Express.co.uk - Home of the Daily and Sunday Express | UK News :: Anger as stars call for drugs law reform

Express.co.uk - Home of the Daily and Sunday Express | UK News :: Anger as stars call for drugs law reform

What to do with all this past.

History and past. It's scary. Nobody told me growing up to make sure and be sweet all the time. Maybe Mrs.Williams told me to cover my ass after being caught smoking behind the auditorium but that was about it. Nobody said that maybe one day I would be so feed up as an adult that I would consider running for President and then I might come under scrutiny and condemnation for things in my past. Oh well. here we go, so be it. I cant be any worse than the rest of them. At least I'm honest about it. I've been a liar, thief, cheat, adulterous, high, and have a nice little criminal record to back it up. Then again, who doesn't. At least I'm real and made it through those times in my life. Gotta let go and let God.

Life after crack, crack in my life.

Where are the friends? Ya know, the so called friends I had prior to 10 years of drug abuse? Everybody is gone. I spend weekend after weekend alone and wondering where there might be some folks playing cards and having some beer.Something simple, that's all I'm looking for. But, it is , again, another Friday night and nothing to do. Being clean becomes boring. What to do? Yeah, I got a wife and her friends are supposedly my friends too but in reality they are not. I come home from nearly a year away working and here I sit. I would rather just be high. I can go around the corner and give someone cash and walk away with a companion to spend the evening with. The companion might make me paranoid or whatever but it beats being alone. WTF? It's okay. I'm use to being alone. Meetings? They suck. Been there, done that.Life after drugs sucks, especially when nobody wants to hang out, even the very people that originally turned you on to the crap. Coffee? Really? How much friggin' coffee can one drink? Is it really that entertaining?

So you think you are donating your old car to charity, yeah, right!!!!

Many years ago when my life was not so pleasant I lived in an apartment with 2 children and 3 other adults. My car was the only running car but one day I lost my vehicle. Getting to and from anywhere was a pain and we lived in East Jahblip nowhere Pennsylvania. It was hard to get to and from work when there was work. Things were bad. So, one day I get on the phone and start calling all these places that help, these charitable organizations and such. I called Untied Way and they told me to call the Catholic Social Services and they told me to call St. Vincents De Paul and then they told me to call Salvation Army and then they told me to call American Red Cross and on and on and on. So, after about 6 hours on the phone going from one recommended charity to another I ended up back on the phone with the first person I called that morning. The lady at United Way. She just couldn't believe that I had been on the phone all day and returned full circle back to her still in need with no assistance from all these charities. No body could help! She couldn't believe it! So I asked her about these automobile donations that they have advertisement for in the newspapers. I told her that maybe if they have a vehicle there i could use , even if it was only temporary that it would really help us out. She told me that the vehicles go to auction to pay the salaries of the people that run the charity. You know, the same charity that couldn't help 4 adults and 2 kids. So, what i am proposing is that if you really want to help someone donate your used vehicle to someone that actually needs a vehicle. That would help the needy far more than you donating it to the salaries of charities that cannot help people. Donate your old vehicle to me! I know at least 10 people right now that could use a working vehicle to get to and from work and medical appointments. It doesn't have to be a pretty and new, just working. Call me up! I'll even come get the car and give it directly to those who need one. You don't have to pay me a dime. I do this shit for free. My payment comes in good karma.

Money for Mr. Brooks

I have a friend that is in great need. His name is Marshall Brooks. He lives in a prison in Huntingdon Pennsylvania. He lost his father at an early age and ended up raising himself and fell into the hands of a biker gang member that taught him how to rob banks. Brooks is a very nice person contrary to how this story may sound. He has robbed many banks and in the end, coming from an impoverished area he turned around and gave all that money he stole from those banks to poor people. I'm not saying you should rob banks ( then again, they rob us everyday). But this particular type of crime has beauty to it. He steals from the rich and gives to the poor and needy, every last dime minus the occasional new pair of pants and some smokes. Brooks is a great man. He has been serving time for quite a while now. I usually try and hook him up with some financial assistance for clothing, food, toiletries and such. I am extremely low on cash and any donations would be welcomed. My current goal for him is $300. That should by him some underwear, thermals, shoes, toiletries, phone time and cold medicine for the year. Thank you for your donations. God Bless!

Life in a hotel room

Most people do not choose to live their lives in hotel rooms, it just happens. Tunnel Rd. in Asheville NC is a prime example. I ended up unable to walk and living in a hotel room until I could no longer afford the $65 a day to stay there. I gave the owner my guitar to allow me to sit there for a few hours until a friend of mine found us another location. We moved into a place at $35 a night that was next door. We stayed there for about a month but not having a car and not having proper employment leads you to daily labor where you flag traffic all day or dig ditches and you still don't make that $35 you need. Therefore you end up in a life of crime and doing all nature of things just to keep your shitty little room on Tunnel Rd. at one of the nasty dive hotels. We were not the only people living like this. There were probably 100 people in the same rut. The luckiest of us had a full time job at Waffle House and made sure that the rest of us were able to at least have a bite to eat everyday. She waited tables all day while her boyfriend hustled his ass off all day and both of them cleaned rooms in exchange of partial rent for the hotel room they lived in. This hotel room cost them the same amount of money that one of the nice rooms cost but the owner insisted on placing them in the cruddiest rooms on the back side of the building where all of his housekeepers and homeless folks made homes. Every morning you wake up to the fact that your things will be waiting for you by the dumpster out back when you get off work. Then if you were lucky enough to get that $35-$70 at daily labor then hopefully the hotel owner will give you a room for the night so you can lay your head down and do it all over again the next day. I guess I'll have $5 left after paying my daily rent so let's buy a couple of 40 ouncers and call it a day. Maybe some drug addicts will come visit you and turn you on in exchange for using your hotel room. That was as good as it got. People don't plan on this situation becoming a part of their life but it happens. If you live in Asheville just take note next time you see people walking up and down Tunnel Rd. They are not tourists. They are homeless.

high school drug dealers/ and the queens of the crack heads

I guess I'm going to skip around a bit in the things I share with you regarding street life and drugs. We had a row in Philly and our street was actually one of the nicer one but like in all communities we had a few boys on the block that sold drugs. I had been clean a couple of months and then had the itch one evening after work. I sought out one of these kids. His name was Dupreem. He hooked me real good and we developed quite a relationship. Well, Dupreem ran with a couple other boys ,Coop and Bee. Well, one morning we wanted some crack so we called Coop and he said he was in the middle of class but as soon as lunch break and he'd come bring us our stuff. WHAT????? Class? Lunch break? You are in school? The very young man that sells me crack by the 8-ball every week is a high school student???? Wow. I remember one cold-ass Philadelphia winter night those poor boys came to our house just looking to come in out of the cold. Even though we paid them mega money for the drugs we were addicted to they had no money, all that money went to a man named Man. They might have been out working all day selling dope to addicts but at the end of their day, if it actually ever did have an end, these boys didn't really make any money. They came to our house to shower, wash their clothes, eat, rest. We felt bad for them. I took poor Coop home to his place in West Philly one morning. Now I know why he always smelled bad. There was no electricity, no running water, no heat. His Mom was dead and he lived with a relative that was probably on drugs, I don't remember. What tiny money he made he used to buy his little sister food. I've been clean for about 4 years now and Lisa got murdered. I feel bad for Coop , I wonder whatever happened to him. It doesn't much matter, now does it? Me and my wife owned our own painting business and made mega money. It's a shame we didn't invest that money, instead we smoked every last cent. Of course we had all the finer things and we lived like Queens. The Queens of the crackheads.