Up Up and I

(I wrote this blog 8/21/13)

Well, Kimo is gone.  I knew he wouldn’t last.  He’s a good guy.  He helped me a lot.  He gave me some nice shirts, orange shoes an orange and black watch.  I insisted on paying him for the watch.

Kimo is a gargoyle guardian of children.  He murders child molesters.  He spent about a ¼ century in prison.  That’s probably where the orange shoes came from. 

People who go to prison for sex crimes are targeted to die.  When I learned that, it scared me.  I could never harm another human being, especially a child.  However, every time I shot speed my clothes came off.  In the early days I was in this orgy scene with a group of prostitutes all the time.  She hit me and then….

Many times, there were men, women and transsexuals involved.  It was such a tweaked out orgy.  That drug messes me up so bad.  I can’t explain how I even feel about it now.  I can’t stand that person I became, but I still lust for that.  Not like I used to, but….

Attempting suicide proves to me that that person that exists with that evil brew flowing through my veins is not me.  That person was so messed up.  I never want to be that whacked out weirdo again.

I never wanted to be with that prostitute or her clan either.  The first time I shot up I was a crack head who was miserable.  I had already began losing things like the job of my dreams and financially security.  I thought those things were bad.  Although I was smoking crack all the time, I hated it.  All I could think about during my first hit of crack was my next hit of crack.

I was introduced to speed (crystal meth).  I had no money and was sitting on a street corner.  This prostitute was in her window and waved me up into her room.  I had no money, so I figured nothing sexual would happen.  Nor did I want it to.  She smoked some with me.  It got me high, but not much changed.  Then, she asked me if I ever shot it.  I hadn’t, but, I had thought about it.  I said, “yes.”  That changed EVERYTHING!

After that first hit, I knew I was hooked.  In the early days, I was a prostitutes prostitute.  I joined in on the “party”.  I was so ashamed of what I did but could not stop thinking about that rush and the following high and sex that lasted for days.  It was so twisted.

Months later, I went back to that same corner.  I started becoming a regular.  I didn’t say much when I called but, “Want to party?” .  95% of the time, the answer was “Come over.”  Many there were HIV+ and no protection existed.  I never wanted to do that, but I paid with sex to anyone.

This is a dark part of my history that I haven't revealed until now.  It’s important I reveal The Truth.  So much more occurred that I need people to believe.  What would seem like insanity in so many ways is actually reality.  I am certain of this.  At times, even I tried to deny it - so I could use again.  The voices told me of too many things that would happen in the future that actually happened.  So many coincidences occurred that proved something.   That something is something bigger in this Universe.  Ultimately, that something is God.  I know this.  So much so that I reveal The Truth about everything.  I've revealed most.  Maybe enough.  I believe it is not "too much".  It is not easy, but I believe it is necessary.

 

Eventually, once I found other ways of getting money, I wouldn’t stick around that scene.  I didn't want to.  I would get it and go out to the woods or private beach coves at Lands End or The Presidio. 

As usual, I would do a hit and my clothes would come off.  I would try to be secluded.  I did spend some times on nude beaches in the beginning.  The thing is, that is Federal property.  I started to think if I ever got caught shooting speed and being naked and doing lots of other things I shouldn’t be doing on Federal property, I’d be in prison – Federal prison.  I used to fear that.  Not enough to stop me.

After I would do sick, insane things, that’s when I started seeing things.  That’s when contrails created waves and boats lined up off shore to create geological experiments to create landslides, earthquakes and tsunamis.  That's when people I met began telling me of disasters before they happened.  I was at Lands End when Jack the Bean Stock offered to smoke crystal meth with me.  He said he had never been there but somehow knew his way around.  He walked us right to my private beach cove. 

 

At very rare times that happened only every 27 days during new moon spring tides the water was low enough to be reached by walking around the huge rocks on the beach during this extra low tide.  All other times, I had to climb down steep loose rock cliffs to reach it.  Just thinking about that climb to get to the  place where I would do my hit warms my heart - in bad way. 

 

"My" cove was very hard to find.  It was his "first time" there.  He led us right to it at this rare low tide that allowed this old man and I to reach it.  He had been in prison for 50 years.  He told me dozens of times how he, "just had to get out of New Orleans."  He made a huge impression on me.  I had to get away from him.  When I got home, I told Susan about this guy and how he, "just had to get out of New Orleans."   I knew there was something to it all.

 

A week later, I was using again.  Two people walked up to me at Ocean Beach and said, "New Orleans is being devastated by  a hurricane" and then walked away. I was getting a horrible MRSA infection.   I tried to walk home, but it swelled to a size of a softball.  I only made it to Baker Beach, right next to "my" private cove.  I cut a can in half with my knife and filled it with water.  I made a fire and boiled the water.  I put my knife in the boiling water and tried to cut my softball size infection open to drain it.  It wasn't ready to be drained yet.  It was still in the "sponge" stage, not the "balloon" stage.  I learned these cycle terms from doctors over the years.

 

I had to call Susan in the morning and begged her to pick me up.  I ended up in urgent care.  I couldn't help but to scream when they cut it open.  It was one of the most painful things I have ever experienced. 

 

I had to go back everyday to get an antibiotic shot in my rear end.   I also had to drain it all the time.  It was incredibly painful.  Everything about it was painful.  I was laid up on the couch for weeks.  I watched CNN coverage of how Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans.  I asked Susan, "Do you remember where I said that Jack the Bean Stock kept telling me he had to get out of?" She knew.

 

As life threatening possibilities usually did for me, it cleaned my up for about 4 months.  It seems I was always given warnings before my devastating incidents would occur.  All's I have ever had to do was stay clean.

 

To me, it was the New World Order.  They were doing this to reduce the worlds population. 

Then, I realized over time it wasn’t people, it was something bigger.  It was evil that I was seeing out there.  Then, I knew, “If evil exists, God exists!” 

 

A friend once told me that it was New Orlean's voodoo ways and sexual misconduct that brought it on.  Just like the Tsunami that killed hundreds of thousands was brought on by the wrong doings of those countries. "As the gap between the rich and poor grows wider, destitute Asians are increasingly selling their most valuable property: their children" wrote Time Magazine.  Does the world need people like Kimo?  It's all way to much for me to comprehend.

 

My friend said the Good people of those devastated areas would be okay when the died because the would end up in a Good place when they died.  I'm not explaining it very well. 

 

Knowing there was a God still never kept me clean, which is why I was really heading down a dark path.  Once God’s existence is factual to someone, one is supposed to do Godly things.  God does love addicts though.  God has given me so many chances.

The first time I came to this program for detox, so many clients let me know in so many words they knew I was shooting up, getting naked and doing other embarrassing things up in the park right across the street from Wally World – Buena Vista Park.  I shot up in the self cleaning bathroom a few blocks away in Golden Gate Park and then headed to Buena Vista Park.  It is a lot more secluded and has a lot more places to hide.  Golden Gate Park is huge, but on the end where the bathroom I used it is very open.  It was the closest secluded place to my old neighborhood. My old neighborhood is all city.  Even the parks are small.

I also learned from my first roommate that sex addicts usually get killed in prison.  This scared me, but not enough to stop being a freak.  Kimo always told me “He had my back.”  And that, “My safety came first” to him.  I believed him, but I sure didn’t want him hurting anyone for me.

People change.  I do not judge.  I never hurt anyone.  Well, those who saw me doing things I used to do may have been a little scarred, I would never touch someone without their desire.  I hurt those who loved me by being so absent from the real world too.  I'm sorry.

People change.  Kimo always went to my appointments with me before I got my “own strength”.  In the early days of being here, getting a “buddy” was a crap shoot!  This place is full of difficult people – obviously.

Many who come off the streets and out of the pen still have that tough mentality.  Thank God I’ve never been in the pen, but I was on the street a lot.  I didn’t like to be.  In my homeless days, eating and panhandling required I be on the street.  I also slept on the street.  When using, I was very isolated most of the time, but buying drugs required that I be on the street sometimes.

After a while, I had people that I could go up into their place and buy it.  Then I would go to some secluded beach cove only reachable by a treacherous climb.  Or, I’d go to a cave or very thick brush with a whole to climb into an opening.  I just now got a tiny rush in my heart just thinking about places during those days.

I will miss Kimo.  I got many things from him to remember him by.  The orange shoes.  The watch I’m wearing.  I love that they match my Bengal’s outfits, but everyone asks me if I got them in jail.  “Nope, Kimo.”

He also gave me some nice shirts and shorts.  I insisted on buying the watch.  It always troubled him when I tried to pay him.  He said, “They are just material things bro.”

Last week, I knew his days were numbered.  I sense these things and see them coming.  He has my number.  I hope he calls.  Like many who leave rehab programs, I may never here from him again. I hope the takes care of himself and doesn't go down the wrong path. 

 

I tried not to judge him for his murders.   He believed he was helping that little girl.  Apparently she and her mother agreed.  They picked him up from prison. I'm sure what happened to the little girl really affected her life.  She is now a counselor.  Kimo has gargoyle tattoos and calls himself the gargoyle protector of children.  I still have trouble understanding, but that man sure was good to me.  I hope he lives a good life.  Take care Kimo.  Thank you for helping me.

 

 

 

 (10/23/13 - I couldn't find the lyrics to this one.  Once I found it, I felt this song and singer was appropriate.  I usually have a song come to mind when writing a blog.  Or, a song inspires me to write.  Writing on a notebook with little access to music and a computer, my writing just came from what was going on around me back then.  Sometimes songs just fit my blogs.  Rarely, I have to search for something.  I had to search for this one.  I'd never heard it or over her before, but it seems to fit.)