everything that I've ever had or achieved feels worthless because I am shit. Or dope. Or ice. Or whatever the kids outback say to think they're schnazzy.
IT IS NOT COOL.
I'm very alone, when I'm around people we talk shit about all of those we know and how fucking shady they are. Deep down we all know we only care about ourselves but mostly we care about dope.
In reality that's what I've become and I don't think I can be fixed.
I wish I could erase that one glorious night my father cummed in my mother and viola, a bouncing baby burnout.
Nothing I try and nothing I'm too scared to try helps.
I'm not crying right now.
I don't think I'll even cry later on.
I just drop little hints around my friends as we boil our lives away and hope that one of them really does something to help.
I wonder what that something is however.
A real friend would steal me a gun and be sweet enough to leave me at least two bullets. You know, in case I miss.
I think of death and how it must feel to just do nothing and everyone/everything in the universe is ok with it. I'm nothing now, but the collectors won't stop calling.
I have a million thoughts to type but fuck my arms are getting lazy. I guess I better go light my fire before I crash. God forbid I miss a step and sleep for a while.
Anyway, thanks for reading. If you actually did.
(B)It's hare to admit but, YES this is my pathetic cry for help. I don't get any non drug related attention and this is my current sob story.(/B) I know this is a drug story so it's also drug related but I figure that at LEAST I'll attract some of those that talk down on quacks like me.
So give me whatever you will. I'd really appreciate that.
End for now. 3-25-2005 10:58 pm
Christopher Reed Sgamma
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
Good luck.
:tuffy:
Lecture over....
sigh, I don't want you to think I am a bitch... because I do care what you are going through. I sincerely hope that you take my words to heart and the words of all the others who wrote to you. You can do it. If you need to vent, vent to me anytime. I wish the best for you. You can do this.
xoxo
Dreams