she told the police

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My best friend told the police I beat her. They came to confiscate my guns. I loved her. I took care of her when she fell in the parking lot of the East street coffee shop and broke her wrist.  I told them I had a BB gun.  They left papers which she wrote and signed that I threw her down the stairs.  She left in the Chevy  Cruize I had co-signed a loan on. It took three months , lots of money and a Good Lawyer to rectify the situation.  I loved her.

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Fuzzy Thinking

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Dialysis today so I have fuzzy thinking.  My pot is called Green Crack–it also causes fuzzy thinking.  Last night I cracked and got in line at Wendy’s at 11 pm.  Two burgers and large fry then home to bed.  Winter is a struggle.  My addictions take over.  Strangely, I am happy.

Depression go away

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No Depression go away

I need to see the light of day

Sadness can have a grip on me

My own thoughts can set me free

Time is short I can’t waste it

Live my life as I see fit

I won’t let things get me down

Stop my bad thoughts from hanging around

No depression go away

I need to see the light of day

 

This Beautiful Life

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We sat on a circle of rocks covered with moss a vivid green. The embers of our fire glowed red hot. High powered medicinal sour diesel OG kush lifted our spirits. A near nirvana moment. We celebrated the new season. Grateful for what we have. Strengthening our souls and minds for  whatever comes next.

Dark Country Roads

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In my high school we rural kids would go out to a dark country road and get wasted.  There was plenty of beer, usually I would have at least a twelve pack. We had weed, we had cocaine. When you couldn’t stand you could go sit in your car. Often a cheerleader, a quarterback or a big defensive tackle was right next to you. We were all bonding. There was a lot of love of living on that road.  Soon we would graduate, go our separate ways, not realizing those were our glory days.

Surviving Life

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The needles are turning my once perfect arm into a freakish, deformed, bumpy scar.  The constant increased blood flow to that part of my body is hurting blood flow to my brain and other important organs.  After a treatment my thinking is fuzzy.  Then a puff of the medicinal and I don’t care anymore until morning.

Enjoy Life

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Long ago I realized that I am two shots of cheap bourbon away from being happy. 

Or a bong hit of homegrown.

This has been a simple way of life for me.  I do not recommend this to anyone else.  I have been happier–the years from 1970 to 1979–but I was younger then. 

I will stop being bad when I die.

Enjoy life. Often.