Note: A lot has happened since I wrote this post. I was angry and still confused about my situation. After years of reflection I felt it necessary to update this post with more relevant data.
I was hot, miserable, and cold all at once. I could feel my stomach churning the junk that filled up my stomach in the last few weeks. I had no home to go to and the rain was coming down very heavy. I was squatting in the same house that I had been squatting in for some time but the landlord of the property had come in and I had to ditch out. Now sitting in Hollenback park, my second home, I began to realize that my sickness was about to get worse and worse unless I did something soon.
At a time like this it was always hard for me to think. When your mind wraps itself around one thing, to avoid pain and torture, its hard to form a complete and coherent thought. I needed money and I needed it quick. If I didn’t get some heroin in me I would not only be homeless but dope sick… I could deal with one but one with the other was shear death upon me. The addict mind is fucked up…

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