its true its been a while, too long. I looked up this blog the other night with a client at work. i guess the bain of my exsistence with writting is that i do it, i love it and then i dont think its good enough. With work i guess i went threw a patch where to write about it was too much, the burn out the rested onmy shoulders only gave me more pain when i sat at 4am trying to hash out the night. it ceased to help and only furthered my thoughts about working there, only fuirthered my insomnia, only clouded my dreams more. The other night i dreamt i found a new amazing apartment, vast and with high ceiling, it was full of antiques and felt lived in a nd cozy, just withint the living room i glaced to a long bright hallway, attached to my new apartment was the injection room of the safe injection site. There it was, trickling over amoangst the boxes i wsh to unpack wihere my clients, picking htrew stuff and wanting my attention. i found refuge in a hole inthe wall, a latch door opened to someone elses house in the ceilig, it opened right up to the middle of a dounut shaped couch. The attic dwelling was full of prostitutes and drug dealers. I ended up having breakfast with them. Thus is life right. Ha. SInce the last whilem ihave taken a few time outs from work. I have shed some sweat blood and defiuantly tears for that place. I worked threw watching someone become homelss and take a turn for the worse, and yes it can get way worse from just living there to not having a home. My client started to give up onhimslef completly, having to walk away at the end of the night, him crouched down having a smoke, shameful fro yellignat us, embarresed for his situation, mad at the world, hopeless. I went threw the motions of not being able to find any help, emialsmapt , no house, no dice. Finally he goty housubng threw our hotels and now ive watched him coime back tohimself, with shreds of intigirty , the bareminum of confidence withknowing that your shoes wont get stolen when yoyu go to sleep. I have had lots of ods. one that stands out to me. one that got me someome where and may deserve more writting at soem points. I went away, i fell in love, i had my first boxing match, i swore that iwoukd stop working nights, i promised to look for more work. i still show up and feel that something within me is attached to that place, those people, the moments that strike me as being so raw and precious that i rarely experience anwhere else. Am i willing to trade that in for a day life. i dont know. im trying to just do that foot work and stay out of the results. im trying to take care of myself so that i can be the best that i can to the people i love. All the while look forward. The other night i found a 3 month chip from AA at the nurses stattion in the injection room. Oneof the nurses was like " whats that? a chocolate coin?" inside i say to myself..that my dear is the only thing that seperates me from the people that walk threw my door. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. Maybe i wont forget for another day.
My girl, the one that gave me my 6 year coin is back in rehab...safe ..she sounds amazing..im so here for her..one more time..maybe this is the time..because one of the times, if there will be a time , has to be a time..so why no this time. make sense?