Nolo Contendere...I do not wish to contend

It's a 100 degree plus early Friday afternoon, listening to Dylan's "Blood on the Tracks" and having a light lunch of Saltines and black cherry soda and watching Juliet trash yet another catnip mouse and roll around on the oriental in the kitchen. The past ten days or so have mostly been spent laying on my bed watching the fan go round under the dim red light with towels shoved in any cracks between the blinds and window frames. A lot of sweat, a lot of regret, not much use for fear anymore...it serves no purpose...not much left to be afraid of anyway. There was a double murder earlier this week four doors down and when the ghettobird illuminated my bedroom in the middle of the night I simply rolled over and put a pillow over my face...Nolo Contendere...Nolo Contendere...

100 Days of Lost Divinity

Took a turn off the 202 at Priest on Friday evening March 27th while on the phone with Cam who I informed that I was off on yet another mission. Eight months clean, sober and as sane as I had been in years yet very much insane and with full forethought and malice made a beeline to where I knew I could score and use with impunity....and did just that. I had told myself that it would just be one night, one last dance with a mistress of 35 years....a mistress that took my virginity at the age of 12. More later after I get her out of my veins but just had to make a public admission to document the moment of clarity and surrender...one more time.