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18 January 2001


Adrienne's Notebook

5th St. between Mission and Folsom. A found diary of a young heroin addict. It is at once eloquent and pathetic, hopeful and resigned. In reading it, I felt pity, disgust, anger, and, more than anything, sympathy for her and those whom I've known to be in a place much like this. Some excerpts:

28 april 2000 AD -- "There are the things i want ...

  1. to be respected as a human being, as an intellectual, as a writer, and as a female.
  2. a nice, safe, cheap place to live where i don't have to worry about the cops chasing me out or going thru my stuff, etc... a place that i can make into a home.
  3. to go home to my mom and grandparents more than once or twice a year.
  4. to have Tacoma back with me. :(
  5. all the belongings -- especially my computer, photo collection, and CD collection, that i had at Nancy's house in Nevada.
  6. a little peace of mind every now and then...."

31 june [sic] 00 -- "Wow Kevin, i'm so fucking out of my mind drunk right now, i'm having a blast considering a heroin high isn't nearly as out of control of something like this, and i love it, it's been too long."

25 november 2000 -- "... Just want to let you know that your little "stunt" on Haight St -- i.e., getting into a cab while i was @ Cala -- was the straw that broke the Camel's back. Drugs completely dominate your life and they always will, you haven't even made the tiniest effort to cut down on account of the fucking KID i've got in my stomach -- let alone make an effort to quite, ha ha, the day you fucking quit shooting drugs is the day Satan wears ice skates at work. You are not only totally unprepared to be a father but absolutely unwilling as well. You can't even give your girlfriend the care she needs -- and i am a fully functioning adult who can take care of myself -- so how can you be expected to take care of a wholly helpless little baby? it sickens me. this whole thing sickens me. i'm sick of this insanity"

musings of señor prod.

The Revolution will not be televised.

I sat down in an armchair in front of a keyboard and monitor. When I stood up I was sixty.

 

©2001 Timothy A. Clark -|-