The couple I find myself living with now are pretty close to perfect, almost in a Stepford wives way. They are forgiving, patient, understanding and best of all, they don’t yell and fight.

I feel bad of course for being me, and doing secret drugs all the while becoming more paranoid that I’m not very stealth at all, but they’re waiting for the right time to bring it up, and not just kick me out.

It’s a biggie. There are lines people create of their personal acceptance, understanding and approvals . Drugs, crime, fetishes. Everybody had a point where they are no longer comfortable. Assumptions outweigh trust.

I’m scared, because it’s been an odd…

Too many thoughts. I don’t like writing about the bad stories. I can tell my story quite dark but I can tell it positively too. I’m loving life more than I have on my life, but technically I’ve been high on amphetamines for the better part of 4 years.

I’ve let it become my new nirm and from where I sit, at the front of my universe, it’s all pretty good. From anywhere else, it could be bad. I look like a homeless meth bum with no teeth and an unkept beard and hair as long as Willie Nelsons.

I stopped caring and its great. I don’t listen to the news about Trump or Pierre. I don’t watch the daily Show or listen to Stern mornings. I don’t get my news anywhere and I’m enjoying my work. So much do, I almost never charge and I’m very close to bankrupt.

Most of my clients have politely run away sensing the extreme hassles that the future holds when I suddenly due in the next 10 years

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