I love rain, its really this moment I love, when Its slightly cool , dark , lit by neon signs .... rainy. I walk down to Mill Ave from Farmer St. by way of alley. The side-walk was loose brick and I'm feeling that thirst I have trouble filling, seemingly my whole life I've felt this with no explanation. Someone I've never met, a person, an energy, I felt, pulling me, I pause , turned and opened the door to an empty brass-rail. There was a shaker , a mixologist not the usual brand. The sides of her head were shaved , brunette ,pale , tank-top, faint scars everywhere , and tattoo on her neck I couldn't make out , She had green eyes and the look she gave me was more than lost, it was penetrating on so many levels, I could feel my body heat. I knew than this wasn't just attraction it was to become my new addiction. I'm the type that collects addictions and sometimes I put one on the shelf to reopen at a later time, mostly likely to fit a specific need. Don't you think its funny that poison will take away the pain but will kill you in the end . For me the first beat of my heart towards her, was like cutting my throat, feeling warm from the blood flowing down my neck, and cold while I die, all at once. I wonder if she felt so deeply, if she knew. We now have been locked in a gaze for seconds, and my eyes tell all, I have no choice, I fear the echo of this moment, dangerous, like a junky that fears withdrawal right before they get high , I'm the sort that draws strength from a shared loved and falls to pieces and self-destructs over a divided one, this green eyed wonder could crush me and bring the Dragon off the shelf and into my veins. How one pain can ease another. We shared some words...........this memory is like a fading dream and I remember talking, feeling her in front of me, taking all of her in for those brief moments. Before I went , I placed the money for my drink in her hand , we touched , it was a spark that caused the smolder that grew into the fire, my fire for her, she knew. The walk home was cold , the cool breeze blew straight through my jacket, chilling my heart and spine. The thoughts of her were warming and haunting. " You have been here before " the soft voice in my head whispers. I could feel her in the shadows of my soul. Her name was Lane.
I've felt offset my whole life. The relationships I carried on were always broken, I felt like they were parts I was playing, instead of a love which was naturally shared, pure and imperfect, a grown appreciation , the feeling of togetherness that would fight and protect itself against the rest. All the deception and hate in this world, why do those who dare to love us are the ones who truly deceive us. I dreamed of understanding , I dreamed of being wanted, needed, desired. since I was a boy I dreamed of love , now 26 , I only knew pieces , I have never desired lust, I feel the human condition strives for lust like a drug , only relieving small parts of the hearts desire temporarily and poisoning parts of the soul permanently causing deep scarring which plague me to this day . I hoped for lane, if not for her than the idea of her , I would visit that bar more than a few times. We fit each other it was like this invisible puzzle being put together , it was almost like she knew details about me, it was like we knew each other because we were mirrors of each other, opposite but the same in every way. I was even playing a part to hide myself and my addictions, but there was no hiding this time , no part to play, A scarred man seeks the woman of torment, pain, and desire. The scars she bear weren't ones of loves victory but those of hates strafe, deception.She had asked me to walk her home . It took about twenty minutes, seeming like seconds we laughed and talked , I gave her a little push she punched my arm , I felt like I was 10 years old walking to the bus stop with my only friend. It turned out that she lived just across the way, as I said goodbye she grew closer , an unexpected move towards me, rapidly, her lips touched mine and than the unexpected, the coldest darkest kiss I had ever received , it felt like she was drawing my life from me to warm hers, like her heart was the best kept secret. Beating with passion for me but in a cage of regret and remorse , I knew right away this was a Gun-Street girl. I was the wolf taken by the lam , seduced for the feeding of her soul , like a demon feeds but yet I would still be drawn to her, my scars love sorrow , my heart desired pain .She knew what I really was, like so many parts I'd played in this poisoned life this would turn out to be the one that broke my hearts last piece, jading me to the core. I heard a man once say" losing all hope is freedom" that may be true but its the coldest spot you'll ever stand on. lane , the Gun-Street girl , broke my last piece , a vampire drinks its victim , she would consume me just the same, there could of been love but like the junky looking for a fix, she enjoyed scarring me, it was her high and I couldn't deny her of that, her abuse of me was my new found addiction. However it was short lived. Lane.....haunts my dreams, still today, and follows me sometimes,I even see her out of the corner of my eye having to do a double take before she vanishes.
I have been alone for the last two years and the dragon is nipping at my soul and on occasion consuming me within its flames , I dream of poppy fields , I'm now 28, a shell of the man I once was I'm in need of mending, my fear is that I may choose to bleed myself out letting the dragon consume me completely , and what a cold goodbye would that be. Its easier to take the path of lust and drugs but not as for-filling and won't bring me memories of unborn children and a lover I wake up to with a kiss of unconditional love. Hold the hands of those you walk with, protect them from sorrow, and stand up for them if their voice does not carry and carry them over the painful puddles of life. I shall seek , I shall find. I shall protect with every drop of blood and fight for what I truly believe in, love and that love will set me free of the dragon's desire.
This is part like in every story when we take a few steps back to get some perspective , the year 2001 . I was 19 the date was october 24, my birthday. At the time I was involved with a girl name Missy , she was on the extreme end of the "hardcore bitch" spectrum. I remember once she had come over with four knuckle imprints on her forehead from a fight she had gotten into. This was also a time in my life when the dragon had replaced my soul . This brown sugar known as heroin would replace love in my life, filling that place with a dark demon that hunts you daily , filling you with love and hopelessness all at the same time . That morning Missy had called me , recommending we get a hotel room and some H to celebrate, at the time this was what I considered to be love. I also had an attitude that would get me into trouble with the kind of people now serving time for life. The same time I was dealing and trading all sorts of things for my drug, it had its hooks in me deep. I worked as a cook as well but the money wasn't enough. At the time I was having words with a man named D , we never got along , fighting and stand-off's seemed common. He was the only way I could get H3 . That night I had a funny feeling so I loaded my crappy 9mm vintage pistol, and took the four thousand dollars of play money out of my wallet and put it in my socks. D came over to our usual meeting house , Dave's. D was really nice, it made me feel uneasy, we never had such easy dealings, I bought the Dragon desire "20 points" , he was on his way out. I released the door handle from my hand , the door was on a spring so it closed by itself, just as the door was about to click shut . A man wearing a skull mask kicked the door back open , cocking a sliver shot-gun , the sound echos, everything slows down, he was right in front of me , not far, my first reaction was just to grab the shot-gun, so there we were all hands on the gun and the gun parallel between us. The fight was on, I had this idea in my head that if I yanked the gun really hard there wouldn't be anyway he could hold on. So here I went , yanking, and flying through the room , landing on the couch , chest down , gun across my chest, this fucker was on my back in no time, if you have been to the house where people party ,"the dope house" you know that there are empty beer bottles, glass bongs, and all sorts of blunt objects everywhere, so he starts smashing empty beer bottles over my head, I began to wondering if yanking that gun was really such a good idea. He also started to reach for my gun, but lucky for me it was such an old piece of shit that the clip fell out as soon as he got it into his hand. ha, ha, than he picked up this thick glass bong , smashing it down over my head , breaking the round bulb at the bottom, the smoke tube stayed intact and with a nice big triangle shard of broken glass at the bottom, it came down cutting my neck open, at which point I gave up , there was so much blood pouring over my face from beer bottles being broken over my head , my eyes burned I couldn't see and there was that iron taste in my mouth , there I was on my knees , bloody, defeated , and bleeding profusely from the left side of my neck . Than he said the dumbest fucking thing i've ever heard " give me your wallet" , with a smile I didn't reveal I handed it over , he ran out the door immediately after grabbing my empty wallet and shot-gun. I was on the phone with Missy, politely requesting to be picked up early. I was kinda in a good mood, I loved getting a good shit kicking anyway , I had the Dragon in my pocket, money in my socks , a beautiful woman coming to pick me up and at that time in my life I have never cared for another so much . She took me to Walmart first , to pick-up medical supplies , all I remember is how white-bright that store was and how blood red I was, small drops of blood on the white floor followed me were ever I went and so did everyones eyes. As we arrived at the hotel I remember a tear or two in Missy's eyes. I asked her why, she told me she didn't like seeing people she loved in pain. It was the first time in my life I heard that, and felt it, it was a false love, but for the moment it was as real as it gets. She washed my wounds , cleaned some of the glass out of my flesh, wrapped, taped, and put that gel stuff where it needed to be. The first puff of that warm sugar taste , the dragon a warm friend indeed , i could feel the meld of our bodies as my pain turned slowly into pleasure. Her hand on the back of my neck , her lips , wanting , touching, connecting. That night I would discover that the closer you come to death to closer you also come to life. I could of been dead but instead I was where few go . In the warm embrace of two types of love , a woman's and a dragon's. The word sex isn't one I would use to describe what happened I don't think I have such words to explain what went on between us that night. As we became part of each other for a moment or two , I knew this was one of those times that would stick with me forever. Tonight I learned more about myself than most ever do, I knew I was a fighter, I knew when death comes calling I would fight and not give in so easy. I found that love can mend , scars are like tattoo's you always remember the day you get them and remember why you got them.
Missy lived in a small one bedroom apartment , with her mother and two brothers , one older , one younger . I'm not sure what really happen but somehow the front window got smashed. Missy slept on the couch , it was a cold winter , she got sick. When I was a boy my Grandfather taught me how to cut and solder glass, stained glass work. So I showed up one morning with a soldering iron , copper foil , solder , and love for Missy. While she slept I foiled the outside edges of the glass window's broken pieces , It took hours to copper foil and arrange all the pieces correctly, love, its the sort of thing that it can do, like an angel's hand working through mine, a boy who's torment made him feel so bent could still do such things for love. I had soldered the whole window back together, i left without a word. That family never said a word to me about it , nor did missy. till this day I don't understand why, I didn't need a thank you , I just thought is was strange they never said anything about it. I only had few dealings with Missy after that but one night my friend River wanted to tell me something about the situation with her new roommate. Missy saw me walk into another room with River, she left within a few seconds of me entering the room, made-out with my friend, I guess to spite me, at this point I knew , it was never love, just a moment shared by two people. Like a peddle falling from a rose , such things can never be mended. How could I ever look at her the same again. The first time you stare at the sun you realize it can blind you, so you don't look back. Sometimes a moment shared is a lesson learned, leaving you scarred and you'll remember all those little details , like shards of glass in your skin.
Life , like a journey , it has two defining points , a beginning and an end , and also like a journey its not the destination that matters its everything in between that make it a journey, life , you are what you know. I'm a young man, 28 . Trying to escape the grasp of the Dragon once more, but he fills me with the warmth of love , its not as for filling as the touch of a woman , but its always guaranteed to fill you with love , while the love that comes from a woman can be used to twist and manipulate you if your ignorant, young or in love with the wrong woman. The question , wait, rather there is no question, there is only her, the answer, but there is no manner of thinking that can summon up this answer, this answer must be found, even fought for at times , but like the leaves on a tree it can change on you. I never once intentional deceived a woman's love for me, I always considered deception weak, it doesn't even reside in my blood, I have the a brutal contempt for men, I love bleeding a weak man to make him stronger , take the chip off a young man's shoulder and iron will grow over the wound. I loved to lock horns. Since I've been a boy I've been a ball of fire , fury, rage. The blood that flows through my veins is sometimes poison, but at times proud and even proud of the scars I bear. I feel they were like patches a boy-scout gets , they were scars I had to earn.
Another piece of my story starts when I was 23 , I moved to an apartment complex on 40th St. & CamelBack . Just down the block from where I worked , PF Chang's in downtown Scottsdale , I was a Sous Chef . I lived in those types of apartments where you shared a large hallway with your neighbors. One day coming home the hallway smelled like the rankest dank I have ever smelled , it was like having a minty pine tree up your nose just walking down the hallway almost seem to get you high. One night I'm out on my paddy-o talking on the phone smoking a bowl , my neighbor sticks her head around the partition and just says " hey man, want to smoke " . I walked over to her apartment and there stood a short korean woman with a half sleeve , she was wearing a black corset , a canary yellow spanish dress with black lace around the bottom, blue contacts and long jet black hair. I could tell this girl had a demons wit and half a twist of poison in her blood. We became good friends , we hung out with other friends that lived in the complex including my best friend Gary , an ex-state trooper, I know, an unlikely friend , but the man grew weed. It was fun times , we would go out bar hoping down Indian school rd. where there were 30 dive bars and everyone of them had a jukebox and pool or other bar type games. It was candy and dandy till one night Abby and I decided to venture out on our own. We went to Kats with a K . There was a long stare from across the room , we suddenly became the only two people in the bar, as we traded the pool stick we were sharing in-between shots , we would touch ever so slightly each trade , on the hand , dust across the hip , fingers across the belly, an accidental bump . We took a yellow cab home, like a moth to the flame we were. This was a new kind of passion I'd not known , it was gripping. This connection was electric , she pulled me in , the kiss was magnetic, we went for hours. This is the way it started , one night leading into the next till it became love, and a fucked up love. Abby had money , she never went to work , she would carry thousands in cash on her. She would take me out for 300$ dinners. She bought me clothes . She even paid my rent after I got fired. Drive-in movies, the best pot, she smoked Nat Sherman's mint. I asked where she got her money , she told me she saved it for school but never went. Me and Gary joked it was from internet porn or something. One night Abby told me she loved me , right before telling me her story of how she became an escort , she would refer to herself as a modern day Geisha . I'm not the type to flip out, I just listened . Abby was adopted and had a bad upbringing by white parents who resented an asian child , she made it seem like this was her only choice to survive in the world , but I just couldn't do it , I walked out. I ended up at a friends house that night, I came home to a hole in my door, she had kicked a hole in the door, the next time she saw me she hit me in the face with a broom stick giving me a black eye. I had to move. This was the most fucked up relationship I've ever had. I was single after that, even now I'm scarred from that , any relationship I had after that I never let them get too close because I thought if I had to go through something like that again it would kill me, I was already using heroin to numb this.
For years I kept to myself investing myself in extreme downhill mountain biking , I became friends with Burns . He was my downhill partner , we ventured all over the southwest ridding the most narly trails, seeing the most beautiful mountains trails, nice small mountain towns. Smoking good weed at the summit was my favorite thing to do right before gearing up for the ride down, I loved to shred. He had moved to flagstaff last year , I was up there almost every week-end ridding , smoking , hanging out with new friends, I had discovered a new kind of people, Hippies. I wanted a hippie girlfriend what better kind of person to mend all that has happened than those who believe in love. Kind and loving , peaceful and true. But I had to take a detour from my life , my mother twisted her knee very bad and was unable to walk for months , and my sister did the same fucking thing the same week. With no family in town I thought it was best if I just moved home to become a care-taker . I could save a lot of money too, I want to move to the NorthWest , Oregon or Washington from Phoenix to find my hippie girlfriend and maybe just try to forget all the destructive relationships I've had. I thought this was a win win situation , my family gets help , I save money and would also fix up the house .Its too damn hot in Phoenix I've been here 13 years, I fucking hate the sunshine and there isn't any trees here . So every year we take a family trip to Comic-con San Diego ,after that I'm taking 6 weeks off work to drive cross country and visit the rest of my family in New York , I've already signed up on ride-share.com to find someone to split gas money with. After I come back I will have 15k saved and I'll continue to work till I pay off a little debt , get the tattoos I want , buy some new clothes and save a little more trip money. I'm planing on living with roommates to reduce the cost of living and hopefully become friends with, I look for roommate posts that say 420 friendly. I figured 15k will last awhile if i'm careful and work a part-time shit job. I've got till October I just hope I make it , I'm still fighting my heroin addiction, but I've been in treatment now for 2 months so it seems hopeful, but you never really know. I offer these last words , Live your life, do what you want, don't be afraid to feel or fight for what you believe in. love each other , and always hold your head up where ever you go. Viva Mia Zapata and listen to Tom Waits - Edward_H
I've felt offset my whole life. The relationships I carried on were always broken, I felt like they were parts I was playing, instead of a love which was naturally shared, pure and imperfect, a grown appreciation , the feeling of togetherness that would fight and protect itself against the rest. All the deception and hate in this world, why do those who dare to love us are the ones who truly deceive us. I dreamed of understanding , I dreamed of being wanted, needed, desired. since I was a boy I dreamed of love , now 26 , I only knew pieces , I have never desired lust, I feel the human condition strives for lust like a drug , only relieving small parts of the hearts desire temporarily and poisoning parts of the soul permanently causing deep scarring which plague me to this day . I hoped for lane, if not for her than the idea of her , I would visit that bar more than a few times. We fit each other it was like this invisible puzzle being put together , it was almost like she knew details about me, it was like we knew each other because we were mirrors of each other, opposite but the same in every way. I was even playing a part to hide myself and my addictions, but there was no hiding this time , no part to play, A scarred man seeks the woman of torment, pain, and desire. The scars she bear weren't ones of loves victory but those of hates strafe, deception.She had asked me to walk her home . It took about twenty minutes, seeming like seconds we laughed and talked , I gave her a little push she punched my arm , I felt like I was 10 years old walking to the bus stop with my only friend. It turned out that she lived just across the way, as I said goodbye she grew closer , an unexpected move towards me, rapidly, her lips touched mine and than the unexpected, the coldest darkest kiss I had ever received , it felt like she was drawing my life from me to warm hers, like her heart was the best kept secret. Beating with passion for me but in a cage of regret and remorse , I knew right away this was a Gun-Street girl. I was the wolf taken by the lam , seduced for the feeding of her soul , like a demon feeds but yet I would still be drawn to her, my scars love sorrow , my heart desired pain .She knew what I really was, like so many parts I'd played in this poisoned life this would turn out to be the one that broke my hearts last piece, jading me to the core. I heard a man once say" losing all hope is freedom" that may be true but its the coldest spot you'll ever stand on. lane , the Gun-Street girl , broke my last piece , a vampire drinks its victim , she would consume me just the same, there could of been love but like the junky looking for a fix, she enjoyed scarring me, it was her high and I couldn't deny her of that, her abuse of me was my new found addiction. However it was short lived. Lane.....haunts my dreams, still today, and follows me sometimes,I even see her out of the corner of my eye having to do a double take before she vanishes.
I have been alone for the last two years and the dragon is nipping at my soul and on occasion consuming me within its flames , I dream of poppy fields , I'm now 28, a shell of the man I once was I'm in need of mending, my fear is that I may choose to bleed myself out letting the dragon consume me completely , and what a cold goodbye would that be. Its easier to take the path of lust and drugs but not as for-filling and won't bring me memories of unborn children and a lover I wake up to with a kiss of unconditional love. Hold the hands of those you walk with, protect them from sorrow, and stand up for them if their voice does not carry and carry them over the painful puddles of life. I shall seek , I shall find. I shall protect with every drop of blood and fight for what I truly believe in, love and that love will set me free of the dragon's desire.
This is part like in every story when we take a few steps back to get some perspective , the year 2001 . I was 19 the date was october 24, my birthday. At the time I was involved with a girl name Missy , she was on the extreme end of the "hardcore bitch" spectrum. I remember once she had come over with four knuckle imprints on her forehead from a fight she had gotten into. This was also a time in my life when the dragon had replaced my soul . This brown sugar known as heroin would replace love in my life, filling that place with a dark demon that hunts you daily , filling you with love and hopelessness all at the same time . That morning Missy had called me , recommending we get a hotel room and some H to celebrate, at the time this was what I considered to be love. I also had an attitude that would get me into trouble with the kind of people now serving time for life. The same time I was dealing and trading all sorts of things for my drug, it had its hooks in me deep. I worked as a cook as well but the money wasn't enough. At the time I was having words with a man named D , we never got along , fighting and stand-off's seemed common. He was the only way I could get H3 . That night I had a funny feeling so I loaded my crappy 9mm vintage pistol, and took the four thousand dollars of play money out of my wallet and put it in my socks. D came over to our usual meeting house , Dave's. D was really nice, it made me feel uneasy, we never had such easy dealings, I bought the Dragon desire "20 points" , he was on his way out. I released the door handle from my hand , the door was on a spring so it closed by itself, just as the door was about to click shut . A man wearing a skull mask kicked the door back open , cocking a sliver shot-gun , the sound echos, everything slows down, he was right in front of me , not far, my first reaction was just to grab the shot-gun, so there we were all hands on the gun and the gun parallel between us. The fight was on, I had this idea in my head that if I yanked the gun really hard there wouldn't be anyway he could hold on. So here I went , yanking, and flying through the room , landing on the couch , chest down , gun across my chest, this fucker was on my back in no time, if you have been to the house where people party ,"the dope house" you know that there are empty beer bottles, glass bongs, and all sorts of blunt objects everywhere, so he starts smashing empty beer bottles over my head, I began to wondering if yanking that gun was really such a good idea. He also started to reach for my gun, but lucky for me it was such an old piece of shit that the clip fell out as soon as he got it into his hand. ha, ha, than he picked up this thick glass bong , smashing it down over my head , breaking the round bulb at the bottom, the smoke tube stayed intact and with a nice big triangle shard of broken glass at the bottom, it came down cutting my neck open, at which point I gave up , there was so much blood pouring over my face from beer bottles being broken over my head , my eyes burned I couldn't see and there was that iron taste in my mouth , there I was on my knees , bloody, defeated , and bleeding profusely from the left side of my neck . Than he said the dumbest fucking thing i've ever heard " give me your wallet" , with a smile I didn't reveal I handed it over , he ran out the door immediately after grabbing my empty wallet and shot-gun. I was on the phone with Missy, politely requesting to be picked up early. I was kinda in a good mood, I loved getting a good shit kicking anyway , I had the Dragon in my pocket, money in my socks , a beautiful woman coming to pick me up and at that time in my life I have never cared for another so much . She took me to Walmart first , to pick-up medical supplies , all I remember is how white-bright that store was and how blood red I was, small drops of blood on the white floor followed me were ever I went and so did everyones eyes. As we arrived at the hotel I remember a tear or two in Missy's eyes. I asked her why, she told me she didn't like seeing people she loved in pain. It was the first time in my life I heard that, and felt it, it was a false love, but for the moment it was as real as it gets. She washed my wounds , cleaned some of the glass out of my flesh, wrapped, taped, and put that gel stuff where it needed to be. The first puff of that warm sugar taste , the dragon a warm friend indeed , i could feel the meld of our bodies as my pain turned slowly into pleasure. Her hand on the back of my neck , her lips , wanting , touching, connecting. That night I would discover that the closer you come to death to closer you also come to life. I could of been dead but instead I was where few go . In the warm embrace of two types of love , a woman's and a dragon's. The word sex isn't one I would use to describe what happened I don't think I have such words to explain what went on between us that night. As we became part of each other for a moment or two , I knew this was one of those times that would stick with me forever. Tonight I learned more about myself than most ever do, I knew I was a fighter, I knew when death comes calling I would fight and not give in so easy. I found that love can mend , scars are like tattoo's you always remember the day you get them and remember why you got them.
Missy lived in a small one bedroom apartment , with her mother and two brothers , one older , one younger . I'm not sure what really happen but somehow the front window got smashed. Missy slept on the couch , it was a cold winter , she got sick. When I was a boy my Grandfather taught me how to cut and solder glass, stained glass work. So I showed up one morning with a soldering iron , copper foil , solder , and love for Missy. While she slept I foiled the outside edges of the glass window's broken pieces , It took hours to copper foil and arrange all the pieces correctly, love, its the sort of thing that it can do, like an angel's hand working through mine, a boy who's torment made him feel so bent could still do such things for love. I had soldered the whole window back together, i left without a word. That family never said a word to me about it , nor did missy. till this day I don't understand why, I didn't need a thank you , I just thought is was strange they never said anything about it. I only had few dealings with Missy after that but one night my friend River wanted to tell me something about the situation with her new roommate. Missy saw me walk into another room with River, she left within a few seconds of me entering the room, made-out with my friend, I guess to spite me, at this point I knew , it was never love, just a moment shared by two people. Like a peddle falling from a rose , such things can never be mended. How could I ever look at her the same again. The first time you stare at the sun you realize it can blind you, so you don't look back. Sometimes a moment shared is a lesson learned, leaving you scarred and you'll remember all those little details , like shards of glass in your skin.
Life , like a journey , it has two defining points , a beginning and an end , and also like a journey its not the destination that matters its everything in between that make it a journey, life , you are what you know. I'm a young man, 28 . Trying to escape the grasp of the Dragon once more, but he fills me with the warmth of love , its not as for filling as the touch of a woman , but its always guaranteed to fill you with love , while the love that comes from a woman can be used to twist and manipulate you if your ignorant, young or in love with the wrong woman. The question , wait, rather there is no question, there is only her, the answer, but there is no manner of thinking that can summon up this answer, this answer must be found, even fought for at times , but like the leaves on a tree it can change on you. I never once intentional deceived a woman's love for me, I always considered deception weak, it doesn't even reside in my blood, I have the a brutal contempt for men, I love bleeding a weak man to make him stronger , take the chip off a young man's shoulder and iron will grow over the wound. I loved to lock horns. Since I've been a boy I've been a ball of fire , fury, rage. The blood that flows through my veins is sometimes poison, but at times proud and even proud of the scars I bear. I feel they were like patches a boy-scout gets , they were scars I had to earn.
Another piece of my story starts when I was 23 , I moved to an apartment complex on 40th St. & CamelBack . Just down the block from where I worked , PF Chang's in downtown Scottsdale , I was a Sous Chef . I lived in those types of apartments where you shared a large hallway with your neighbors. One day coming home the hallway smelled like the rankest dank I have ever smelled , it was like having a minty pine tree up your nose just walking down the hallway almost seem to get you high. One night I'm out on my paddy-o talking on the phone smoking a bowl , my neighbor sticks her head around the partition and just says " hey man, want to smoke " . I walked over to her apartment and there stood a short korean woman with a half sleeve , she was wearing a black corset , a canary yellow spanish dress with black lace around the bottom, blue contacts and long jet black hair. I could tell this girl had a demons wit and half a twist of poison in her blood. We became good friends , we hung out with other friends that lived in the complex including my best friend Gary , an ex-state trooper, I know, an unlikely friend , but the man grew weed. It was fun times , we would go out bar hoping down Indian school rd. where there were 30 dive bars and everyone of them had a jukebox and pool or other bar type games. It was candy and dandy till one night Abby and I decided to venture out on our own. We went to Kats with a K . There was a long stare from across the room , we suddenly became the only two people in the bar, as we traded the pool stick we were sharing in-between shots , we would touch ever so slightly each trade , on the hand , dust across the hip , fingers across the belly, an accidental bump . We took a yellow cab home, like a moth to the flame we were. This was a new kind of passion I'd not known , it was gripping. This connection was electric , she pulled me in , the kiss was magnetic, we went for hours. This is the way it started , one night leading into the next till it became love, and a fucked up love. Abby had money , she never went to work , she would carry thousands in cash on her. She would take me out for 300$ dinners. She bought me clothes . She even paid my rent after I got fired. Drive-in movies, the best pot, she smoked Nat Sherman's mint. I asked where she got her money , she told me she saved it for school but never went. Me and Gary joked it was from internet porn or something. One night Abby told me she loved me , right before telling me her story of how she became an escort , she would refer to herself as a modern day Geisha . I'm not the type to flip out, I just listened . Abby was adopted and had a bad upbringing by white parents who resented an asian child , she made it seem like this was her only choice to survive in the world , but I just couldn't do it , I walked out. I ended up at a friends house that night, I came home to a hole in my door, she had kicked a hole in the door, the next time she saw me she hit me in the face with a broom stick giving me a black eye. I had to move. This was the most fucked up relationship I've ever had. I was single after that, even now I'm scarred from that , any relationship I had after that I never let them get too close because I thought if I had to go through something like that again it would kill me, I was already using heroin to numb this.
For years I kept to myself investing myself in extreme downhill mountain biking , I became friends with Burns . He was my downhill partner , we ventured all over the southwest ridding the most narly trails, seeing the most beautiful mountains trails, nice small mountain towns. Smoking good weed at the summit was my favorite thing to do right before gearing up for the ride down, I loved to shred. He had moved to flagstaff last year , I was up there almost every week-end ridding , smoking , hanging out with new friends, I had discovered a new kind of people, Hippies. I wanted a hippie girlfriend what better kind of person to mend all that has happened than those who believe in love. Kind and loving , peaceful and true. But I had to take a detour from my life , my mother twisted her knee very bad and was unable to walk for months , and my sister did the same fucking thing the same week. With no family in town I thought it was best if I just moved home to become a care-taker . I could save a lot of money too, I want to move to the NorthWest , Oregon or Washington from Phoenix to find my hippie girlfriend and maybe just try to forget all the destructive relationships I've had. I thought this was a win win situation , my family gets help , I save money and would also fix up the house .Its too damn hot in Phoenix I've been here 13 years, I fucking hate the sunshine and there isn't any trees here . So every year we take a family trip to Comic-con San Diego ,after that I'm taking 6 weeks off work to drive cross country and visit the rest of my family in New York , I've already signed up on ride-share.com to find someone to split gas money with. After I come back I will have 15k saved and I'll continue to work till I pay off a little debt , get the tattoos I want , buy some new clothes and save a little more trip money. I'm planing on living with roommates to reduce the cost of living and hopefully become friends with, I look for roommate posts that say 420 friendly. I figured 15k will last awhile if i'm careful and work a part-time shit job. I've got till October I just hope I make it , I'm still fighting my heroin addiction, but I've been in treatment now for 2 months so it seems hopeful, but you never really know. I offer these last words , Live your life, do what you want, don't be afraid to feel or fight for what you believe in. love each other , and always hold your head up where ever you go. Viva Mia Zapata and listen to Tom Waits - Edward_H