Slippin Slide Productions's blog: "we do recover"

6 days from 6 months (at the present time I am in my seventh month) Addict name Carlton, back as usual. I limited my writings, because a lot of things I don’t need any publicity possibility making certain creases with a hole famous. But I do spend a certain portion of my day analyzing stuff. I don’t complain about their antics, but I do discuss things instead of holding it in. Even a volcano can erupt eventually from being to idle. I figured if I write annually then I can’t say I am going to be forgotten about. Personally, I have a lot of other projects that I have been indulging in, because it occupies my time and limit my time to be optional for ignorance. I reckon I know confusion, worthless matters, and those possessing both those enjoying those qualities can be gotten like candy in any store or house anywhere; I don’t have to settle for any or a certain brands. If you feel I might be mimicking your life on life exercises, just enjoy my adventure, excuse me life and you might discover the keys that resemble solutions and not continuations. You ever done things that made you say, I was supposed to have done this the first time. Yeah, like doing something important or attend a relative’s funeral. Not just some aunt or uncle, no offense, but your sister. Now for me this is some big boy stuff to admit this and I guess it might not be a comfortable situation to discuss or read to some, but it is not for anyone else healing process. This is strictly for my benefit to make an amends. Yeah, I didn’t go to my sister’s funeral and I don’t have a “because story” or a “what had happen script,” it happened and I was the cause of the result. Do I feel good, hell no, I am still grieving and not from the death of the person now, it is basically the death of my family’s respect I temporarily killed or should I say wounded. I am the cause of the isolation from my family or certain members. I don’t feel like answering questions that I have been tried and sentenced for already. So today on even more short notice then I had with my sister a friend of 19 years past and I agreed to go to the funeral. I felt like I was mourning the death of sister for the first time. See my sister been gone 1 year now and I feel just like my man’s sister, if I could only talk to her one more time I probably will or wouldn’t be satisfied, because what about the next day. I be wishing to awake up out of the dream myself, but you don’t wakeup out of reality, you wake up and realize death is final and life is on going until then. It is not like telling your parents you don’t want to go bed yet, because you haven’t finished playing with your toys. At least you have an option, if the Higher Power sees fit to wake you again or even live long enough each day to be able to lie down to go to sleep. Anyway, it wasn’t like some gala event, but I do assume that a lot of people was caught off guard and put on notice. I guess anyone would be around his age or beyond, but mostly a friend or associate can’t ignore it could have been them being celebrated with tears and hollering. That was a shot in the ass from the doctor of reality. Reality has no signals it is the signal and it is unavoidable no matter what, who, or how you accept it. Reality don’t come with instructions or the instructor to guide you thru life, of course God is the benefactor of course, but when reality shows up, all anyone has to do is live thru it or with it, which leaves not many options. I have never been to a funeral that singled people out the way they did here. I along with a host of this man’s friends, from his experience with trucking, football alliances, and his job, a nightclub called the Frankford Room. In this nightclub, we are like family; we did so many things together other then just work. And to this very day around the holidays when we gather we all this time will be without “Pit bull”. The part that surprised me we was honored for being real close to this man and each of us had a unique story and at the same time we each couldn’t deny he was a friend that will be missed. And it was a joy to not just be honored once, but twice. Each time we were suggested to stand to be recognized. The second time we were suggested not is strangers, but continues or develops a relationship with the family of Pit bull. I have never witnessed any of this kind of honoring. This showed that although these people might not know us all, but it was oblivious Pit bull spoke highly of us. And I am not talking about any 5 or 10 people. It must have been 25 or 30 of us that was mentioned as a whole to be acknowledged. I felt proud to be this man’s friend. It is touching to know you don’t have to talk to a person or seeing them all the time to be considered their friend. I did have a moment that makes me blush like a school child, but I been put on noticed, I am still desirable and marketable. No more how much I believed in my mind I was damage and wasn’t worthy of another woman’s attention. But in the church at a funeral is not like being in a public place other then church. Now thru it all I wasn’t trying to act out, but why is it funeral, clubs, or Sunday morning church is when you see some of the finest women, God give your eyes the gift to be rewarded a visual present. And like myself I find it hard to choice and pick a delicate piece at one of them events, because without the application (no.), interview (next meeting opportunity possibility date), you really can’t judge no book by just any old sleeve. But I would be lying if I didn’t have some questions, but was just too afraid to investigate farther for the answers. My fear is my hungry eyes might have been feasting on the wrong dish. I won’t lie my feelings are delicate and I am mindful of just how tender they are, because I can be my own worst enemy. I might know what I like and want, but I am a stranger to figuring out if it is what I need. That is like speaking Chinese although I do speak Korean. The closest I come to speaking Chinese other then the word china is reading something off the takeout menu. But when I look at the filthy habits having to eat what I kill I don’t have to wonder why my sagas of relationshits often star, produced and have been directed by me, but always seems to be shown on low budget screening or get bad reviews by unknown critics. I have to eat the bullshit now along with my loses. Keep it simple if you’re stupid, I am not a cooperative counterpart I figure. My point is who in his or her right mind want to hit on someone at a funeral? I could be wrong, but I am good at problem solving and 1+1 always = sex, I mean two. But it does feel good when a woman makes advances and I have the will power to say yea or nay to the opportunity. All in all the higher power knew my heart and what I haven’t done yet, so the disease was putting its offer on the table, but my Higher Power had other things in mind. See I was with the brother of a girlfriend at the time, so disrespecting him and the unseen wasn’t an option. I felt like my hands were tied. But if it is meant when the time is right I will be better prepared I gather. Today is one of them days that command and demand I focus and know what is at stake. I am a lot less tolerant to stupidity so I remain quiet as books in the library, because I am scared and I hate my acting out process now, because I haven’t done it in a down south minute (real long or slow). So would all “the to be continued anger” I didn’t reply to the sender be dumped on the wrong person? Possibility, I must recognize this daily. So I keep my mouth shut and pet my ego, like it is some type of cat or dog, because it doesn’t need to be fed people like the plant from little shop of horrors. For instants I have some very tender feelings people I associate with and guess what my feelings aren’t suffering from being ice cold. They are being tortured, because of me being on my goody mob tip. I must admit it makes me feel like a punk. Some of these character assassinators try their best to terminate my kindness with their ignorance, because they think I am weak now, since I don’t manipulate to get straight or enhanced. Not knowing the thoughts I have in my mind has been like an attack on their ego. And from the things they say and do to me or around me won’t get addressed with my own self. I should say it isn’t a magic trick they are still standing, unless God changed his role overnight. It isn’t in the genes or the shoes so who and what army constantly is telling me to be on guard and don’t let your heart get infected? The Highest of all powers and his angels, like I mentioned. I let him play me like a yo yo, because I know as long as I remain on that string, when he toss me out to do tricks, I don’t have to worry about being safely returned. I have faith about his control. Faith is my shield today and I won’t trade it in for nothing. I am going to continue to eat what I kill and if people happen to be that quick snack, then as I grow stronger they won’t have to worry about, if I will spit their emotions out to spare the feelings my onslaught, because I can be brutal, but I don’t plan to have them on my menu to be served. This is one of the main reasons why I remain quiet, don’t reply unless I need to and then I do it slowly, which indicates I am thinking of the best words for my use. I couldn’t display this type of grooming before now. So I do see some growth and I appreciate what the creator has gifted me with. When shit is not going my way I don’t feed into situations to farther escalate problems, instead I lay back play video games or throw myself into my work at the shop or into my new venture, my independent music label. The bull I face and hear don’t require any feedback. If anyone thinks they are going to get it from me they will be surprise when they hear that mouse pissing on cotton. Recently, I felt kind of stupid for being so open and letting my feelings show up around some unsuspecting assholes, who crave having their will catered to and having it chauffeured around like they the last emperor or someone important. Anyway, I have done and do some things that might not be viewed as likeable, but guess what it is nothing like the days of old. Is it a crime to care for children or should say I care more for children that aren’t mine, because mine have not yet come around or can be explained to the situations of my demographical changes due to drugs. All my fault of course. See I have what you call a spousal support for a child, but I am not married so don’t confuse yourself wondering. I am what you would call being claimed and I haven’t denied it otherwise, because I guess it feels good to be recognized for my lengthy time of service or availability. Anyway, I know for a fact some children have children and are childish thinking from the start. Some children have children and haven’t figured out how to stop acting or reacting likes children. It is a simple and confused state that I don’t like living in. But why is it I notices or I sense I am not suppose to be present around or show affection to a child. My theory is any man that displays more attention and out shines the parent’s lack of attention and parenting it might expose the fact that “They are not ON THEIR JOB”. Believe you me I don’t want to replace no one or their responsibilities. I am just teaching more about me and how to become a valuable responding individual to become a productive affiliate to my structured circle. But when I feel you are limiting me and want to overshadow my skills because of your fear and ignorance, I find it hard to not feel disgruntle. With power instill from the Higher Power I was able to avoid confrontation, which would have been like me throwing rocks in pond, which he claim is a river. And the ripples would be tiny splashes, because I have a more intelligent ways of making people realize, I have always been smart I just haven’t applied it to their acknowledgement. I guess if I really don’t associate with you how would you know if I have the ability to be more then you wonder about. Then the more I play with the situation in my foresight, I wonder if my lack of communication or stooping down to his one sided self could make him react or challenge me to a certain degree? Wouldn’t you feel slighted if someone takes their child out of your hands when you caring for them and then play with them for five seconds and then put them in the arms of someone else? The worst part of it, and then they leave and go on about their merry way smoking, lollygagging about nothing, or just occupying space in another room. When I see such immaturity I don’t even entertain challenging the situation, because plan and simple Carlton, that is not your child. If it were you would still be with shorty. Hell we wouldn’t even is baring a seed this early in her life. Me being a grown up won’t scale the legal lines of statutory rape. You get what I don’t digest and most times your attitude determines what I might not even want to share with you period. Plan and simple, I don’t like childish grown ups, who feel they on the same level as fresh out of school young adult, and I especially hate when they feel the need to put there hands on them. God have been forbidding certain men to put their hands on my relatives and having me learn about it. I think the repulse shit is whenever these happenings are in the mist of my company and never once has it been addressed gives my feelings fuel to explode. And I must admit I defuse my detonator daily, because since I have eliminated my equation of the situation it is in fact none of my business. I don’t even push the envelope about the issues that wrecks my peace whenever this child is present. The child is not the problem, it is the grown ups who if I was blind I would still believe something is out of order. I can sense it disgusts them, but I won’t play on their feelings, but I do feel me ignoring them for having an avenue to vent their feelings is destroying them inside. But that is not my problem; they need to honestly address the grading system with the corporate that is guilty. My thinking makes me want to believe it was something said to that affect to someone intentional lack of parenting, because being a parent is when you are present to answer them 3 a.m feeding. Hell, any feeding for that matter. It doesn’t mean you goo-goo-gaa-gaa and roll out to your other home and take care of someone else seed. I been there done that. My past tells me; if you are present around another child in a relationship consider yourself guilty of neglecting your own seed. But I can’t just blame him and leave the evidences for another individual to discover, the enabler is just as guilty. One for not rectifying something is wrong. I use to address the matter to their mother in the past and my thinking tells me I was discussed telling the truth and if that is the reason I am being scrutinized like I am. I got something to say about this whole situation, if someone would just MAN THE FUCK and become Parent, they won’t ever have to worry about how I feel. And it is no secret they care or they wouldn’t go out their way to make sure I am absent around their seed. I am recovering and I am not trying to be Martin, Mandela, Gandhi, or Evers, so like Mellie Mel said, “Don’t push me, because I am too close to the Edge. I am trying not to lose my freedom, clean time and beginning phases of recovery. Quick update, I apologize to my loyal followers, but this was a month late update. Today I am still surrendering and have applied yet another month on to the process. I have also stepped up my game and name I am part owner of a growing independent record label, called Black Cloke Entertainment. I have yet to establish my name of my group of artist, but I am leaning towards “Hoods to Boardrooms Records”. I wish anyone with desires to be successful to never stop moving towards waking up from just dreaming to just accomplish what you might hear or believe is impossible. Nothing is impossible if it is important to you. Most of the situations I have written about have been addressed or just totally move on and not upon. Since people see my process is not incorporate hood with Hollywood they know no which to infect my spirits, so they just watch and just like my reads they look for something to enjoy. In their case they would prefer fresh road kill, but we all know I am not going to be the prey or hunter in that situation, so move on.

5 months of my surrender Addict name Carlton in the mist of my transformation. It is not so much of a lonely process as I thought or should I say it looked like in the beginning, moving to the top. At first when I really looked at things in the beginning I thought my surrendering birthed a lot of jealousy from people, who was undetermined about their own process. Even though I felt that I still thought it was my obligation to help the still suffering addict. Come to find out the rule says worry about yourself and truth is best told when you taste the pudding it will tell how sweet the stuff is. At this point and time I don’t find anything sweet when you’re in situations where you wholeheartedly have relations that seem to can’t form suitable relationships. It is no guarantee the time you spend with people no matter how much time it is it will be able to stand the tests of time. See people grow not always outward, but inward. Now I must examine if I haven’t witnessed someone growing or recovering are he or she worth waiting for? I don’t want to rely on my justification to manifest they will catch up or on to determine stay or vacant. My thinking tells me, you can’t wait or delay your process in attempts to hope someone gets tired of performing their will and think I am not obligated to live my own program. Basically, what I am trying to say which is the same way I feel or was told to feel, I am still and always been responsible for me and powerless over others. Today I am living by that example. I don’t feel comfortable with anyone telling me who I am suppose to have in my network or who I should network with. If you busy trying to run my process, what or who is help you drive yours? I find it impossible to live a strong recovery process if you trying to live your recovery thru someone else. Back up and read that last sentence again. This is real a serious omission, who is responsible for their recovery, them or me? Am I supposed to be responsible for some one’s happiness or recovery? I am not even responsible for someone else’s breathing. If they don’t try to breathe on their own then don’t press any charges on me. I have some situations that I am not happy with in areas of my recovery and basically I am part of the blame. Mainly for choosing people for guidance too earl

Just around the corner 120 days Addict name Carlton, help! I am facing a critical time in my life, because I have been faced with some situations that are not stressful or amusing, the disease is disguising itself as thoughts of my actions I been making. I do not want to believe my theory is normal. I think it is more severe then I can manifest. My thought pattern sometimes sets up a prototype of mis-advice blue prints. At the same time, I recognize it is the notorious disease weaving me in this web. I cannot ignore it, because it is not taking a backseat to anything I try. Instead, I have offered not the backseat, but the bus stop bench to my meetings, suggestions from those who care about my recovery, and I might well say the high power’s guidance. The guidance happens to be my step-work I started and stopped building links to farther my recovery. Here I am so wrapped up in my snowstorm until I am constantly trying to ignore the disease is trying to arrest, sentence and execute my ass by my own omission. Sometimes you meet people and judge them only to find out your judgment is nothing but jealousy. In my case, I saw an individual that was not half as bad as he seemed. He is young, living life, and having fun doing so. In my case I was not considered young, I living a double life of standards, mine and someone else’s, and I had to be advised what was fun. I was people pleasing and never even understood who I was supposed to really be pleasing. Funny part about it, it was and still is never enough pleasing to go around. Ask me if the disease didn’t claim a victory over me using my insanity and I won’t lie, because I am still infected with my ill-thinking. Some one and I were trying to figure what it is that is making me feel something that does not seem normal. Not everything is going to be right, so why my insanity told me it is ok for now. I feel I just brought a ticket to my own pity party! I even allowed myself to have live entertainment. When the band heard the irritation in my voice that was music to their ears. I try my best to find a set of ears that do not let their tongue rule the conversation. I cannot resist spitting up my emotions to relieve my irregular sentiments. Now thru this all I cannot figure out if me not going to meetings due to the trust of my peers. I do not believe I am hiding a reservation from myself I do not want to use nothing. I do not want to believe I am avoiding the opposite sex at the meetings. I do not want to use someone to justify what I am feeling that I really have not addressed. I am not looking for victims or volunteers I constantly educate myself daily, because I am aware of whom I want to say was, because I keep feeling still is. I am not trying to hash no old stupidity, but I do not know what I am really feeling. I do not feel stupid, filled with fear, or lazy. I want to blame money having something to do with it, but is it the corporate? I do not want to say it has something to do with me facing and trying to accept life on life terms one weekend. I did succeed with not acting out, but I am battling with feeling stupid for moving along. I am successful with ignoring and forging I accepted the bullshit. This whole situation, feel like a germ maturing into virus. Honestly, I feel it is eating my ass up. I really do not want to embarrass myself by stating I do not know what I felt or smelt one night, but something definitely is not sitting right in my soul. I had to share my thoughts with a total stranger, because my insanity is attacking my spirit. I felt slightly better knowing now it is out of my system, but I am far from a cure. Now a stranger, my God, and I are aware. I do not want to be right, but I do not want to keep trying to prove myself wrong. I am not trying to be an addict trapped in world of mystery, because eventually my recovery could become history. I do not want to reschedule misery and not only let people down, but most of all myself. Yes, I do base part of my recovery on what people feel, because I enjoy the lime light even if it don’t seem sweet all the time. I do not want to always dwell in the cellar of suffering. I want people to keep respecting my ability and use me as a conversation piece when they talk about how people can just wake up after they was like a remote controlled car on the wild side. I am fighting against myself and I do not know what I am supposed to be fighting. I wonder am I going to continue recovering in the rooms or am I going to try it on my own again? I have to live in the rooms, because I came this far. I am not looking for pats on the back any more or people praising me with their eyes, although I grew accustomed to that. I have to ignore I do not admire many things that circled the moat around the meeting grounds, because they not responsible for my recovery. I am trying not to use that as an explanation. I do not have any excuses, but I do not have any answers either. Most times, I think no one will understand what I feel or why I am using this scheme with out the use of a drugs or alcohol. To me it is my insanity penciling me in to play in this dirty game. I hate to admit it, but I am showing up and looking like the same team player that had a high batting average being pitched beer, crack, and weed swinging. Every now and then dope was the closer, but I would scratch myself from the line long before the umpire called strike three out your hooked. I cannot allow relapse to be a part of my story again. This time I am noticed I un-paused the button on my relapse story. Although, I do not plan to not use, but this is almost the same movie that I co-star years ago. I need to challenge myself and do a 90 and 90 again. I must find some cuffs to arrest the insanity that has receive several 24-hour passes. I do not know what happened but I done picked up a dissertation habit. I cannot keep playing with my recovery. From prior experience will not start sooth my pains I blanket myself with. I do not want to stay wrapped up in denial (do not even know I am lying). If I am lying, I want to truly find out what it is I am lying about or afraid to admit. Could it be my relationships with me, myself, and who, I? It is certainly not my higher power, because I finally allowed him in and I am constantly trying to gain the wisdom to learn differences I am expected to make. I will not even peek at my current relations; because that is certainly something, I will not figure out. I am trying to avoid showing up to perform circus acts to please the crowd I am not comfortable with. I am certainly not caught up in the rapture, especially since half the time my mind require more of my own attention. I realize I have some of those familiar formalities back into my daily routine, if I am going to become strong again. So far, I am stronger in the wrong vicinity and that happens to stall my footsteps to keep strengthening my recovery. Why this morning reality reared its possibilities and jump-started my curiosity to find a solution to my self-inflicted situation. This seems to be a reoccurring event that I feel entangled by every thirty days and now it is worst. I did not have a drug dream. I dreamt I leaped off the wagon. That was a clear indication I am in danger. I felt when I woke up my recovery had vanished. I looked around for my old self, but I could not feel my own presences. I think I slept with jeopardy and could not deny I back myself up into this corner. Now I have to pray, attend even more meetings and never feel I am above picking up anything that would give my addiction its get out of jail card. I am not going to tell myself I do not have the desires, because I do. I have to look out thru my peephole to see what the disease is wearing just for today, so I can be aware of his disguise. Of course, I remember my last day. I am trying not to include another day, because I my navigation system always been broke. I will not know when to stop so I can walk back into the rooms. I am scared and I feel, because I do not understand my choices just for today that no one is going to understand how to help me stop accepting them. God please instill my black behind back in them rooms no matter what it takes.

Closing in on 4 months Addict name Carlton. I am today’s entertainment and you have the pleasure of viewing someone who been somewhere to discover he actually wasn't anywhere, but was steady focusing on going nowhere, till all of a sudden something amazing happen. The running I was doing later slowed to a 12-step process. One where learning to change direction passing some of the same people I was moving with in the beginning didn’t affect his process as much as he put emphasis on, when he passed them going in the other direction. Here is a man, who thought he was the human-net, just like the Internet, he thought he was the answer, move over Iverson. No more talking and not trying to listen or heard and never hear anything. Today’s lesson and it is not just for today to take for grant, but to take advantage of, take that chore boy out your ears and put it in your mouth. For those of you who need me to write for you to manifest or write slower it simply mean, the reason for having two ears and one mouth, is listen twice as much as you talk. The same for the two eyes, whether they crossed or cock-eyed, see what you need with one and see away with the rest with the other. I experienced my first real experience at a convention and it wasn’t just the convention itself. I am glad I didn’t pay for the damage my feelings were stabbed by. I need to back up and identify how it all started. I really was out of order and I must make a verbal amends with the Free State Region for committing a fraud and I would do so for many of us still new comers, with less then 6 months, who didn't have the funds to have fun and learn some valuable shit. We recovering and trying to recover some of that free information and we did what we had to do. Hell we still addicts and now our drug is the information we want and won’t be denied getting. I was 51 days over the limit of 60 day requirement. This was one of many of times I failed to shared my honestly which I want and try to practice on a minute by minute bases, but for this particular moment I needed that gravy on my mash potatoes, because I was starving along with my pockets, so I went to addict means to get accepted in. I am not proud of what I did, but it had to be done. I know a lot of us was feeling the same way, but it is not about them, this is just for me. I did what felt I needed to do now I am confessing and trying to bring some balance order back to my life. God played along with me just to find out how serious I was about my recovery. I believe he wanted to see if I was paying attention to the message or the messenger. I think I passed but not before I realize I was under siege. I really didn’t know how I was supposed to feel and I went with the flow. Sometimes I was very unhappy; I guess I was experiencing one of my moral or character defects digging into my emotions. I wanted to hang some garlic around my neck to ward off some of these ill feelings and moods gunning for my matrix reacting spirit. I felt if I wasn’t Neil or the chosen one I would have been willing to chose to further kill myself. Instead I stuck and stayed looking at the gold and platinum looking members that approached me glad I was still hanging on to God’s will and I have to admit I was sterling, with a slight tarnish from earlier events. To me my recovery is a job not a bill, I don’t owe anyone anything, instead I must live up to the creator's expectations and grow to show how grateful I am trying to grow to be and build on daily. Now this is when shit hitting the fan will do only one of two things, blow on you or over your head. You determine the effect by your actions. I am just sharing my story, but I know if someone caught the ripple effect I hope you brush that shit off, because it is not as bad as it seem. I went thru what someone told me was just a mis-understanding. I failed to miss something I should stand under and look up at it like it is a higher up like God? Maybe they were right it is far above or over my head and it definitely isn’t something I want to use as a tool for my recovery. Or could it be? Now if you look at it the way I let the disease try to convince me to act out and jump to conclusion and know it had shit to do with your recovery. Instead I let the disease poison my mind, but being in the mental shape I was in I didn’t allow it to convince me who was right, because I didn’t want to be wrong. In hindsight I knew I was wrong, because if my eyes were playing a trick on me, then I was the one that treated them to the idea it was good for the goose so shared it with Carlton. I taught people how to treat me. I exercised a lot of cheating, lying, cunning, hideous, and baffling shit for people to accept and fight with the idea of trusting me. Ask me if I cared, I didn’t, but when shit happens and you can’t figure out whether you want head or tails to be the choice of your acceptance then what? If you anything like me don’t ever forget what was instilled in your ass. You know a few tools in the shed are not as sharp as others, but use them anyway. See my process of pray, go a meeting and don’t pick up was crucial in making the right decision. It seems like if I venture back where the meeting was and it was located steps from the situation and it had nothing to do with 12-steps either. I feared, I might make a pit stop and never make it to the convention, where the meetings were. I knew I would have been locked up in recovery praying for someone to bail me out. Talk about having a nickname called patience, because I remember people in the meetings said, more would be revealed. I am one of those folks that don’t look for what the mouth will say, especially since I read eve got tricked by the serpent, which talked and they should have killed it. And that bitch turned around and treated Adam to her forbidden fruit. So I look for what people can’t say their actions. I won’t go into how fast more shit got revealed, but it wasn’t even 48 hours of clarity tried to restore my insanity. But thru it all the recovery training and willingness kicked in and my process which was rattled a little and disrupted my peace. I also must share I have a blemish on my record. I had a brief conversation that did go to accusing in a round about way, but after I was able to release that short burst of anger the situation blew thru like a pity shower. It wasn’t even on the same level of a storm, because inconsideration don’t have a support group member called Carlton. It has a lot of members I know, but guess what they live by their own merits and I can’t let them silly rabbits feel I am one of them tricks or the kids. And no I am not running to my honeycomb hide out that was the old me. I faced the situation like an adult and never let them see me sweat, which would had been interpreted as being mad, jealous or scared. Shit I accepted that shit better then I thought and only because I gave out a lot of acceptance tickets for people to feel my pain. Today nothing physically is different about me, but mentally I am not thinking like my shoe size, letting something tell me I should be hurt by what I was just so suppose to see. How far or wide is the path on my trustworthiness road? Stick around and more will be revealed. Or should I say less space will be seen the more you claim nothing happened. So if you going to try to convince people it is raining and sell them an umbrella, make sure it is rain and not piss, because people get tired of cleaning up the same shit. Switch it up sometime I can accept bullshit to although I might not like it. If you are not so literate stop fucking with peoples mind and nothing won’t seem so hard in your life. And I am just speaking about me. I am so happy I been going to the gym. Thru the process I know my recovery is going to get a workout. In the gym I attend it got all the right equipment it take to get the strength needed to be well conditioned, physically, mentally, and consciously for when you get backed into the corner and witnessing coming out clean is going to be a hell of a fight. I am definitely training daily so I will be prepared for it. I understand practice don’t always make prefect, because if you have to practice going thru the situation then what happens, if your behind haven’t trained well enough? I guess I don’t want to be one of them people picking up a one-day key or too ashamed to come back, so I don’t practice I play the game to the tee of recovery. I do my push-up in the books and remember when I am not in meetings, refresh my mind with the messenger’s support. This helps me to fight a disease that isn’t doing push ups outside waiting for me to slip up. It is pushing up on my ass 24-7 anywhere, even in my sleep. It is constantly trying to wear me down waiting for a slip up. It won’t go easy on me by beating down enough so I can be looking for a standing eight count or rise up by the count of ten. It is trying to take me out if allow my lack of sense I better be exercising inside out is a delicate part of my progress. I don’t doubt the disease is stronger then me, but with the information guess who won’t fall victim as long as I don’t volunteer to buy one of them tickets they aren’t even selling. When I was at the convention I heard the main speaker quote quite a few things down to the period of my belief and I shared with people about on quite a few occasions. I knew no other way but to look at my gains and losses as doing math, because I subtracted my existence from a normal life. My addiction and obsessions multiplied easily with my assistance and lack of battling. I divided my morals, self-respect, dignity, integrity and values to the lowest dominator. In the end, I knew I ADDED up to nothing. Oh but what a tangle web I weaved till it started choking the shit out me and forced me to surrender. In my mind you didn’t have to say Stop The Fight, because I wasn’t even swinging. I was getting swung around, hung out to dry, and on sight it was like look what the wind blew in, because I was weighing close to 120 pounds maybe less, with identification in my pocket. The identification made me look like I was committing a fraud, because I was far way looking nothing like the individual on that picture. My last picture I took with my new name, 2253790 looked more like me. My face was disappearing. My cheeks on my face was touching with a Flintstone bone protruding at bone sides, so you know my cheek was now a bone with skin over it. My ass cheeks didn’t have enough meat to hide my tailbone. If it wasn’t for bones, skin, and organs I wouldn’t have weighed shit. I was filling in keyhole with my finger. I might, as well I didn’t own a key to nowhere. Just for today I will not take that lesson for granted. I will continue to realize I came a long ways, but I still have farther to go, because this road never ends. As long as I am an addict everyday will have to be a better day as long as I don’t use. Since drugs is not going to always be my issue, I have to remain mindful I can’t use people, places, or things to substitute for a feelings my addiction starves for, due to my obsessed and compulsive traits. I heard some of the thing's I heard in the rooms seem foreign in this new way of life, but thru it all it is not the language that is foreign or I am made to believe. It is me not being use to it. Their are customs that don’t include using anything that in the beginning I didn’t like, but I used anyway. After doing so to be accepted I accepted the feelings it shared with me. Some people I never like I used. I was attracted by what they had and offered. I used them even when they had nothing to offer, because I knew there were no consequences or repercussions available. I grew accustom to forfeiting my vision on reality, talk about a culture shock being taught to open your eyes about what recovery can do that using couldn't. My applications forced me to lose now I was being trained I don't have to stay lost either. I recognized instantly the moment clarity was restored I had nothing that was valuable to me but my mind and it was in serious jeopardy if I was easily convinced by the disease recovery wasn’t the answer. Back in the days of my first time of getting a sponsor, I had to do it ass backwards of course. Instead I am looking at the ass instead of the door to get in the rooms to learn about recovery. To me her big butt and a smile was worth me being clean, until she forced me to clean up my act and try to recover on my own. When she dumped my feeling at the foot of bed and ordered me to journey down the road by myself with out a clue of what I was going to recover from. God stepped in immediately. I didn’t know he was their carrying across the sands and thru the bottom of the ocean, because I failed to recognize without him it would be no divine order I could single handedly restore, if I wasn’t willing to let God. I managed to obtain a thought to be impossible feat, but like my nature of being mentally and spiritually clumsy trial and error person, later on I tripped over my accomplishment of getting two years clean and thought I could conquer the world and use now. This process I made look as if I was locked up and when it was all over with I was going to get my commissary and celebrate like a rock star, I should had said a dumb one more like. I defeated my own purpose July 5th 1999 by taking my will and God for granted. My list of likes today is whole lot different then what I thought I liked. I can’t seem to find the old blue prints that describe how, what, where, who, and why I like certain things. Wow what a difference reality looked like after a 12 and 12 member explained to me, I will be learning who I am when I begin my steps. More was revealed after I learned new shit is not a coincidence. It is the same common things, but new ability to me; I ignored and failed to use when I was trapped and holding myself hostage. I knew when I was using what I liked, because it was all I was subjected to. More likely I knew what my money was going to be spent on, the time it was going to happen, and with whom I wanted in my company. The things that use to be fun for me were pushed to the side, because I couldn’t do that and get high at the same time. My high was much more expensive and I couldn’t get that feeling that feed my emotions with just anything. I noticed this when after having fun was miserable, because I didn't have enough money to enjoy my desires to cap the night off. And this new fun could be found on corner, alleys, and storefronts most times sold buy people wearing the latest styles and very baggy jeans, not to mention limited English skills. If I was lucky mathematic skills also and then I would always look for them with shorts. I even figured out I picked my woman by what I enjoyed them doing to me, not looking at the fact shit is always sweet in the beginning and then I got to figure out step by step how to deal with the reality I later get exposed to. If she wasn’t wearing what I like, feet didn’t look like I wanted, she didn’t think, sound, or look the way I like she had a problem. If I just happen to allow her to make my acquaints I had to transform her to my standards. I was thrilled then. I got the privilege of directing her how to be with me. I knew she would not care if my love stood for her legs opened very easily. I preyed on the ones I thought was below and beyond in the opposite direction of being smart. Time changes everybody and the 12-steps make the adjustment understanding and acceptable. I am a prime example by what I wrote I can’t fit my own self in the new me. I am under attack by my choice of women. I have to change my obsession about my choices of what I see her looking like is what I a must have and not what I must get to know about her and then build on that. I want them slut looking appears, because it don’t matter what she think or don’t think before she say anything, all I was willing to listen for was what we doing, where at, and don’t stop!!! I based my life on who was willing for me to venture where other men have been before. I don’t know these people, but to her we all friends. Now I am a static she not willing to share what number I am. It shouldn’t be my concern who was stretching out the taffy, as long as I made her chime my name follow by go deeper was all that should matter. At the same time she would coo in my ears, you the only one. This bitch really thinks my head pops on and off, but I don't have a problem with her as long as I am that while we eye to eye of course. I know about her lack of education, maybe not sexual education, but as long as her pussy and head game does most of the talking I was alright. I was turned on like gas and electric switches when she started stroking and pumping up my ego. My emotions told me by her omissions my pipe is good for any woman, especially if she look at me hard enough. If she winks, I will follow her ass into a moat filled with alligators, which haven’t ate for weeks. Today I am controlling my destiny better then yesterdays ago. When I turn women down it is not easy as turning down my collar. I struggle with my transformation and I like it. I know one peek at the wrong pretty set of toes in them peek-a-boo stilettos, with the mountain road curves that would make you dizzy from a peek. And I know how I want to touch them, the Mac lips accompanying those bed room eyes trying to put me to sleep. Only to wake up from my daydream to keep witnessing this cover girl made up willing to go. Woo and a soft voice send chills up my staff, especially when she reply, “Ok, we go”. Cancel the trip to Vegas, because I think I just hit the jackpot. I can cash in my recovery, because I was addicted to what I see and wanna fuck long before I was addicted to drugs. When I first started using I made up in my mind the drugs and pussy went hand and hand. Any chick I thought was emotionally and physically addicted to tricks and treats became my responsibility to do whatever to get her to perform for me. I did whatever to make her my company to get high with. I was willing and sometimes able to get the best of both worlds, if she was willing and of my standards to do something STRANGE for some CHANGE or a hit. I am not ashamed to say I am afraid of myself with pussy, because I know I can be the most ruthless and cunning individual who has no mercy on volunteers. It isn’t a game when you want to play Russian roulette with my gun.

Thanks for giving me 108 days of no desires Addict name Carlton on the only day I guess you are suppose to give thanks. I say that because this is the only tradition, such as Christmas that is publicized as a must do. I used everyday damn near months ago; year’s olds and I always gave thanks. I was grateful to be alive after some of the shit I did. I was mostly glad that I was not arrested, got something that was what it said, but wasn’t to my expectation, but it was close enough. I was thankful mostly to have money for another go around if God risk the idea of letting me wake tomorrow. Back then my self-centered core of my obsession made my thanks for giving real ugly when I look at myself of yesteryear. Today I am apologizing to God for being the way I was back in the day. Today, I am thankful he allowed me to survive after committing voluntarily mental and physical suicide. Those were just some of the things my insanity was thankful of. Everyday was thanksgiving. The 4th Thursday of November wasn’t a priority to celebrate, because although I didn’t know where I was at in my life, I knew who had my back and made things possible. Understand since he made the way, I was using and abusing my will and I was thanking God for the wrong things. Now since I am able to be home from jail, I’m able to witness better days since yesterdays ago. I can honestly say Thanksgiving is just one of them days I don’t pay to much attention to, because everyday since being clean and serene has been thanksgiving to me. I choose be chilling here inside my business on this day by myself not celebrating by tradition, but by allowing myself to show thanks for what he had given me again. I am not looking to make a dollar, but I am here just in case. This is my thanks to the creator for allowing me to see how much of a productive associate of society I can and have been developing to be. I am also trying to revamp my talents, make it stronger, think outside the box and improve my conscience and produce more positive graphics. This is the gift I am utilizing that was given to me and in return delightful eye pleasing masterpieces is what I will give back, for a fee of course. I could have been doing a lot of things today that I was doing last year, but I am honoring the blessing I have received by remaining clean no matter what. How about staying clean even though you don’t have any current communication with your family. I refuse to be with another family to use a substitution to feel accepted. Talk about believing if you reach out to one of your family members would be one giant step backwards, because of the anger still stirring. I tired it once. It didn’t work and I moved on without using behind that negative feeling I tempting me. How about this will be the first and many more thanksgivings and other holidays your baby sister won’t be around. How about you want to so badly to be with your children but they won’t answer your request. Just like your mother they are too hurt to response to make my day better. Their feelings are still fragile behind my neglect and abandonment. I forced on them to accept my feelings when I was using. I understand their issues and I can’t do anything until the Creator feels I am worthy of their forgiveness and accepting me back into their life. Boy do it hurt, because I am powerless, I must not use regardless. I don’t have a problem being faithful and patient. How about when you wake up and wonder why are you here. Don’t you know it is so many forces against you and some are more confused, but won’t stop battling themselves to be the official in charge of the game? Not once are they paying attention to my feelings, but there is that self-centeredness circling my moat clinging onto victimize label. I want to use that as my ace in the hole, because claiming to be a victim is all I know. Why don’t I stop being jealous of those relationship around me and realize I am powerless, limited my grow in that area. I am focused on change, but not locked fully on accepting this situation so I feel the confused emotions that surround my triangle of self- obsession. To me I feel like I am responsible for everything involving me and I am also responsible for everything revolving around me, because me being under their spell keeps them happy. The spell is not evil, but it sure seems selfish. A lot of things I feel I won’t share, but those things needed to be said, so people will know where my head is at- one is in my pants and the other is being filled with confidence, but every now and then I fall sure. I still can dwindle in my pool of drowning low self-esteem. The control of capacity at my pity party had arrived at a major caution level. Immediately I did something I have never done in my past. I had summoned some help and I was God’s conspirator. He listen as I softly vented my inner most emotions and I had my feelings loosely gripped and I let it float on, as my thoughts dug a hole in my gut to release that disease from my soul I was locked up by. I was able to feel the chains unwrapped from ankles so I could walk away emotionally undamaged. I didn’t go to bed that night feeling alone and had company. I didn’t fall off to sleep feeling despaired, hopeless, fear with wondering of tomorrow. I hadn’t even given myself a chance to go to sleep yet and I am thinking about another day. I couldn’t possibly want to carry my same self pass go. I would have been like a surfer the moment a big wave came, WIPEOUT. What was left to do since it is no more drugs I could use for my trick and treat Cinerama? Have another conversation with God. This time I was thanking him for his giving. Some times I can have a plan of the century and I don’t know where the energy come from to redirected me from it. After it is all said and done, surprising of the outcome, I see where I am no longer in control as I thought. I wonder most times if I am doing the right thing by procrastinating sometimes, because damn, if it all don’t fall into place most times. I guess that is what easy does it really mean. Don’t rush too destroy your life by not thinking or having the vision to see what you doing in the first place. I know sometimes I feel I am wasting my time thru the day by chatting with my friends, well a lot of other people think I am, I personally feel they are the unseen force of a new fellowship. They my extended family I can trust, feel comfortable with. To me those that judge don’t matter. Those that matter I don’t ever feel they are judging they and me know who they are. I feel comfortable knowing or feeling God has made this possible, because even when I was trying to commit my life to a graveyard they were there. One of them was there after I was captured like an animal, trapped in a dorm with a 100 different personalities, and numerous turnkeys trying to institutionize my mind to keep coming back there. I still thank that individual for never denying me the privilege to communicate with a no-recycled thinking human being secluded with 24-7. I am forever grateful to know I will always have individuals out there in a fraction of the 50 states, who have never touched, but I can feel love me unconditionally regardless of my past faults. I know I am doing what the program said lead by attraction not promotion, because I do my best to follow GOD instructions, Good Orderly Directions. I feel so much better today not be known as 2253790, but as addict name Carlton, who is also known by at least one or more people in 50 states and the UK for a excellent graphic artist, who is open-minded, honest, and willing to be both without question. I am grateful I was able to over come a lot of my thought to be secrets. I fought to hide the fact I was trying to let my addiction bury me alive. I am grateful I am an addict, who will always be, and don’t have to practice being an addicted one. I am more grateful I learned how to read not between the lines, but be honest when I undercover to discover this process of importance, which is my recovery. Hell I don’t mind letting my soul get buck butterball naked when I share about who Carlton is. He’s an awesome person and always been. I guess if I wasn’t scared of him I would have been came clean, but God knew the pain I had cause wouldn’t have never gotten my soul cleanse, until I experienced some pain to desire his will and forgiveness to become more appreciative for his blessings. I will always love the way my life is being mole to be used as a model for newcomers that are coming in the door that was open for me as well. I will be the tutor teaching them by examples I catch on to. The elders were my tutors. Knowing that the teacher, the great one himself never lead none of us astray or abandoned us not once. I will be honor to do his will not mine as long as I am able to distinguish night from day. God I got your back, because you got me surrounded. What I am shown today is a reprieve from my former soul. The deleted times I utilized with the getting and using only added up to make my motivation unqualified. It is no wonder why I seemed lost as a result of it. I was a disaster and wouldn’t even admit it to myself. Lost with no direction away from them corners, alleys, away from the baggy clothes wearing nameless hopeless souls claiming they can guarantee me something which equal to nothing and help me destroy everything. I was even visiting establishments in hopes to get that other mood-altering element that was issued by licensed providers, who didn’t have to convince it was legal. It was all-good as long as I didn’t let anyone of a enforcement society find me mis-using its appearance in public. I took that most times to another frame in my saga’s editorial trying to form another destiny for an unknown arrival. In the beginning it seem weird, but in all I wasn’t no stranger to something I was doing since I was a toddler. My insanity each time made me think I was going to feel something different that would tutor my emotions how to be someone different. I knew I would have the courage I was starving for. The attention I would surely get, because everybody loves a drunk the disease said. I was under the misconception I wasn’t a drunk though, so whatever they was off I would accept and I would make them welcome me. I wasn’t shy no more after so many ounces; I was quite the unliked person I noticed later in life. When I looked back I noticed and didn’t have to assume I didn’t like me. I really couldn’t have recognized how much of a substance abuser I was until I got in the rooms and heard phenomenal stories of me being told by others, who I never met. People who I had no idea was really telling how the disease effect all of us the same and affect all areas of life dramatically. Newcomer don’t just step into the rooms to get your feet wet. I wetted my first once and it took me damn near 10 years to get dragged back to shore. If I had only lifted the anchor I had wrapped around my mind I would have not experienced so much self-inflicted trauma. People tell me all the time it wasn’t your time and I know they are right, because when I had the time to get the blessing of a moment of clarity, I didn’t know what to do with it then so I would have only been wetting my feet again. Shit I might have now have been drowning and refusing to break my fingers from the tight grip wrapped around my own will. I am self disciplined now because I know my fairy tale is not going to be a happily ever after ending, because being an addict is not going to always come with sweet beginnings and happy endings. There are going to be those bitter wishing it were sweet times ahead. I can’t say I’m ready for the tests that most of us believe are so painful. I know what is not going to make that pain go away giving that addiction parole Pain is pain no doubt, but if we compare the most evilest times to what we are going thru or going to get a turn to go thru we will have to admit to our selves, we sometimes can over dramatize things just so we can have something to bitch about. I have experience death while I was using and I buried my head into my addiction. This time around I have the knowledge not to use. I actually am not fearing the experience and nor do I welcome it, but what can I do about it? I am powerless over that, but I am empowered with my knowledge of I don’t have to use. I have been enriched with information to reach out immediately. I must pray, go to my meetings and let someone know, I am having a crisis’s I cannot handle by myself. I know my disease is going to rear its ugly face. I know the only thing the disease want is me to join the departed, so my life must go on without the use of a drink or drug. I can’t just be talking about myself, because I hear everyday about someone going thru something. Newcomer – old-timer don’t test the waters. The light is always brightest in the rooms. Them epics don’t have to star you or myself, because in the rooms we get our chance to shine in a better light. The more we keep coming back and replaying our own story more will be revealed. We all are noticed for being who we are instead of who we were not. All the time we were trying to protect our disease with our alter ego. I am responsible for my recovery and I can also be responsible for sharing my efforts to keep walking strong while recovering. I don’t need no seconds, thirds, or any other chance to become a volunteer to victimize others and myself. My resume’ states I am a trained technician in the field of stupidity. Just for today my choice is to mind my business, which is my recovery. I don’t have to measure my or anyone else’s recovery. All I have to do is follow the traditions and remember recovery is my theme. The joy my spirit feel is my confirmation I am doing God’s will not mine. Not once will I have doubts about my faith limiting my blessings. I can’t believe in someone that I can see more then the spirit I can’t. The process of my life is beautiful. I am learning how to be happy. Thru trial and error I am beginning to learning what acceptance really is. Discovering who accepts me really don’t matter any more or less, because I know who won’t deny me. It is a ultimate force that is greater then any human being. This force has done for me thru people who don’t have an idea it is not of their doing. The Higher Power don’t need their permission to use them to give me a blessing thru them. The knowledge I have to appreciate less is probably the way the HP is humbling me. He won’t allow me to bear no more then I can handle. I had more then I could think of and I fucked up. This time around I am following the advice written in the basic text “easy does it.” Talk about being over joyed to be committed to something, a place, and a society that is not governed by man, but thru God sharing his grace and mercy with addicts around the world is priceless. Every addict earned a seat in the rooms to learn how to live again. So when certain members talk about me they are really providing me with a test that I must first understand, even if I don’t want to accept it. I must pray for the guidance to remain strong, because it shall past. Their character defect isn’t my problem to solve. It is a situation to ask for guidance to resolve. I could be suffering from the same acute defect. Through them they may be helping me to recognize I must change myself, because I am powerless over them. My God have a funny way of showing me stuff or seeing if I am worthy of his fruits. I am thankful for all the credits the program have to offer and those credits are of those who are walking the same path, at different strives, and most of all with the 12-step motivation process. This process gives me goose bumps it is so awesome. I am just a part of a growing society that needs me and I can’t survive without it. This is certainly a thanksgiving time I am glad I was able to share not just about my accomplishments, but my commitment to remain clean and serene no matter what.

Going into my 4 month Addict name Carlton. I am going into my 4 month, a 107 days to be exact. I was looking at my life in dept and I noticed I came a long ways in short period of time. I feel like superman transforming from an active obsessed compulsive addict morph into a striving to be a dependable, sociable, willing and able, contributing member of many arenas that society of any kind will admire by my attraction instead of looking to hear my promotion. O my, what a difference I made when I realized what being obsessed with being high was. I can now focus on my different disabilities and know they all resulted to mismanagement quickly escalating to unmanageable I allowed. I had all the warning signs flashing in my face. Anyone who notice or is told that all of sudden their in capabilities are due to the desire not be manageable, because of drugs better listen. In me, all things slowly started happening, but in reality, they was moving quickly. After awhile it, were no options left to ignore what made me appear powerless with my applications to control? I had become a derelict of my own social society, me, my, & I. I was a member of the have not and was comfortable with want nothing, but a drug club, so my name became who. When I was asked to do something beneficial, because my addict was not so noticeable, I was locked up with this disease, I was constantly answering a question with a question, WHO? Hell to me it was a statement of the answer that meant no, but my tongue wasn't strong enough to spit that omission out, so I showed most times, I wasn't doing what was required. If no one was answering my jeopardy question, "what could I do to keep using and be manageable? That most times nothing else mattered. In my mind for some time I assumed the disease was backing me up like a cop would do with his partner. I was empowering every source of dealer who had what I desired and kept me chasing the quickly eluding high, as long as I had money my illusion was supported, (“look out for when you see me coming. I want more of them things, if the quality is right). Some of them knew it could be half-decent and if the block was empty or the garbage men were out, they had my business. They would literally fight or possibly kill one another for my dollars. In the beginning I was big money in the end I was on some other tip. I probably paid their rents, car notes, put their children thru college, in days the way I was catering to this hungry beast that moved my soul over and required my responsibility only pay attention to stroking its ego. I was ok with the euphoria just for the moment. Once that motherfuckin situation started becoming more and more out of sync and range, I was becoming this characteristic-less being, who’s self obsession with the core of his wants for narcotics, yeah that dangerous shit we was warned about, multiplied by 10. My alphabet cereal and soup had words in it like coke, Shirley, pills, weed, crack or what I was going to do to get that shit. In my mind the only thinking withdrawal from my five senses, was who had a dollar I could have and did not bother me about why I wanted it? I was operating on how to hide the fact from my family and friends I was self worthless to many. I would remain as long as I dwindled on how to attain this illusion of being high feeling, which always seem to slip thru my fingers the minute I exhaled. I was practicing stuffing my pipe with more and more, as long as the money provides the close to good stuff. In the very end, God started playing a game of patty cake with me. I thought I was smart enough to rob patty and snatch them cakes. Come to find out God knew patty and them cakes wasn’t right. I thought to myself wait until I see this motherfucker. He had the nerve to allow me to feel I took some good shit. All I had done was stumble across the shit he didn’t even want. He was probably glad I found it. My mind never wanted me to ask for shit it. The disease told me to hook and crook mode 24-7. Why would I ask and do not get it? It made no sense for me too get shit on the arm when I could be slick and snatch that shit straight out his palm. I had many victims, who volunteered their trust in me and never knew I didn’t know how far I could trust myself. Their goes that euphoria creeping away just as soon as I was getting the idea how to outsmart it. Maybe next time. In my mind I was the head of something which did not have no leaders, but leave it to me I was controlling something. Most times the person with something at the time or the person with the most could lead a team to the Gold in the Olympics to be truthful. In the rooms, two addicts together is a meeting. On the streets two addicts together mean they up to something. If it is a drought on earth and a mother fucker, say they got that shit on the moon. I guarantee you, if one of them addicts is like me we will be there before the night is out. If I tell you an ant can pull a train, hitch him up. Some sort of transportation is going to get us close enough to that shit. Now how we get that transportation depends on the resources available. If we are in Florida watch out NASA, a nigga going to figure out how to borrow (in my mind that wasn’t stealing. I might bring it back) and fly one of them space shuttles. O did I mention I do not have near driver's license and I will not comment on how PS2 was my drivers Ed class. The thing about drugs leadership comes like first has first lead or the first with the most gets the job. And I wasn’t the head all the time or the best choice, so I had to settle for being the caboose more times then I can remember. Plenty of times I wasn't even on the train. From the situations, I learned certain shit came with that ass way of thinking and accepting. In time, I learned not to adapt to a lot of the bullshit, because I was tagging along. I had my own bullshit, so why should I accept any one else's? The only time two addicts are ever going to be on the same page is when they don't have shit and their mission is get that medicine by Malcolm's theory: Any Means Necessary, The Street Way HOOK and/or CROOK, and always keep Murphy's Law in mind, whatever is going to happen will happen, fuck it, was my thoughts. I guess that is why I stayed stuck on stupid for so long. I feel for the still suffering addicts and those that are sharing clean living dirty. Put that mask down and look in the firkin mirror this shit about you too. I just knew smoking was the best choice, after sniffing was taking me somewhere I don’t recall being comfortable all the time. Since I thought I was superman that S must stood for snort, sniff, or smoke, because I wasn’t Shooting shit, except in or on people. Sorry for those of you that might have been caught in the cross fire from whichever gun I used. My insanity was always fucking with me, especially after I was burnt, it should have been over at that moment, but it was not. I could not accept the fact real was not in the picture. I had to still smoke it or like I use to call it test it out anyway. Should had kicked my own ass for trying to justify that ridiculous shit. My insanity pimped my dumb ass for a lifetime. Today, I know back then I was not mentally balance. I was unstable as a table with three legs and no screws to hold it together. I am glad I am here to write about the truth. I am glad today God opened my eyes so I could finally find a room that house the same sick individuals like myself. People who now do not have to chase their obsessions because their emotions are being trained just one of anything is not acceptable in any column. I am glad to be inauguration to the 90 /90. Instead of 90 meetings in 90 days, I went to 167 meetings in all. Through that knowledge they had waiting I arrest that superman character and become Carlton H aka Clark Kent. Clark is a clean cut mother fucker, he don't required no cape or crack to fly high, nature highs keep me elevated just for today. Today nothing is better than looking at who I am not. In addition, some of those have nots are not, because I do not want it, but because being patient is what is possible just for today. I know one thing that I cannot put in the category is using people, places, and things. I am tired of taking advantage of opportunities that lead me nowhere or lead to have to answer some uncomfortable questions, so I deleted those shits from my agenda. I really have to Thank God for stopping me right around the corner from where I was when I gave up on my $80k business venture. I felt God had a purpose and reinstalled that seed back in my head. I went to jail around the corner from where my business inside a business was located. To make matters seem more rewarding I seen one of my partners, who claimed he had my back and he was on his big tymers talk about rejuvenating something I really didn’t see no option called help in my vision. I do not recall I was accepting applications for the use my ass position. You think I forgot how my talent and I were raped? Because of my using, I know I volunteered. Personally, at times that lesson hurt so bad it felt better to keep the recycling process alive and well later. Why would I be Peter again to make sure Paul Eat? I can tell you what I am not just for today. I am not the old crack head, the once weed hound, the crazed fan of Shirley, who later married her. I do and did with her not to many people feel comfortable about admitting or care to remember. I know I am not that same inhumane person that cannot lift his head up and notice the big picture. I am not that person that drops his head and be afraid to make eye contact, because one eye might be looking like it is trying to be wonder off peeking in someone else business. No I am not afraid to smile wondering, if people could see the teeth missing in the back or I am afraid they going to comment I need to stop eating that butter. I can’t justify that I brush them enough and it won’t come clean due to I smoked whatever. Hell I might have to get them shits sandblasted and that probably won't change shit of course; mother fuckers will find something to bash you on. I know some people that could light up the galaxy when they smile. No, I am not that whore who prey was bitches and if you look like one you might have gotten a turn, just cut the lights out and we will talk about that shit never. No, I will not lower my standards to be accepted, by certain circles, venue, societies, or families, especially if they sound clean and living dirty. Their actions march together like a band of misfits in Iraq. I am not that slowed sharing his thinking person, because he afraid no one wants to hear an addict anyway. Hell it took me a minute to realize those that pretend not hear what you said, are not necessary ignoring me. They still addicted or afraid of their reservations Carlton. They are not use to information informing them about changing, maturing, and how not to desire suicidal options. They waiting for someone (me or like me) to say wheres it at, and do not worry I will not tell. I am not the one that is going to validate their true bill indictment bullshit. I do not play with my disease. I know that mother fucker is capable of convincing me they need my company and I take its advice. I am not that "nigger," that "never is gonna get a head." I am not that other "nigger" that believe because I am an addict I am "never is gonna get equal respect." When I changed my mind, I changed the status of how people looked me and it was not about what they thought. I had to remind myself it was what I always knew. Now that I think about it, I am definitely not that "nigga", who "never is getting goals accomplished." Think about this and let it marinate, I accomplished one of my goals already if you got this far. Personally, if you finished reading this, well, that was one of my goals. I wanted to be able to write something anybody could read from start to finish. The other goals are also possible, hoping you enjoyed it and hope I was able help someone. Thanks for reading what I had to share.

100 days – 265 to go Addict name Carlton. I guess some thought he finished or he using. No, I just thought I would stop spoiling you all with my inventory of my life. I just been building up a foundation and spreading the message and not the shit the messenger said. I believe in anonymity, even if I don’t get the same respect. It is just something about pushing up on other people’s business “YOU FEEL ME?” Hell if I can’t solve my own problems what good am I to want to try and solve the price of gas? Any way, I was trying to do a blog one day and it got so tense I said, fuck that I can’t push this one out. I got to save something for my 4th step, personal inventory same shit I be writing, but I am suppose to tell everything. I will bring it to the net after I reviewed it with my sponsor. It had a lot to do with religion and resentments. It got so deep I felt like was going act out and do something to release my anger. And I couldn’t be angry with no one but myself. This is my words, my life, and the shit I volunteered for and showed up with commitment scribbled across my face. I became the opportune person looking for opportunist so I could punish them for being so naïve and granting me an opportunity. I was terrible, because the disease had made me believe what was manifested, which is as far as I could see. While being caught by the invisible force I could have sworn it was someone in front of me. It was someone me trying to look past myself. I couldn’t face my future constantly looking in my past getting lost. The disease had me feeling I didn’t really have anything to write about. It told me to reduce my meetings (I really have to one a day). I need to specify I have only, because I have a business and I am also addicted to my graphic arts. I need to be somewhere I can identify helping out my cause with my future. I have a opportunity to make something more out of myself then to be seating in meetings all day and then wonder why my talent isn’t going no where, why I am not an inch better then I was last year when I stopped. What happen to all them ideas I had, I can’t remember, because I don’t want to. God was waiting to be invited in so he could guide me along the way and all I could think about before I gave him the invitation was assume he had always been there. He was but I never asked for his help. Until I did so, things became easier, my patience soared, and my ability made me battle weariness. I knew my job is not complete, but with God half the job is done. Now when he wakes me up tomorrow I can go after the other half. Today that is what I am doing. Now when I first started off this Blog I had other things in mind. They didn’t want to come out the cage and roam around with all the other animals in the zoo, in my head. 100 days - 265 days to go. Over the last 10 or more years, I never thought I could put together another set of extremes like I have. I was here before for two years on my own. I had changed for the better and it definitely wasn’t over night. I was always helping people, my spiritual side had never died, I was prayed up and I wasn’t in the rooms. Now I have to share about that, so if I am jumping around I have to because some people don’t believe u is recovering unless you are in the rooms. Then some feel if your thinking hasn’t change then, if you used all you did was given up your clean time, but you didn’t relapse. I really want to touch on this and I will. I had just lost my house and other of the world shit, I had two more children, same age, and they not twins, and you figure it. I had been trapped between both of their mothers. I can say I was addicted to one and using the other one just like the drugs. I was really caught up on the weed, as minimum as that might seem, when you getting some of the most exotic shit, coming in on the boat, somebody please tell me how you managed not to getting obsessively addicted. I was an addicted then and I wouldn’t face it, because to me weed wasn’t a drug or it wasn’t considered a controlled dangerous substances. Yeah right, alcohol I convinced myself wasn’t one either. Any way, the lifestyle had begun to eat way at me like a cancer. I was losing shit; basically I was giving it away and wasn’t sweating it. Only until the money disappeared I noticed something was wrong. By now the houses were gone, the car, the other woman, including my third baby mother, she had been jumped off the plane, but I hadn’t really paid attention to it. I was trying to make the rest of the other passengers comfortable as possible, while I crash-landed this motherfucker. Unfortunately, all those bitches jumped off and I was the only emotionally scared, mentally damaged, infected individual now with a disease called addiction. Never in my wildest dream had I thought smoking weed would have done this. It had to be something more, but it wasn’t. I couldn’t stop fucking smoking and I didn’t know what the hell to do about my habit. I wanted to continue, I was smoking more weed in a sitting then a crack heads did with crack for real for real. You know you addicted when you still aren’t trying to face the facts and tell yourself lies to break your fall. The rocks at the bottom of the pit weren’t looking so comfortable upon approach, but what could I do about the pain? In my case find a new way to handle more pain. I was powerless then but I was still fighting. I had beefs that lead to the judge calling me the defendant. I was on trial for a faction of my life and getting high was the only solution at the end of my days. My anger was getting the best of me now. I was becoming enraged with self. I was fuckin up the children, my middle girl and her brothers. I hate to say it they got on my nerves, but I was the problem, I realized. It got to the point they called their fathers. They met me one day when I got home and was trying to hold court in my vestibule. I was going to go against both of them, but to be truthful I was so fucked up, I got sober on sight. I was scared because I wasn’t physically or mentally prepared for them both. Probably not even a one on one would have been helpful, if I wasn’t indulging heavily. My thoughts was, if I could get upstairs it is a wrap for there asses. I thought seriously I was going to get my ass kick 1st. but when these assholes let me get upstairs in my or her house, I rented but was in her name, I thought about coming back downstairs and clear out the block, fuck my house only. I don’t like witnesses. I was trying to donate some blood. I knew I was going to volunteer the rest of lifetime to the farm (prison). Miraculously, I thought about the consequences. I got upstairs looked around at what were left I had to lose and the only thing that appeared was I in the mirror. The disease told me, don’t do it we aren’t finished using yet. Mind now I had just won a couple major cases so this one would have added insult to injury in the judge’s eyes. What couldn’t happen happened and it wasn’t just in my mind. My mother fuckin bitch at the time had been flirting with Johnny Law and got my last high strip taken right from under my nose. By then the coke was starting to call me, hell crack was on my- door steps. I mean them mother fuckers was outside selling packs like they was 7-11 store open 24 -7, but I couldn’t stand what it did to people, so that wasn’t my hook yet. To make a long story short, the police was staked out ready to take a niggah down. Till this day you not going to tell me she wasn’t giving one of them toy soldiers some pussy the way they started fucking with me. But then something came over me. It felt like the skies opened and said, “This is not you. Examine what you have become.” Then the same voice asked, “What plans do you want? Do the bitter ends, jails, institutions or death, sound good to you? Or do you want to investigation the options of help self?” I had met a real powerful sister who just happened to give me a break and saved my life. I felt like I gave her permission. What I did from that point changed my whole life and it is still working today in my life. It works, because after the multitude of unsuccessful trial and error attempts I know I couldn’t tell help how to help me. So what I did this time was ask the court’s to help me. I wrote the Judge that saved my life month’s prior. She directed me to a self-help program, called Young Fathers Responsible Fathers. That was the changing point of a periodical timetable of unmanageability. Note unmanageability doesn’t mean you don’t want to gain some sort of control of the events in your life. In some cases our upbringings failed us. We acquired the same mismanagement techniques because we didn’t know any better. We fell under the assumption we got the best guidance from our parents but heres the hit, you don’t have to remain. First thing in order to stop failing, is release that ego we confuse with pride. If it sounds likes you welcome the message. Take advantage of the much-needed help, even if it sound like someone is trying to control you. Hell think about someone with higher power (on earth) then yourself telling you where and what time to eat, shit, go to sleep, or telling you this is not yours get out, give me that back, or no your ass can’t have this. Then after you think about how someone can help you own some shit like your self esteem, property (other then what is on your back or you can gather up in 15 minutes, then you will see maybe they are not trying to control you, but instill some in your ass. I was there to the end of the road, and then I learned I could cut the corner and find another direction. Hell and if it wasn’t one I could construct a road and not dwell on any dead ends whether job, relationshits, family dilemma people using as ammunition to shoot down your goals. Thru the0 program it was designed to support me. I learned quickly I don’t have to be a bird and fly over certain situations, with the ability to use what was instilled in me I can think of another avenue to cruise down and get past that situation to safer grounds. Thru this program and the mentors I had develop a sense of direction. My attitude went from ABM: Angry Black Man to a manageable respectable growing man, who was able to be a better communicator, I had reinstalled some positive responsibilities back into my life. No longer was I hunting for someone with responsibility so they could consume mine. I wasn’t any longer a burden others would accept because I was easy to be controlled. It was a give and take situation; because I had some good tricks behind my zipper and they didn’t mine giving. My manipulation tactics was used to get my way through the program, I accomplished my GED in a matter of months and 30 days later I was getting credits from an institution. Not an institution I was destined for where some individuals wore white uniforms and name tags. Hell I even become employable no longer was I a risk. I was always articulate, but I had expanded that learned sense and took that on the road. I had become an advocate for fathers and mothers, I had taught classes at Universities. Here was a person that stood near universities and served students shit to keep them up running around like a lab rat in a cage. I was doing some heavy shit and I thought I wasn’t even strong enough to carry my own weight. You never know what you can do, if you never appreciate what you ask 4 and especially, if you don’t utilize what God gave you a chance at CHANGE. Hell I was one that never thought my television would do nothing for me, but show me other people. Then one day that it tells lies to your vision (television) had me on it telling people the truth. And as a matter of fact on several programs that went nationwide. I was presenting to men and women, change is available if you want it. Tell me God wasn’t good and I wasn’t trying to honor his wishes. I was and felt I was recovering. Recovering in MY BOOK means CHANGE, not just you’re outside appearance, but your insight, intellect, and attitudes. How as are they going to identify with your expectations if they don’t meet in the middle? Somewhere the disease caught up with me and had me entangled with my will wondering was I trying to continue to make believers out of doubts. Meaning the longer I continued to deal with politicians, judges, different programs, I slowly started developing a dislike behind certain shit that I wasn’t groomed for. See no one was ever schooling me about the bullshit I would face, how character assassination didn’t discriminate and how those around you calling themselves your mentor really had other designs with their program, I wasn’t suppose to see. After I was bashed in the face with reality, I had assumed maybe I was used up in the political world. I thought this was just an opportunity I could utilize without the use of the participants I was surrounded around. So when I dismissed myself out of certain circles that were protecting me my mind I began to unmindfully wonder back towards the barbershops and the corners near there. I wasn’t missed and I was welcomed back slowly by the disease. My visits was slowly shredding my accomplishments, harming my spiritual values, my trust in God was starting to look bleak. I wasn’t asking of his guidance as much and he didn’t seem like, TO ME, he mind. Boy was I wrong. Soon that disease made using again and taking back my will seem like it wasn’t such a bad idea. Shit I wish I could turn back the hands on my dumb broke watch. It was only right twice during the day when I began using again and time to cop. Then I lost my watch and everything was all about getting and using. I had caught up to that same person I thought I had lost. Today’s approach is my correct guidance. The days of yesteryear blinded me and my ego with the help of the disease lessened my ability to recognize I was starving, because I didn’t have the help of a 12-step program. I was applying the applications’ to recovering, but was my plans about recovery or was it concentrating more on the fame? To receive and accept recovery then please tell me I was wrong. Make sure you can point it out in black and white. I don’t want to have to try and figure out what phrases of the text are manipulated to satisfy your opinion. I thought if following the path of your spiritual was identified and equally displayed then what could be the problem? I had been questioned “is there recovery, if you are not in a 12-step program?” And farther more is everybody process, experience, or timetable the same? I think, just talking about my belief and me until, God answers that question then I guess the book is more proof then burden. People with their views are burdens thrown out there to hinder your process. Stop being so hard on yourself, because simplify is what us newcomers are adapting to. So what the tools are the run of mill trial and error tools you didn’t had when you came around. Hell those of you should appreciate us, because it much is some shit you missed that you know you need now. And since it has been made so much simple maybe you can help and study side by side with the new comers, like myself. No I am not thinking you don’t know nothing, but give yourself a break and never stop learning. In this process getting a 12-step program is critical. It is valuable to have a set of men and women just like yourself, who you can see yourself in. Yes, being able to identify you wasn’t the only person in the world that couldn’t beat drugs is what many of us need in order to identify, being clean is the way you arrest the problem. Some of us go on for years challenging the process. Some actually think time or timing is the way to handle addiction. Never once would we just accept we got fucked up by something that can’t talk, walk, or feel, but the ass whipping down the road it have waiting was crucial... Too many of us don’t want to accept defeat. Never once has it entered in their head you not relapsing because of the drugs. The drugs were just the option after you changed your mind. If our obsessive thinking isn’t open to change we will always be bothering time and never giving ourselves a break to recover. I personally know what parts now to change and why, because some scars aren’t visible but internal. I am not afraid today to give myself a break again for the third time. This time I must make it a charm. I plan on working it, because thousands of addicts before me proved it works. I can honest say the year just before I got here I once again found out that self help process doesn’t work!!! Don’t try to recover on your own. You are wasting you time. Without the information, a fellowship, a sponsor, the steps and especially God, you are in trouble. Now if you have God and you ask for his guidance and 12-step processes keep popping up in conversations with other addicts or whomever, take the suggestions it works. A time of illness was another lock that I didn’t have the key to. If I was equipped with a bunch of addicts I would have been all right when I found out I had lymphoma. I wouldn’t have got so entangled up with all the different drugs and found one I liked and as a result found me some baggy clothes people with the medicine I was use to. My rite aid was located in the alley or stashed in their dip under their balls, in Reynolds wrap or in reseal able bags between their ass cracks. I wouldn’t have thought the skittle color bag or tops with that mixture would make me think purple hearts, green clovers, and yellow stars was my lucky charms. I wouldn’t have thought of them mother fuckers at Johnny Hopkins was killing me with the after effect of their medicines, so why not try my own regiment of suicide. It might be slow, but oh it feels so good, ONLY when you have money. It won’t feel good if you are BROKE!!! So don’t go broke to them Baggy pants boys they might kill you and then the game is over.

97 days and Good Morning Serenity Addict name Carlton. I am here and I must continue to Thank God for his mercy and guidance thru this place we go thru hell on, because we don’t want to admit this is one step closer to the devils kingdom. The disease is one of his trusted worthless servants that are constantly on guard waiting for a slip up in my guidance program. My thinking is always under siege; my open minded is constantly being challenge to narrow, so that one moment of clarity could be stomp on. If that ever happens, that flame that kept light at my feet for guidance is in serious jeopardy. The moment the idea of using don’t sound bad my willingness is on the verge of dying. The reservations and preparation to use is like machete is always ready for my use to finish chopping my life up. I started it in the beginning and if I recycle that thinking, I know what that Rolette wheel is going to manifest in the end DEATH. I can’t talk about nobody else, but it is not a coincidence that my story might sound like I am biting someone’s ass off. In actuality detail for detail, the disease has made it possible for many of us to look like identical twins story-wise. The disease doesn’t have a care in the world, who he chose to mimic each other after. I know my story don’t have just dotted I’s and crossed T’s, I done some shit in the beginning that down sized my confidence and spirits tremendously in the end. What I use to like turned into things I never thought I would do. What I use to look like turned into I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. Someone had to tell me I needed a shave, get that crust out your eye, your breathe stink. Yeah, you think I didn’t need to look in the mirror to brush my teeth. I did any way, because I wanted to see if my yellow teeth were going to ever turn white again. I had to be told I needed to do something with my hair. The disease told me put a hat on you alright and I believe that shit. And the women, I messed with, who was supposed to do my hair, like they promised, did it when they got Good and Damn ready. I am only human and yes have resentments with them about that. As long as I keep coming back, that issue will change also. The program said we will love you until you love yourself. True some will, but others will love you or love to hear what the hell you saying for how ever long you talk or are in their company. If they love you so much then why don’t they try to make friends with you, hug you sincerely, find out how you feel when they can see the pain dripping from your words or in your eyes? What happen to bridging the gap, find out, if you need a ride home or to another meeting? Don’t try to see if you splitting your legs or swinging that lumber, I been talking about myself, but if I am stepping on anyone feet wrap them bitches up, because I am getting ready to start stomping. It is amazing how I look back and listen too many of addicts and I see a lot of myself. Some I don’t see a lot of themselves in their own story, but the more they share the real self can’t hide. I found that out as I write. I sometimes have to force that shit out of me, because the disease tell me it is embarrassing, but if it was then I shouldn’t have done that shit to begin with. Playboy bitches couldn’t get more naked as my ass. I told the world I am addict, I am always tell them that first. I walk around with my key chains sparkling. I don’t put them in my pocket like I am ashamed of the program. People know who you are, they tell themselves what they want to believe anyway, and until you clarify I’m a Grateful Mother Fuckin addict. Don’t ever forget that when you cross share about me. I also told on those who never were addicted with addict behavior, because of societies label and their thinking you couldn’t tell them nothing that had anything to do with the price of oil in the Middle East. My story constantly is journeying with me on my road to recovery. I can’t remember every single soul I done fucked over, but I got to let my fingers do the walking in my mental rolodex. I don’t want back track and get caught up and get scheduled again, for 12 rounds of bullshit and might get knocked the fuck out this time. FOR GOOD! The state will be air mailing my toe tag wearing ass home in a chicken box, because my disease likes to hand me the stem. Then I use that mother fucker like a machete. And once I get the chopping when I am finished I know it will be even less left to my skinny this time. I always been a hustler, I grew up in the apple and I was always nibbling at the skin, never cutting my teeth in the game, until I got my affiliation with gangs and then I wasn’t no real gangster, but I was into gang related shit. I wasn’t as bad as I wanted to be and I wasn’t cunning as the mask I had on showed me to be. I was scared most times of getting killed me for some of the shit I was supposed to do. Hell God saved many of people I was sent after or sent somebody after. It had nothing to do with Luck. If they just got their ass whip something more was suppose to happen. I am definitely going to take that one, because I got a turn to live out my own pain, I was inflicting on others. If someone ran or moves what some like to call it, in reality that was a blessing, because death was standing on their doorstep. When it happen to me, I was already being court order to leave NY or I was going find out how to adjust to life on something called RIKERS ISLAND. This is not a country club folks. In no way was I determining to let the turnkey raise me, become one of them thousands of men screaming for attention. No, I didn’t want to be put in the position where I would had to become Chef Ramsey, chopping people up or worst getting my ass grinded up like beef. So I did the next best thing I ran after I got my ass kicked enough in this gang shit. Yes, folks I pack the fuck up and got in my Aunt Car and burned up I-95. I was so scared it literally took me years to think about going back just to visit. I knew I had a contract on my head and it wasn’t anything dealing with a rental center or charge card co. I was wanted dead for some shit I didn’t do and I wasn’t ready yet. Street gangs in NY was nothing like these Kool-Aid boys, we fought like UFC fighter to the bitter ends, hospital bed or caskets, that choice was left up to your fight skills and I am still here. So when I wasn’t running I was scraping – anything goes and you better believe it or die doubting I wasn’t serious. I guess I could either run or fight, I am not going to lie I had to run plenty of times. Sometimes, ducking bullets, while I’m running faster then any USA Olympic team member. In fact they called me Road runner and when I put that ice or pistol in my hand they called me the Terminator. I wasn’t scared, but I wasn’t a dummy to know pain is pain and I couldn’t afford any doctor bills. My pains extended from my youth and torpedo me into adult hood. I land here in B-More-Careful and I learned quickly it wasn’t just the crime I had to be watchful of. I had the drugs, dealers, the cons, pimps, managers like myself I became later on in life, baggy boy pants already was, the faggots, transvestites I got trick by and half way tricked with, and those who make up the under world. But I the wannabe’s was the most infamous ones to watch, because they were just stupid and unaccepted, until I came along. I would groom them motherfuckers. I must be wasn’t a good teacher, because the majority met their end, dead, jail, or strung out. I am still attracted to the lifestyle, but I see where it got me and that was as a result of my best thinking. So you know me using my own mind, is off limits. It is amazing how in the beginning you feel like Obama do, on top of the world. I started out what I considered big. I had hand full’s of drugs to being delivered wrapped packages of drugs. I was wearing threads, skins, my suits had breasts, my shoes would bite, and they came in flavors and from places I could only see on television. I thought I was the shit taking Grey Hound, Peter Pan, and Trail ways to unseen places, spending large amounts of money. I could take a bitch with me lose her or send her back and trap another one on the fly and bring her ass back to B-more. At the same time, I was using some of the strangest drugs. The names were bad enough, but the feelings made me feel Yay or Nay to want to use it again. I wasn’t afraid of the drugs I was afraid of not being accepted. I had people in cities that would say to people in other cities that man is crazy as a mutha fucker. I was after using some of that exotic shit. How could anyone be normal afterwards? I’m talking about toting canons and waiting on people in some of the oddest places, like their house after using like my life depended on. When I was using I got out of control and yes, I was aware of it, but I was living to hear people talk about me. I thought I was some sort of legend in a Donald Goines book, this shit was what was in my mind and I have to write about me. I really can’t even begin to print some of shit I did with out a Lawyers Guidance personally. As a matter of fact I am going to direct my mind in another direction. I can stay that for my 8th step. In the beginning it is amazing how you go from selling weight to literally losing weight, like you got the bug. I had something alright, the pipe. I don’t know what it is that make you want to get all this energy and can’t even control the urge. I remember when I was fucking with Shirley that bitch just required I fight, that was something I liked and was use to. Crack turn you into Houdini, you got to be disappearing, pulling rock out of a hat, fuck with a 100’s of tricks just to feel normal and never succeed. I am just talking about me. In actuality yeah it is someone else story, because crack heads don’t venture to far from the crack house. I was definitely on time for the games just too bad I never had the instructions. I swore before God I could play this mother fucker out of position. Hell I shouldn’t have never allowed girls to come over to playpen or let them stay after I fucked with their brains with some of my weirdest fetishes, because they had tricks for me as well. I wasn’t introduced by mistake to some of the shit I took. They just didn’t want to feel alone and I never really knew something so good, voiceless, with a harmless appearance, could hurt your ass so bad in the end. I am sorry but I have to admit I still have resentments against them also, I am normal. Let a mother fucker say I am wrong, ok I will definitely keep coming back, because I am sick as my thoughts. I can’t hold on to secrets in recovery and expect to get the medicine I am crying out for. I can tell my history better then most, because it is funny to me now, wasn’t funny back then. It was more a mystery of what the hell I am I going to do next. When those oils don’t sell and the cops fucking with you because you live in Baltimore, but you a pirates fan. Yeah I was ripping a new asshole in the black market world and I really wasn’t putting a dent in the market for real. So why the hell was I investigated for making a living? Hell I had a habit to support, a need a roof over our head, food was optional, and I could steal something when nobody was looking. Hell, I could make a sandwich in the supermarket and as long as I didn’t try to take it outside, it wasn’t stealing. After I ate it where the fuck are they going to find the evidence? Fuck the video cameras; I ate in the blind spots. What happens when the people keep running up on u trying to slam you for stealing or selling? Bad thing the drugs they can’t find and it be right there in their hands. God knew these mother fuckers were going be blind. He knew I wasn’t to going to surrender and of course I had to finish putting the finishing touching to painting my horror mural. O so now everyone from women to whomever have became your victim, going for the jugular ain’t a bad choice, until Johnny Law want to ask you some questions. Damn, I thought I was thru with this case, but shit is always open nothing but eyes are shut. After awhile my financial status was looking like my appearance, fucked up. My bank account got robbed by me, my boss fired my ass and I worked for myself. Everywhere I walk to I thought I would get their faster if I hurried up and I still got no where. I was ready dismantling London Bridges, volt by nut, piece by piece. I even stripped the paint off that motherfucker. No joke, it is not required but everyone should laugh at this shit. But how do you go from being a legend, gang related leader chased to B-more, only to get entangled into drug, bitches, yourself, and then thru it all God still accepts you with open arms, but not before he too see how hard headed you are. I can’t deny I’m talking about me, because I don’t know anybody story better then mine. And then I still surprise myself. But what about you start a business in graphic arts only to stop trying to make $80,000 a year or attempting, to passing out pizza menu flyers, door to door at that. Then working for a mother fucker, who is younger, ignorant, arrogant, and at the same time he see more in me then I see in myself. I never knew how degrading I had subjected myself to, because that one more was the only thing I could count on. With a hook of some sort and a pray to God not for surrender, instead not to get burned or get something good was all that mattered. And I learned to put them flyers out like my life depended on it. You couldn’t tell me they weren’t treating me like a crack head, because as long as I got one, fuck what everyone thought! Too day I respect people who bottom takes them there, because I know you couldn’t have started out like that. From hustling drug, videos, movies, socks, incenses, oils, slippers, anything that was found in wholesale stores to in the end passing out mother fuckin flyers.

96 if you are keeping track Addict name Carlton. I am proud to be an addict, because if I wasn’t addict in recovery I would still be obsessed with my thinking. My core of self obsession would still be unwilling, un-honest, closed minded to becoming clean. I am really exposing myself to letting someone out there know it is ok to surrender. God is still around he hasn’t turned his back on you, no matter what or how you feel. It is always someone, like myself out here who know where you are at or been, but it is definitely not something that should keep the suffering ones trapped. I know I been there. I was comparing out more then in. It starts with how you present things, what you say represent your thinking. My thinking didn’t come till after I thought I did something slick and found out better. One of the main excuses or ways I compared out was when I used to say I only! That word only will get your ass killed by your own omission. KISS: keep it simple stupid, if you don’t and constantly look for files in cakes to break yourself out of your own jail, then your will die, if you don’t give yourself that break. Remember the times after you cry “God help me this one last time. I will do anything.” and didn’t realize what you was saying at the moment? I talking about myself, but how many times you relapsed the minute the pain was subsided or I got the money buy the material to make the mask I could happily wear just for that moment. I know I can no longer substitute money for help from God. I think about all those soldiers my comrades, who followed what those in that corrupted twisted thinking society considered the right way, just get one. It is the only way to be accepted by us. We that in crowd you are curious about and we do this and that. You can handle it. You got any money? If you don’t, come back when you got enough for ME and you. The only requirement for membership is USING. They as a resulted aren’t able to breathe and witness someone saying to them “keep coming back”. They believe what laws the disease displayed. They got caught in the hood’s limelight, which was a trapped the disease had waiting for them. Unfortunately, they won’t ever able to receive a one day key. No one is ever going to believe they had the desire to stop using. There are many who won’t have that option again to recover from their relapse. This disease is dangerous, because it targets our thinking first and make surrendering to something pulling you out yourself sound wonderful, so you of course I answered when it called. If them dopes and cokes are worth millions then think about how they got that valuable, thru us; the addicts of yesteryear, yesterday and today, fuck tomorrow because plans of tomorrow aren’t promised to me or anyone. Just for today I know I don’t have to be headed in the direction I came from 96 days ago. I look back often to see if it is someone looking for someone that have that attraction they believe who was similar to their story. Thru this process I choice to use this way to help them break the tissue walls box open they trapped in. I don’t just write this shit for my health, but then and again, I do because this helps me to realize my health does depend on staying clean and recovery behind making the high power my Spiritual Sponsor, is my priority. I refuse to not enjoy another Christmas day, which is today or any day I am able to be blessed to awaken. When I see the biggest smiles on people faces it reminds me of those on them Christmas morning after seeing you have a present under the tree. So if I picture today as Christmas you know what I am trying to achieve, making someone smile from the gift I was able to give them. This is the only way I can get something out of what I have and constantly being taught to give it away make me feel obligated to do so. I have to help anyway I see fit. My attraction is also a way of giving it away. When I was getting high people would asked me where I get that from. So if I am looking better they comment about getting themselves clean for once or again, because they remember or want to know how better life is on the other side of the fence. Not hanging in the balance in the middle of the fence fighting for equal ground. I remember as if it was yesterday a few of my friends, associates, and now that I think about it I was hanging with pack breakers (use at each other houses, trap girls together, team up on hook and crook capers, to get them pack and share it together) they aren’t here today and never had the chance to see how glory felt. It was a many of them that remembered me never wanting to touch the hard stuff. I told them I wouldn’t ever touch that shit. I was stronger then that. My I’s was too close together, if you ask me. I really was saying I was stronger then them. If that wasn’t a bitch, I justified what was hard, what wasn’t, thought I was better and didn’t pay attention I had them oars that was helping me slowly rowing my ass into them shark infested waters. Thank God, I didn’t keep my hands at my side and didn’t fight for that life preserver or to get to raft. And as long as I continue this recovery process I am going to hold on to this life preserver. Call me Linus (from the peanuts). But what I am saying is I remember preaching to them about how they have to give that shit up. I really didn’t have anyone taking my hand and telling me anything after I realized I was hooked. Hell I even ran with my imagination of I was beyond help, I was going to die using and pray for it. I guess I had to feel some of that shit I was preaching and thought it could never be me. Today, as I sit down and look at yesterdays, I admit they had to be my teachers, because I wasn’t listening or trying to hear a soul about NA. It didn’t matter if this mother fucker had a megaphone and showed me change on a movie screen. To be truthful I wasn’t thinking I was supposed to stop using at all. I even told the judge I wasn’t going to stop using. He said you’re Free to Go. Case Dismissed. I guess he said to himself, when you get enough pain, I hope you make back. Like a man at the meeting said, take an alarm clock to the grave yard, set it and see who wake up. I am grateful I haven’t made it that far. I want to be granted the blessings to wake up and enjoy my serene and clean time I am constantly praying for I remember when I thought I was in love with the drugs, I had to look at the idea and change the thought, because I don’t want that bitch to feel ever it is a chance to reconcile, fuck that. A few women till this day give me the willies’. In my mind, I see myself running; I keep it short and very sweet, because I can’t unpause that pain button. No matter how good the head and below the shoulders shit was, I won’t sentence myself to Life in prison. I would be a fool to make a U-turn after I asked God to help me. Of course when it stopped I thanked God and moved on. I do the same shit with them baggy pants boys. I keep it moving, because they like Jehovah Witnesses, but they promoting that pain I am accustomed to. In the beginning I would flitch like a rat ran across my foot. Hell when I said NO, my voice would sound so shaky and unstable; I had to wonder did they believe me. Now with some time under my belt my experiences with just for today have helped to mature my confidence to deal with my reality. I never needed it so why would I want it today? Still can’t think of a reason to use today. I also don’t think too long on the subject, because my obsessive destructive thinking would develop an idea, I’m alright. I can handle this thing and no one will know. Only you and God will know. How about the eyes I don’t see, who see me auditioning the 12-step program. What about that baggy boy, his runners, or the person I get to run for me. How the hell won’t someone know? It is too many people to kill just to keep my secret. I won’t force myself to be sick as my secrets again. I know how hard it is to live with the mask on I did it for decades. Of course the disease tried to convince me I could do it and hide many times in 96 day. Thank God I realized from the previous times that in order for me to survive this trip, I had to detour my thinking. My best thinking got me in trouble and surrendering daily got me this far. I and those that use to occupy my playpen that can’t share this recovery and never will be able showed me I’m not disease proof. This motherfucker scarred me for life. I don’t doubt it is uncanny with non-refundable pain waiting for my bails bondmen to post its bail. I am definitely glad it is no return options available and I am especially glad it has to require that I give it permission to be activated. Now think if you never activate shit then it won’t do any damage. I rather not play tennis in recovery. If I am going to get a turn in anything let it be something haven’t experience, because my past haunts me enough. But I bet you one thing I won’t hide like some rat in a hole. The same shit I am reporting, I won’t hesitate to admit I want help with this shit here. Too many of us let our I’s run too close together, so I refuse to be a part of that society, no I don’t know everything. No I can’t know everything, if I wasn’t taught it. Hell I am just learning about what is happening today, so who ever got a lesson that has some insight for bettering not speeding up my recovery, because recovery is a life long commitment, share that shit. I am glad I am living the example the program suggested, because what could I do better then promotion? Make my life look like a billboard. I know people can see, so let them remember my story and then look at the outcome. Hell I am like a movie, I had many sagas and epics running concurrent and now people see the main attraction that is promoting without a word it is a silver lining in the skies. That lining doesn’t have anything to do with money like I craved back in the day. My lining is open mindedness, honestly, and willingness. Those are the keys that are opening up many doors that have many people waiting, who are willing to help me continue my journey. Just for today if I haven’t helped anyone yet, I will keep coming back, because maybe my attraction will do it eventually. Like they told me a person using will have me using before I get them clean. I am willing to challenge that this way. If they keep reading they might become convinced maybe they do need to give themselves a break.

94 days, wow. Addict name Carlton again, and again, and yet again. I am like the disease I won’t ever stop. Stop what? I won’t stop staying clean as long as my days end the same way they started clean. Fuck all the bullshit that surrounds my soul casting judgment trying to reduce my faith, which is exactly what people never pay attention to, my faith. Sum resides around me in meetings day in and out trying show me how to wake and go to sleep clean. But since they are so busy trying to analyze who the fuck I am, they haven’t a clue I been cut my grass low, so I can see them long before they slither up trying to attack me with their cross sharing (trying to put a person down while they sharing). Why don’t they pay attention to whom I don’t act like, there fuckin self! What work for you did the program suggest do? It said, do whatever you do to stay clean, if it works. And it sure didn’t say mimic a mother fucker’s character, especially, those that carry that using mentality to maintain their cleansing methods. I don’t feel comfort just being clean and not trying to recover. Two entirely different things I hope or are they? Before I listen to people, I let my fingers do the walking thru a basic text, because I don’t need no temporary sponsor, who is still following the directions of their disease, either with or without a drug. I was personally, told by an old timer, they manipulate people stories, especially when they share and the basic text, so it sounds good themselves. Then they go on attack when they cross share trying to when the over those in the rooms. The rooms are their playground or arena to test out what disease ordered and they obeyed. And us new comers don’t know we volunteer to become victims when we demonstrate willingness, open mindedness, and honesty. We are so gun-ho on they got what we think they have and we need it. I’ll gladly take their time, but they can keep the concocted bullshit they passing off as Basic Text copy- right literature. Now I’m in the rooms and I am still getting burnt, only difference they using mis-informed information. People who are responsible for the make up of home groups resemble society outside the rooms; clean living dirty, just that fucked up! The reason why I am caring about another person’s recovery, because they trying to bash my attempts just to make their invisible to the program makers eyes. I had better uncover in order to recover, or I might decide to shop around for one, and get my face covered, with that white sheet. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what I am saying. We maybe in a program that practice being abstinent from all drugs, but we still have people that still use and drugs is not the product in demand. They use people, places and things to benefit themselves for social enhanced enjoyment to fill their voids. Meaning, miserable motherfuckers are equipped with their applications disguising it as invitations to attend their pity parties. They use their same obsessions with a touch of compulsion depending how far they willing to take it or someone allowing them to be taken to attack at will. Then you got those that pretend misery is never option, all the while they trying to recruit members and then they claim they have no harmful motives. Lets not forget those who can’t remain in their own business, if it killed them. They twist, unravel, rewinds stories and manipulate them so they sound good for their enjoyment. Worst part is when they play it back the major parts have been chopped and screwed into something harsh or elevated beyond its capacity of painstaking. Not one is safe from a pained up individual who can’t divide common and learned sense. The negative shit they taught or been feed they believe it absolutely normal to hand feel new comers. I guess this is the way they feel more powerful over a person and their disease. Never once does it occur to them they one puff, pinch, or snip from being a new comer themselves. I heard the same demise you plot for someone is your own grave to bury your clean time in. Those who claim he or she are walking on water. And I am not talking about when it rain. I guarantee you they probably couldn’t admit to the group, if they were to ever relapse. I bet they wouldn’t be able to do it with someone else’s tongue. I have been a participant of these foolish acts going on for sometime now. Through it all I just don’t use and won’t reframe myself to participating in there sit on the front row, don’t share until you got a year, cause if you want to know where to cop you will ask me, bullshit. Times have change grow with them or do like the dinosaurs become extinct. Oh and don’t ask me about copping. True be told, whom is to say one more might not be in your story today. There is no need Masking up trying to hide the fact you already got one. Just ask me how it was the last time I had it 94 days ago!!! 12-step guru’s, as they want to be recognized, basic text worms, or step makers, get a life and stop fucking with us new comers. We know what it feels like to get one more so the pain is fresher in our mind then yours. What you forgetting yours or are we taking away from when you use to be the most important person. You know what to do to get that status, so don’t try to chase us back out the fuckin door. The strong survive and the weak fade away. I know which one I am, which one you want to be?. I would rather be given the information freely. I am not trying to steal nothing, especially the 411. When I steal shit, I don’t normally keep it for long, so I am definitely not trying to steal nothing involving my recovery. Basically, the attitude of acceptance is not understood or followed with sincerity when the serenity prayer is recited. I don’t think God will give anyone the power to Change a new comers mind, to jump back in the pit with the wolves. Unless they made reservations and you was the perfect excuse. It don’t make the price of Gas and cirgarette right, so you play some part in that wrong piece. Double D’s watch how you choose whom to be baffling, and cunning with, because the disease, you know is tricky to. It might make you jump first and find the one you walk to the edge waiting for you trying to help you get out. See how it feels to have the fur torn off your ass. Then you can go back to what you was use suggest us new comers should do, since you did it your first time around sum-teen years ago, sit on the front row and don’t share your experience, strengths, and hope for a whole year. I know a lot of people think this is an old timer vs. newcomer situation; no this is not any Willie Lynch Shit. I would rather make hearts be mindful mine beat just like yours. And what you have I want it to and it is enough time to go around. No one is trying to steal your shine. Hell you suppose to mean welcome and not be like some big bad wolf and think we red riding hood. To bad they got that identity crisis going on, because they still fail to realize they are still sicken without a use of a drug. I am asking God, to help them to realize this is serious, not a game and if they have to address their own mailman about where to deliver their misery. Keep that shit out the rooms or better yet play them games with other double D members. Lets see what they come away. I guarantee you hurt feelings won’t be just the minimum. No I am not telling you how to help me, I would rather you try not to disguise your pain and force me to accept it is my story.