Sharing the pain of my youth, I was blessed to have found the bicycle, a factual vehicle of change and one that saved my life.

Once my drug addiction got its claws into me, I began swirling down the rabbit hole. Only by some slightly chanced maneuvers did I climb out.

Then, a personally fabricated system of living the right way began, continuing until the modern day.

Now my life takes on a larger meaning, one of helping others, which is factually my sixth great addiction, but one worth divulging in, I think.

FREE audio reading of chapter one from the book Daddy, Why Were You A Drug Addict?

Leaving the shitty life behind, all of it.

Twelve was the correct age to begin using and selling drugs, by Baltimore standards anyway. Rapidly the departure from responsible humanhood progressed…the sprawl of substance abuse ran full gamut. Earning first the illustrious title high school dropout, graduating to lowlife loser addict status, then overdosed junkie. The topper of zenith choices laid in my hands, I had to choose, stand to tower over my self-injurious abuse, or, meh…die in my shoes wherever I fall.

Loss sometimes has power over us, forever. Sometimes not.

At times I am lost.

Absorbing the pains of the world, myself included.

Why do we allow our hearts to open, only to be broken once more? Why? Why should we participate in such abusive nonsense? It’s so simple really…love is rare, love is fleeting, love matters.

The critical learned lessons of showing up to do the work no matter what, and the defiance of Master Yoda.

Sometimes we see no sun, sometimes we see the sun despite the clouds.

I am no worse than any scholar, I am no better than any murderer. Please remember that I love you.

40 years ago, the mountainbike saved my life.

The appreciativeness for the here and now, before the curtain falls.

This narrative journey charges a hefty sum.

Leading with intention, even when shit blows up in my face.

A four-page excerpt from my book coming out this week. Here I explain to my children why am I writing them this book, and why now?

How I, we, us, come up short.

Writing a book with Sarah Young...losing weeks of writing...starting over, and hybrid publishing.

Stuck? Depressed? Needing change? Wanting a new life? Well then, how?

Here I get real. Hyper-F'ing real and bare all. I hold back nothing.

How do we carry our hardship and if helping, what can we do or do not for others stuck in their own little hell? Hence forthcoming, my blog novella is not for the faint of heart, and sans the potty-mouth bowdlerization, just sayin’.