"But we will give you a guitar and when you touch its strings bits of skin will fall of your fingers."

I'm used to reading rather strange books. But I never thought that a book so strange and poorly written, aside from fifty shades of Grey, but this book, Hooked on a junkie, tops the oddities of fifty shades. I started reading this book with an open mind. Never would I have imagined that the author would have sounded so un-educated and spacey. The author relives some of his drug-induced fantasies. But then the book kind of jumps forward for him to reflect in present tense and then include bits of interviews with drug dealers.

During one of these drug-induced charades the author, whose name I still do not know, is in some sort of fantasy where he is in some sort of hospital, i believe. the book is rather hard to keep up with. He asks for a guitar. But he is faces with an issue. They will give him one but each time he touches the strings bits of skin fall off his fingers. So now he's faced with the issue of should he play and lose his hands? or should he not play and keep his hands? He chose to play. Weather it was because he was tripping on LSD or because he actually had a true passion for music, we'll never know.

I like to think that the author's passion for music shown thru even in his LSD mindset. That it wasn't just the drugs making him play the guitar and seeing if his skin would actually fall off. He played and he played. And it came to a point where he and his audience knew that the skin was completely gone and there was just bone left. But then the bone started to dissolve as well. He just kept playing until the last possible note could be strummed out of the guitar. Maybe I'm reading to much into the text but I like to think that maybe just maybe the author, as terrible as he is, put this underlying message in the text. That people should get passionate about something, anything, as long as it's not LSD or Herion.





Buffer, Jitter. "Acid Flash." Flickr. Yahoo!, 09 Oct. 2005. Web. 07 Nov. 2012. <http://www.flickr.com/photos/93737034@N00/50858322/>.

Free Write- The most important thing in my life right now...

I hate to say that the most important thing in my life is a material thing but at this point it is. I think too often times, we measure our life in possessions and property, and people when really we should measure our life with something of a greater value: love, spirt, things like that.  However, I'm a selfish soon to be eighteen year old. Thus, it is something materialistic. However, it's not something like a car, money, my cell phone, clothes, shoes, or house. It's my record collection including my vintage record player that was handed down to me by my 100-year old great grandmother.  My collection was small. around 3 or 4 records, at first but as summer went on my collection slowly began to grow.

Buying records became sort of a tradition that took place every time i had a bad day or when i struggled with recovery. It became a tradition that every couple of weeks Kaine and I would go around town shopping for records.  By the end of summer my collection has grown to about 120 records including two vintage record players. The collection is still growing.

Now whenever i have a bad day instead of wallowing in self-pity i get out one of my favorite records and just relax and listen. If i didn't have my records i think my bad days would be much more destructive.