Southern Roy went back out, he’s not picking up anyone's calls. I wanna drag his ass out of that crack house but I know I can’t. I don’t want to get sucked in.

Jon told me this guy that used to work at Xentel died of an overdose last Friday. Jon’s words echoed when he told me, “Yeah, he used to nod out on the phones just like you.”

Anderson called me asking for Stoop’s number, I said I didn’t know it. I lied. 289-1140. Anderson told me last time he saw Stoop it looked like his left arm was going to fall off. When he said that I felt a surge of jealousy, I wanted MY ARM to look like it’s going to fall off. There’s still a part of me that yearns for the sickness, the misery, the distortion. I’ve had to learn to shut the door; I can peer in and take a glimpse of the hell but if I stare too long, I’ll fall in. Today, I gotta slam the door shut and not buy into the fictitious glory. 

I hung out with Abigail and her friend. That was disappointing, I think she was fucking high. She said she was nauseous and mentioned that she wasn’t high like three times. She’s either high or pregnant, haha. Ok, not so funny—but still.

It’s the holidays and I’m breaking out, WTF!

When I took Southern Roy and Gus to IHOP we had a funny conversation. We pile in after the Ten meeting, order mad food, loud as fuck, laughing and bullshitting.

Southern Roy: “Look, when I’m not using I’m a fucking AFC (average frustrated chump) to the fullest! I go to work, I play pool, go to meetings and that’s it. I just miss the lifestyle of using. Last night I had bitches begging to suck my fucking cock.”
Bryan: “Yeah, cause you paid them.”
Southern Roy: “True.”
Bryan: “You have this image of what using is like and it’s bullshit. That lasts a few days, you’re already broke, there won’t be any more hot bitches. You’re gonna be smoking crack with some old dirty toothless hooker. No matter how many slabs you buy, it will always run out. You’ll be staring at a piece of a stem that’s been scrapped 10 times, char that’s been turned over 20 times, the crack ran out hours ago, but you’re just now accepting it, all alone and feeling like killing yourself. Dude it happens EVERY FUCKING TIME.
Gus: Yup, with the $1,400 dollars you spent you could have done a boot camp, but even that shit doesn't make you feel better. If you read “The Game,” everyone got depressed and suicidal, it’s gotta be done from the inside, bro.
Bryan: “Exactly, I just fucked some bitch from Aventura and I’ve never felt more depressed. It's thinking if you just had enough that you’d be ok, but it’s never enough. You gotta be satisfied with whatever you got.”
Southern Roy: “Yeah, I know bro. I need to start getting involved in church. I used to bring in a men’s meeting over there.”
Bryan: “Roy, right now, you don’t know if your gonna be smoking crack with a hooker in the next few hours. You gotta focus on now — a fucking men’s meeting at church!? You gotta stay clean for a few days first.”
Southern Roy: “Bahaha, I guess you're right.”

We talked for hours, had fun, fucking  around… and when we got in our cars to leave, we all told Roy, “Okay, don’t get high! Call us!” We hugged it out and he still got high last night. 

Talk about being powerless.

December 24th, 2008

Had to get out of the house, my room reeked of jerk fest.
I think I jerked off seven, eight…nine times today, yeah—it’s been one of those days.

Last night, I couldn’t sleep, I could only think. I kept imagining myself getting high. Going into my mom’s drawers, finding her Rolex and grabbing my dad’s safe and cracking it open at Stoop’s. I’d call him up and say, “Guess who’s back!?” We’d smash the safe in the with power tools, we’d chill, I’d give him some money. I’d get some slabs of crack, a few lighters, two stems, chore, some 30-gauge needles, heroin/Roxys and check into some shitty motel to go die in. Turn my cell off and leap into the pits of hell…Using with Stoop was always the best cause the nigga is mad resourceful. He knows about engines, could fix your kitchen sink, always has tools and shit in his truck, is always down to rob people, I got mad love for him, we’ve been through some shit… he’s doing so bad, it's crazy.

Why do I feel like getting high? 

Fuck… I should call someone or hit a meeting.

…I’m at church, it was the only thing I could think of. The service has already started, PEACE! gtg.

Church was cool… I don’t like religion but sometimes when I feel like getting high it’s the only safe place I can think of going. 

“I remember a man who was true to himself
If he put his mind to something it was done
He could help everyone just by doing what he loved
He could work with his hands so good
But what no one cares to know
That he works them to the bone

He comes home to himself and he sits in his chair
Gets lost inside pictures on the wall
He's had some loves in his life that he's lost but knows why
He's lived with mistakes for so long
He's the best man that I know
He stays happy all alone
He gives me hope.

— I Can Make A Mess Like Nobody's Business (LISTEN)