Looking Into the Eyes of My Friend High On Crack
Yeah, yeah, i know. you can say every cliche 'til you're blue in the face, i've heard them all 1000 times. yet, after all the denials, accusations, name calling, finger pointing, set-ups, betrayals, double-crosses, okie-dokes, switcheroos and whatever else have you, when the dust has settled and it's all done and over with, you are the one left standing there. scheming, mouth running, finger stretched outward, ace up your sleeve, a false bottom in your words and empty eyes exposing your lack of a soul. limpid jet black pools of emptiness reflect my face as you return my gaze, reminding me of a sharks' eyes. machine like, in their infinite search for food. MORE is the only word a shark knows. watching you comb the floor picking up different shades of all things white. i don't remember dropping any and i didn't see you do it either. i feel like stomping your head in to take your out of your misery. just stomping and stomping until your head is completely mashed into the rug. i once let him live with me because his fat, ugly, mannish-looking, bitchy, lesbian whore of a girlfriend kicked him out of their house.you know the drill, they got high, started drinking, she started bitching, he started not taking it like he usually does because he's whacked out of his brain on crack. a poke, a prod, a push, a shove and two back hands later, she's on the phone with the cops. they show up , a fuck you get out of my house and a can of mace later and we're at the city lock-up for the night. waking up in the morning to go to court with stank breath, mace face and sleepy head. 250 dollars and an order of protection later, he's at my house asking for a couch to crash on for a week until he moves into an apartment up above some bar. sure, i let him, what are friends for, right? after a couple of days, he asks/tells me he is going to have his son over for visitation. i tell it to him like this: this is what i tell all my friends with kids, the bottom line is that they are your kids. i myself do not bring my children into this house due to the simpled fact that there is a LOT of drinking and drugging going on in here, however if you can keep an eye on your kid and are responsible for it (which everyone ends up being anyway),it is your choice. he did not take the hint and brought his kid down anyway ,nobody ever does. he began to have his kid over every night for a few hours while she did whatever the fuck big, fat, ugly, mannish-looking, bitchy, lesbian whores do. one day i came home, and there she was cleaning my house. cool, i thought she was making sure it was clean for the boy. the next day he told me, he was going to spend some time with his family. to be considerate i said i would spend the night at my girls' house to give them some privacy. the next day ,when i went to get my morning shot , all my dope was gone. no one knew what happened to it ,no one took it, no one ever does. but i know what happened, el fucking cudo del cracka, got all smoked up and wanted to do some dope to come down, mother fucker, after all i had done for him , this is how he is going to do me? yes! yes it was! and i deserved every bit of it when i let a few days on the couch become 150 bucks a week til he found a place. fucking door mat loser that i am. now she was living in the tiny apartment that seems to shrink every time her hulk of a frame enters a room. one night i came home to the distinct smell of burning crack cocaine, i told them that i didn't really want that in my house, do you have any more? i smoked a couple of hits throughout the night and went to bed. the next day,home boy was still there at 10;30 in the morning.he claimed that his boss didn't need him today, tuesday on a sunny day in the middle of may? he works in the masonry field, i begin to get suspicious and i can already hear my girlfriend telling me "i told you so,". a few days later, they get their deposit from the house they were living in back from the landlord. they pay me the two weeks rent they owe and i leave for work. when i get home, once again they have a pile of crack. this time i do not ask for any, i tell them to remember that my girl does not approve of the use of crack no matter how much heroin she does, and will not tolerate its' presence in the house. so they moved their little c party for two to their bedroom, where their baby was sleeping. i woke up at four in the morning to some noise or something and had to use the bathroom. as i returned to my room i could hear the voices of four or five people. the stench of crack smoke filled the kitchen. i pushed open the door to their bedroom and looked inside. my friend was holding a pillow over his baby's head to keep the smoke away from it. a few months earlier i had nailed all the windows in that room shut to keep intruders out of the house. there were three other people in the room besides them i knew two but i'd never seen the other one and with all of the musical equipment in the house i was not comfortable with him being in my house. i told them the party was over and it was time for everyone to leave, at which the unknown guest said he was a guest of my friends and didn't have to leave. i ignored his ignorance and suggested they put their son in my room in the baby bed so that he could have non-toxic air. that's ok, his mom says, we're almost done. i corrected her, no you are done and told the other crack heads that they didn't have to go home, they most likely weren't welcome there either, but they were no longer welcome in my home. the two that knew me politely picked up their shit and left, the other did not so i grabbed him by the neck and dragged him to the door and threw him out as he kicked and screamed and threatened and begged. after i locked the door he banged on it saying that his shit was still inside. i looked at my friend, who remains nameless because i don't speak to him and don't want to conjure his presence by typing it either, he looked in the direction of a pile of crack on the desk, probably a gram or so. i said it was rent for having a place to smoke and that if he continued to stand outside my door and scream i was gonna open the door and beat the shit out of him. when he didn't stop screaming i grabbed a bat and opened the door , it only took two swings to get my point acrossed and he ran away. i was so angry now, and wide awake. my friend and i smoked the crack. after it was gone he stared at the floor and mumbled one word answers to my conversation, his transformation into this thing disgusted me so i did a shot of dope and went to sleep. i woke to their baby crying at about 7:30 in the morning, i heard his mom shush him back to sleep, i myself knowing that people would start coming over for their morning fix, got up and did my morning routine. the baby continued to wake up every hour or so, she would shush it back to sleep. at 10:30, i told them i would cook the baby breakfast. what i saw afterwords sickened me. their baby, after being in that room, with no fresh air, while they smoked crack from before i got home from work at 9:30PM til 4AM, was retarded and lethargic. normally it was playing with the toys and getting in everyone's way trying to learn how to walk. today it just sat on the couch and stared into space like a zombie. it made me sick to my stomach that they had done this to their child. at 1:30 i cooked us some lunch, which the baby hardly ate any of. after, i told them they needed to get up to take care of their son. while i was at work the baby began vomiting, they said they thought the boy was sick from eating a cotton from my floor. when i came home i asked for the next week's rent, when they said they didn't have it, that they had smoked $1400 worth of crack in a little over a day, i began throwing their shit out of the house. which wasn't much anyway, i called the boy's grandmother and told he the situation and to come get they boy so that it would have a place to live. now we are no longer friends. it's been that way for over a year and probably won't ever change, seeing him drive by in his beat up car inspired this rant, which i dedicate to him.