One of the worst things about crack... or I guess about being an addict in general... is the amount of time you waste. 

• time trying to score
• time picking it up
• time doing it
• time sleeping it off

All of that is time that you don't get back.  Time that you could have spent with friends and loved ones.  Time that is just ... gone. 

Yeah, it's fun when you're doing it.  If it wasn't, people wouldn't do it.

But every time.

Ever. Single. Time.

When it's over, when I come down, I find myself wishing I hadn't wasted the time.

Or told the lies that are necessary to explain the time that is gone... but that is another entry.

Do you ever waste time and wish you could get it back?

But I don't.

Sold my class rings last night.  Got enough cash to pay the rent and get high.

And now I'm broke again.

*sigh*

Walking out of the pawn shop, I thought to myself... I'm probably going to regret this.

But really?  I haven't had even a twinge of guilt for doing so.  I never wanted the silly things to begin with.  I've worn each of them maybe a half dozen times in the last ten years.  All they do is collect dust in my closet.

Now they can collect dust in someone else's closet, and I can pay my bills.

I'm sure someday I will look back and wish that I had them.  But I don't really care right now.

One thing you will learn about me. I'm political. This blog isn't meant to be a platform for that, but it's so much a part of who I am you will hear about it. Particularly the fact that I'm a life-long supporter of Ron Paul, and more importantly - the reason I support him - THE EFFING CONSTITUTION. If all of our representatives - from the President down to the local dog catcher - would just follow it - then everything else would fall into place. But I digress.

Tonight was a weird night. I went over to a friend's house for dinner. Figured at some point we'd get some shit and spend a few hours getting high. That seems to be our normal pattern. His roommate was cooking bar-b-q, and he had some other friends and friends-of-friends over. Okay, sounds good.

Got there, and they were stoned. Yep, one of the friends-of-friends had some hydro, best weed I've had in a while. Though admittedly I haven't really been spending a lot of time looking. Anyway.

Turns out the one guy is the head of the South East region of FEMA. And his buddy is some kind of special op in the CIA. This, of course, would freak me out if it weren't for the fact that they were responsible for the hydro, and heavily partaking.

Okay, so I figure with these gov't types around we're not going to be trying to score any crack for a while, at least not until they leave. Oh man, was I ever wrong.

Conversation arises. Discussion is made as to how much we want and who to call. And then things take a turn for the weird.

CIA guy says he has a contact that is way better. And it won't cost us a dime.

We shouldn't do that street shit, he says. It has poison in it. Something called mycoplasm. But the stuff they have, before it hits the streets, it is clean. So he says.

WHAT. THE. EFF?

I've heard this shit before. Conspiracy crap, right? That the CIA is profiting from both sides of the drug war. Bring it in and sell it, then fight the so-called war on drugs. And something about the gov't putting stuff in it that will ultimately kill us. But because we're addicts no one will believe us if we try to warn people.

Okay, I can keep an open mind. Don't rule it out, Iran Contra does seem to suggest that at least at one time that is exactly what was going on. And the recent news about Operation Fast and Furious seems to suggest it may still be going on.

But to have a CIA guy supply you with what is probably the closest thing to 100% pure cocaine base? And all but tell you that they are responsible for what is on the streets, that is far from pure?

That. is. just. weird.

And it was the best shit I've ever had.