Keystone center.

This was a drug rehab and mental institution. Drugs and alcohol, they were awfully surprised I came in and pissed clean. Drugs and booze kept me from losing my sanity, I didn’t need them to stay sane. I think that was the major difference about my use of them. They were tools in a box, not exactly dominating my life but it was the only thing that could quiet the freight train in my head at the end of the day. I honestly to this day don’t know what lead me to Jeannie, or why I even thought of her. Why she remembered em so well and why she went out of her way to help me. But I will never forget her for it. The first woman that wanted to actually help me, not dump me somewhere to get my head rewired like my mother was so fond of doing. She could have solved it with a hug.

School kicked up and I was in class again, not much to do. I was placed in the courage group, for the younger teens. Headmaster of the place was Gilbert, Very well respected guy. He said funny shit like you make my asshole shed tears, or chop wood, or play checkers… Odd comments. I spent most of the time in the sauna. Food was excellent, most of the kids hated me. Jay and me got along, I miss him. A lot of textbook work and filling in blanks on an addiction I just couldn’t relate to very much. I was surrounded by it no doubt, hell I didn’t even

know what a social drinker was until I made it to this place. People really have one drink? People leave drinks ? People don’t do any drugs? any? bullshit. But well, it was true. So I learned I was out of control, no shit. Jeannie even brought me a carton of cigarettes and visited me twice, what a doll.

Nobody else came, My father called to let me know the TV got stolen, Right. First thing he sold for drugs I’m sure. I don’t know he soon got busted for the mingo foundry heist thanks to Jill getting pissed and ratting him out to the cops as usual, and I was out clean. Was coming out to a new world, and a new familiar place in Boyertown. Land of pussy’s and country boys. But hey, Some hot looking Girls. I needed to decide something in here. Up to now I had been going down the toilet and really didn’t give a shit. But I was in that court, I could have went down there for good so easy. Someone wants me out for a reason, I have a purpose. I have to have one. Some kind of fate got me this far.

I heard someone say, Love can tame the savage beast. In all my years, I knew and embraced every emotion spawned from the dark. I knew them all like my own skin. I never knew of love. I dreamed of it as a child, Closest I came was Heather and that was a flat out bust. But with Char, it was there. Something about her, or something that was a part of her. It moved me to the feeling. I just didn’t know what it was. But that was it, that was my way out. I needed to find a female counterpart to balance my chaos. To tame the beast. A yang to my yin perhaps. Since I thought of myself as human garbage with a dash of chaos, lord of my own kingdom of shit, better to reign in hell then serve in heaven I suppose. I would need to find something pure, something loyal, something I could trust. Not to change me around mind you, just to smooth out my torment inside. Have a purpose in this world other than destroying it. Purpose. That why am I here that seemed to be my ever driving force.

3 things happened in here that would change my life forever. More than I ever realized. It all happened towards the end of my stay. The first was a therapy session. We were all seated and handed these tablets, we were told to write down the worst thing someone could do to us. At the time, it was someone having sex in my bed. God that happened a lot. Had to wash the sheets, fn rubbers all over. Just foul. House parties, wtf can you do you know? So I write it down and I swap my paper with jay under direction from the group leader. Now I had to pretend Jay was my best friend and convince me to forgive him. Everyone else got this right, I did not. I could not forgive this. He begged me in every way he could for an hour, it was fuck you get out of life. He made the infamous book of fuck you I had in my head. In that book you got the fuck out of my life and never came back. Plenty full of names, rules to live by, and things I would never do or do again. That book avoided pain. It was the my dodge of do’s and don’ts to avoid pain.

I was pulled out of group and Gilbert started to talk to me. He said that group was specifically set up to deal with me. He said they were discharging me. He said there was nothing more that he could do for me. The guy next to him said I would stay sober for a year, I said fuck you I’ll see you in ten years if you ain’t dead asshole. They were right about one thing. It would be my downfall to age 40.1 could not forgive. Vincent wouldn’t allow it. Vengeance had to be exacted. Just the mode of holding on to all that hate would be enough fuel to drive Vincent to do anything. Even kill. I needed that. Without it I am just the frail fragile boy that just needs love. Logic told me that I was impossible to love so there had to be Vincent, and I was enslaved to his will.

After I said what I said Gilbert said you know what? Tonight you are going to die. So he killed me. I was placed as a corpse in grief group. Once a month on a friday night, late. The entire facility adults and teens had the option to go to grief group and grieve for loved ones that died in their addiction on whenever but they never had the chance to or never went to their funeral. I was laid down on a bench, a female I didn’t know was laid opposite on the other side. We were like in coffins side by side but we had divides. I was told to not move, and I didn’t. They drug a sheet over me entirely. I could make out shapes and breathe but I could not see. The lights were turned off, Gilbert had some very sad music on, Some Black woman weeping and wailing and singing. I never heard anything like it, it almost sounded Creole, maybe voodoo.

Gilbert was preaching and speaking, people came in. It felt like the whole place was there, maybe 500. Then the tears, people putting hands and faces on my body, crying. Just crying hysterically. The whole room of 500 people wailing like nothing I ever heard. I didn’t cry, I became a stone. I can still hear the screams. Hours, I was there for hours. I suppose he was trying to show me what it be like if I left this world. What it really did was show me how nothing I really was. No one would do this for me, no one would ever cry like this for me. No one wanted me. I was a fuck up from conception. A square peg trying to fit through a round hole. Anything I consumed, every step I took, I felt like a thief. Like I was stealing someone else’s destiny. Everything I got involved with turned to shit. Char, Kat, I failed them both. Still, my world was so small. There was so much more to see. Did I really cover all my bases here? Maybe I was just on the wrong path. Hope. Still Hoping. The silliness of me you know, The idea of being accepted somewhere. Through all my faults, all my scars, all my damage, my love, my heart, my mind, my body. Getting out more than I put in. To be loved for strength, intelligence, weakness, even Vincent. Quite a tall order.

Whenever it came to all of the above though, I have noticed in retrospect, the first thing I would always sacrifice is the inner bricked up me. He just seemed so fragile, so useless. Never produced anything. He could not be loved. What I still didn’t understand is he was stronger than all of it. He held hope like a football player holding a ball for dear life while players would try and punch it out his hands. He curled up in a ball and took every shot, always protecting his heart. He was fighting to come out, he was fighting to love, he was fighting for it. He always believed there was a chance I could be happy. He always took the chance.

The third, well I quit. Drugs, Booze, all of it. Wouldn’t even take an aspirin. Not sure if I did it because of that asshole, or maybe I felt it was requirement to do things differently and the last thing I wanted was to end up like my dad. Alone Unloved, Dying, with a broken heart. Another member of my family that had so much potential and ended up a waste of life. I no longer wanted my mind altered, I wanted to live life on life’s terms or not at all. So out I went, on to a new life, and a new directive. I would no longer walk this world alone and unloved. She was out there, and I would find her. Or die trying.

Warminster psychiatric wing 7th floor.

Odd time to be here. I was brought up by ambulance and my mother’s boyfriend Dana. I was admitted for severe depression and suicidal thoughts but the whole way up something in me didn’t give a shit about getting better. I started to see it as a place to just cool out, reset, slow down a little. The reality was I didn’t want to get better, I liked being crazy. It kept people away. But now I am going to a place full of crazy people so Vincent thought the best course of action is to get closer to them..

I walked in that place with Dana and myself laughing almost hysterically like I was checking in a hotel. The shrinks were thrown for a loop. I drew a lot of attention from the patients but that’s what I wanted. I learned from my dad, how to work a room. Draw attention, adoration, and distance, all at the same time.

We didn’t have a cafeteria like Eugenia and spent all day locked in the ward. The ward had a quiet room by the nurse station where they restrained you if you got out of hand. The adult side we couldn’t get close to if we tried.

Meals were brought in and we had a menu every day and a few choices. Hospital food really sucked so every day lunch and dinner for a month was a cheeseburger and fries. Beat the shit out of my former diet of drugs, booze, pussy, and the occasional tombstone pizza I had at nanny’s.

Smoking was tough we were lead out by orderlies to the other side of the parking lot to smoke. So we’d go out 3 times a day and chain smoke 3 and go back. Also a good reason to stay in line. You fucked up you missed your outing.

They had a level system, higher the level the better the privileges. Mom and Dana showed up once or twice with a grocery bag full of shit. Beef jerky chips, whatever. We couldn’t even have anything caffeinated until we progressed. Bedtimes were also affected by this.

So, time goes by. Never really participated in workshops but they strung me out on all kinds of meds. Some worked some didn’t. Side effects were worse than the drugs half the time. But I had been with enough shrinks to know the game. I played them. Talked shit about anything to stay longer. Some of it was true some of it wasn’t.

I’d give them just enough to scribble down, then lock up. Why? I had other interests. Oh my god, Charlotte and Katrina. They even stayed in the room next to mine, we’d tap to each other in the night and talk to each other through the bathroom wall.

This is when I first began to notice, I mean really notice how drastic in contrast my dual sides were. Two totally different girls, looks, sexuality and personality. I was heavily attracted to both of them.

Charlotte was like a fawn, she was pale, petite, shoulder length reddish hair. Shy, afraid, sad. I never knew exactly why she is there. She did tell me once when we going down an elevator to go outside she was raped in one. I noticed her shaking like a leaf.

I don’t know how I knew to look, she was behind me. But I felt fear. Like I hadn’t felt in a long time. I felt it on my back. I just held her hand and she stopped shaking. But I still felt it. It was stronger inside of me. I handled it fine though, I guess I could take a bit of a pounding inside after all I went through.

Shook it off eventually, walked on. Not sure where it went until years later, but it went in my walls. Stuffed down in memory and emotional force. As time would go by, at certain outlets it would get released through Vincent. But at this time it was unknown, and uncontrolled.

Char and me always took the elevator, always stood close, always say close, and I always held her hand whenever I could. I remember one time she came back from a therapy session just depressed, wrecked. I could feel it, I could see it. I held her tight to me, till the ordered broke us up. Washing over me was a misery all to familiar. It was so strong my happy guy act dropped. I fell where I was, just couldn’t stand anymore. Stayed there for hours. At one point someone lifted my head. It was char, she was smiling and laughing hysterically. I don’t remember anything but the way she looked at me and said I don’t know what you did, but thank you.

I really didn’t know what I did either. They word I related to at the time was empath. I was someone that could not only feel emotions around me from people. I could absorb them. I could actually take the pain. What was better was I thought I was destroying it, but I wasn’t. I was saving it for the right time, as I said I didn’t even know that yet.

Enter Katrina. She did. Our first chat was her just staring at me with a wicked smile. Sinful, sexy, wicked. She was like desire on steroids. Something even I knew was bad for me, but holy shit I wanted it. Like a moth to a flame in the classic sense. Long Blonde hair, blue eyes that saw right through you. Built like a brick shithouse as my dad used to say.

I remember two occasions vividly. The first time we talked we didn’t really, just stared and I asked how longer was she going to pretend that we don’t know what

we are. She said and what would that be. I really didn’t feel myself talking at this point, but I knew my lips were moving. I said, or more like Vincent said, we both walk in the dark my dear, and we both dance with our demons.

Never was it spoken again .The second occasion was Kat and me in the little kitchen they had, they locked everybody down where they were because a patient was coming in restrained. She fed me some banana bread she made. I don’t know if it was the combination of her fingers and the bread or just the bread but it was an extremely erotic experience. My first. Quite possibly my first kink. A regular action taken and absorbed on both ends causing sexual arousal and/or intimacy. A lot of element factors were in that moment.

Some other notations of people were my roommates. There was Juan the anorexic, and Brian the runner. Brian attempted suicide while he was living at a kids home in Philadelphia, then he decided to run in the parking lot to who knows where, may have been to some drugs to but he came back eventually. Thankfully I was never restrained here, they were really nasty about it. They have 8 points which was the worst allowed by law in my state. Believe me you couldn’t scratch your nose.

I was in here when school was out, so thankfully none of that shit. However, There was a different sort of problem. I didn’t have my shit as sharp as I used to, I would have seen this coming. The staff were monitoring me, seriously monitoring me. Conferring with each other closely they figured me out. I mean they had me cold. They had plans to send me to eastern state, and this was a roach motel, you can check in but you can’t check out. The lunatics of society were placed here. Sociopaths, lunatics, people to far gone to come back. They were just doped and monitored. They presented the treatment plan and asked me to volunteer, I refused. Now it goes to a judge to commit me. The reality set in and I was terrified.

I was appointed a lawyer. My mother, her boyfriend Dana, and above all the craziest shit my dad is there too. My dad and mom? in the same car? Holy shit. Never in a million years did I ever think that would happen. The lawyer said it’s grim. In all his years doing this he never had anyone go home. So we walk in a conference room. There a judge and the entire staff there just about. All with folders and notepads. The tape recorder starts and we begin. The judge lets the staff start talking. Talk they did, hours and hours of my psyche, telling them that if I was not closely monitored I was like a time bomb waiting to go off and take everyone with me. They talked about my split personality disorder, bi polar, manic, Pathological manipulator, the works. They talked so much about what I was capable of as far as damage to myself and the world if I was let out they ran out of tape.

My lawyer never had a chance to say a word, or me. But like some divine intention I still do not understand, The judge said, well it sounds like you could do this all night but the bottom line is, has he been a threat to himself or society at any point during his stay? They tried to argue the fact that that was specifically my M.O. to manipulate environments I knew better, well in all honesty I sure did. I saw what happened to people that fucked up, they were restrained, wacked up with Thorazine for weeks, then sent to Einstein. Some came back, some didn’t. Either way it was a one way ticket to the nuthouse for the mentally and criminally insane. You did not want to be there, It looks like the scene in 12 monkeys. The judge shut them up and asked again, they all hung their heads and said no, he hasn’t. The gavel smacked and I heard discharge him, next case.

I couldn’t believe it. I was out. I came in kissed Charlotte hugged Katrina packed up and hauled ass. I thought I was a goner, I had accepted I belonged there. I came to the realization I don’t belong in the world. Someone higher up than me though different I suppose. But what was I meant for? who would want this mess? What the fuck did I want? no clue but when i was released, I didn’t want this. I would rather burn out then rust away in a cage. At least I did then.

Age 17 It’s better to burn out, then it is to rust

My mother couldn’t stand me anymore, I really didn’t like her anymore. Trying to control me on anything I wanted to do or was not allowed to do was futile at this point. I reconnected with my grandparents. I got a ride out to see them and walked in like nothing ever happened. Oh my god the love. It was like sun on my face, it was like warmth I could feel. I was home. I was finally home. We sat and we talked for hours, about everything. About how sorry I was I couldn’t contact them and I missed them so much. Here in the middle of it all, in walks my dad.

We all sat and talked, we laughed, I cried. I needed no defenses here, I didn’t need to be anyone but myself, swearing, smoking, drinking, drugging, depressed, battered, war torn almost. I felt like I was a soldier coming home from a long war. It was going to be ok. I knew it was. How could all this bad just keep on going? It was just a test, a test to see if I could handle what was to come. I felt I passed.

Me and dad first stayed at his girlfriend Jill’s place. The name for her around town was 2 dollar Jill, because she’d blow anybody for 2 dollars. Dad didn’t care she was a hooker, he even pimped her out, just said bring me back beer. Before you know it, it was bring back beer and a pack of smokes for my son… He drank a lot. God I could see him kill a case of bush pounders in one day. I always asked why he drank so much. He always had a reason. Main one he was celebrating this disability check he was fighting for 7 years. I didn’t think he’d get it. The cocaine. He used to shoot up but he never did around me, he usually went in the bathroom. But it was all over the place.

He had hepatitis c, sclerosis of the liver, and a bad bag or a hot dose as they call it wiped out most of his liver to begin with. He was dying, still partying, didn’t care. His words were always fuck it I’m dying anyway. Before Jill’s he stayed at the Royersford hotel with my uncle ter. He used to tell me about his escapades and parties but one story in particular I will never forget.

EZ mouse R.I.P.

Well the place of course was infested with roaches but the story goes he had a mouse he made friends with, My uncle ter named it EZ. They used to feed it etc… it was there only source of entertainment, they didn’t even have a T.V. if they did they sold it for drugs. Well this drug den hell whole catches fire and burns to the ground. The neighborhood was so happy they came out of their houses and surrounded the building yelling BURN BABY BURN! The cops might as well set up an office in there they were in and out so much. Well Dad and uncle ter were outside, drunker than fuck all in their underwear and dad said shit what about EZ? Uncle ter’s reply was priceless… Well, EZ come EZ go. and that was the way of it.

Understand I could go on for years about what happened in this short span of a year, it was so jammed packed and so fast. But I will do my best.

His Big Mama sat on his face finally. Which activated my Big mama. Month after month after month since Jill’s place it was nothing but the celebration of big mama. Nobody believed it but her couldn’t shut up about it. Night after night. Big Mama’s comin! she gonna sit on my face!… Well never underestimate the will of an Eagle, it fell. I received a back check for 5 grand, supposedly according to my Dad it was 10 and my mother kept 5. Wouldn’t fucking surprise me but I never knew, I never really pushed the issue. I had my Dad we had a place I was to go

back to west mont a freshman. I also bought an 84 camaro. lol Didn’t even have a drivers license. But me and dad had a blast driving in it. We’d steal license plates at night from any car in the apartment parking lot and go everywhere. He taught me how to drive, drunk and sober.

About a year before an infamous facility known as penhurst closed due to unfit conditions. This place is notoriously haunted and well guarded by government MP personnel. Some of the more sane types (if you want to call them that) were released on the streets with a monthly check. Jill was one of those people. She used to wash her dishes in the bathtub, while she was taking a bath. Trust me when I lived there, I fucking used plastic… I only ate take out and shit out of cans. When I felt like a decent meal, went to nanny’s. She always had some food waiting, a hot shower and loads of love. Sometimes I would go in the basement workshop and tinker around. Work with wood, fix shit I found on the street trash, I had a good brain for making shit work. I also made various shivs for protection.

My Dad asked me one day why I always carried a knife and told him about my stepfather. Next thing I know were in Pottstown and he goes into vambuskirks gun shop and buys me a shotgun, Harrington and Richard’s 12 gauge single shot. He handed it to me with a box of shells and said if that mother fucker comes near you again you point this at him and pull the trigger. My first gun. Let me tell you I shot the shit out of some clay pigeons with that bastard. Loved that gun. Best part was, it was from my Dad. He was the toughest son of a bitch I ever seen, had no fear of anyone or anything. Way too smart for his own good. He could lie to anyone about anything, he used people like chess pieces, he’d swindle you and you’d thank him for it.

He loved my mother, God he did. Still years later he would never stop loving her. Whenever I saw that look in his eye, and the well of tears. I never had to ask. It was the only thing that broke him. He loved her to death, and no matter what he never let anyone see that part of him but me. I am grateful to know it of him.

More grateful now then I ever was, for I would need to recognize this later, see it in myself, and fight to defeat it.

Then there was his evil. His rage. It was uncontrolled it was raw, it was deadly. I remember one night he got so mad at Jill he grabbed my loaded shotgun and yanked back the hammer and told her he was going to blow her fucking head off. All I remember doing was seeing my father go away forever and screaming dad don’t its loaded please dad don’t and i lunged to grab the thing. In my heart I believe if I wouldn’t have been there, he would have killed her. She goes storming out the apartment and maybe 3 hours later I am sleeping on the floor. The cops storm the place, take my shotgun and go after my dad brushing his teeth in the bathroom, always the joke he holds his brush with his hands in the air and says calm down guys it ain’t loaded. He got out on bail and the charges were dropped.

Think I was going to testify? yah fucking right.

Then there was the drugs. His addiction to I.V. cocaine was unlike anything I ever seen before. It sent him into abusive rages, the beer was bad enough when he got to drunk, but the cocaine was never a point of being happy. It was always just madness. Fuck the world because the world fucked him. Sound familiar? Vincent loved him. I adored him. But sometimes, I had to save him too. One night we were in jill’s place and he went out for a few hours with a guy named Brian. He came home and went right to the bathroom like he always did, except this time he didn’t come out. I knocked once after an hour he said he was ok, I knocked again another half hour after that, again, he said Jesus he was taking a shit be out in a minute, the end of the second hour, he didn’t answer. I opened the door thinking he passed out and he was standing there looking in the mirror, holding the sink like he was ripping it out of the wall, his eyes were too wide open, his mouth reminded me of what a fish does when it’s out of water. He was overdosing. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t call anybody, above all and always no cops. Never. Not for any fucking thing. I didn’t know what to do I was so small, bout 120 pounds, Dad was almost 300.

  1. lifted him up screaming with all I had, must have had the adrenaline going. I dropped him on the bed and laid him on his back, I was crying, I put my hand on his heart and was begging him not to die. Don’t leave me. I was trying to get him to talk or respond. Sometimes he did sometimes he didn’t. About 20 or 30 minutes later he said I’ll be ok, I’m fine. I called Brian, I told if I ever saw him near my father again I’d kill him. I didn’t care who he was or his friends were or how fucking big he was. Take something from me I love, I cherish I adore. Watch what comes next mother fucker. One thing I learned from Dad, if you ain’t got nothing, you got nothing to lose. Believe me, my life was nothing. He lived, and I died. I placed the last brick on anything I had inside, and just kept adding more.

So we moved in together with a shit ton of money and kept hustling. We were affectionately deemed by the neighbors “The night People”. I had 5 grand with another 600 coming in a month, a car, no bills and no ties to anything, even my morals. So before I go into my stay, allow me to introduce you to the local wildlife, friends and family.

My grandpa Bruce: The most patient, most intelligent, most stubborn man I ever met. God I loved him. He’d live on his couch until I came over, then he would always come in the dining room, sit down and talk. Anything from friends and long dead family, things he done over his life, likes and dislikes, and of course the smart assed witticism that was razor sharp. He could fix anything, even tell you how. Had a basement workshop full of all you’d ever need for a house or car. Screws, nails glue, fuck he loved harbor freight, lots of tools. My uncle had a shop smith down there. Lots of wood to tinker around with, I spent days on end down there to get away from the bullshit and relax.

My Nanny: Nothing much to say on her other than the most loving, caring woman I ever seen. She loved us all. Not to bright but lots of funny stories about her mom. Lots of great meals lots of home cooking, love in everything she does. She didn’t mind yelling or complaining though. Sometimes you laughed, sometimes you didn’t. A lot of times bruce would get yelled at so bad he’d just go outside and sit on the porch. Never yelled back, I hardly ever seen him lose his cool. It would turn out the love of two people would not only carry me through the hardest of times, it showed me what love really could be.

My Uncle ter: A jolly old soul and the oldest brother in the family of 3 boys.

Heavy drinker for sure, but not a drug addict. When he got too loaded he would preach, a lot. Never a violent man, always a nice guy. Whenever my dad and ter went anywhere or was planning to, My dad had a million D.U.I. ‘s so they burned his license. It start with dad of course, yah we’ll go after I finish this beer. Well ter would crack one, dad would drink his and get another one, then ter would drink his and get another one, it go on and on till the place closed or they were too drunk to drive.

My Uncle Ran: I never seen him much except when we managed to get to his house for a drinking party. He would throw them pretty regular, we had great drunk games like shoot a firearm, or jump off a 3 story cliff (yes we did). Uncle Ran and my dad were a lot closer, they traded punches, girlfriends, hell my uncle ran was with my mom before my dad was. They fought over her. Guess dad won.

Bobby Altone: Here was a guy that lived with the ugliest woman in town, and while she’s paying his bills he’s out humping anything and everything with 2 legs, including the chicks I knew from high school. He drove an el camino, and was well liked by naive girls. He was my closest running partner, probably the smartest out of the crew. He knew how to hustle.

Toothless Larry: Friend of Altone’s, we used to get him drunk and feed him peanuts, always good for a laugh. Good foot soldier, he was a follower. Followed anybody that had booze drugs or money.

  • dollar Jill: Back then a pack of Newport was a buck ninety. So basically she’d do her thing for a pack of smokes. My dad loved pimping her, using her, taking her money. She had 3 brothers that would come over do drugs rob us blind. They’d even steal our toilet paper. She was a Penhurst exile and I heard she was repeatedly raped by her brothers. She had a jealous streak and a drama queen behavior that would send her into these fits, she’d rat to the cops all the time, get

dad in jail and then feel bad later. Quite a character

Josh: Jill’s son, just as nuts if not worse. Didn’t see him much, but boy when we did. Yeesh.

Skeleton man: He lived on his parents front porch, they wouldn’t have him in the house due to the drug habit. He always looked bad, but when the drugs were around, so was he.

Mark Garland: This guy was fucking evil. He was skeleton man’s older brother and he was just certifiable insane. You never knew who he was going to flip out on. He was going to go down for murder sooner or later.

Church: Church was a guy owned an antique refinishing business that would have actually made him some money if it didn’t go all up his nose.

Bopper: Bopper was an old drunk with sclerosis, they gave him 6 months to live for 10 years. He wasn’t really anything more than a place to drink.

Mr. Kerr: One of Jill’s clients, He looked like doc in back to the future. He used to drive us everywhere for a couple of bucks or a visit from jill. He drove an old datsun that had like 300k miles on it. It was crazy.

Zombie: Zombie was a weird story, another penhurst release. We’d see him standing to cross the same street every day. Sometimes he’d be there at 8 am. Sometimes he’d still be there at 8 pm.

Crazy Margret: Me and dad used to watch her sometimes in the early morning, running down the hill in front of our house flapping her arms trying to fly. We’d cheer her on… One day I swear.

Sharky: Her mouth looked like something in the movie jaws… If you ever wanted to win at truth or dare invite her to a party and dare somebody a blowjob with her. You’ll win every time. We’d see her on the street and there was Dad SHAAAAAAAARKEEEEEE… SHARKEEEEE. She hated us.

Bobby Bueller: This man stuttered like it was going out of style, funny guy hard drinker. Best story of bobby was him coming into bankers bar with a pair of plastic handcuffs and attempting to arrest my dad with him stuttering out your under arrest in about 5 minutes.

There were quite a few others here and there, But this was our general day to day

cast of characters. Life was a haze in that place. All hours of the night, drinking partying drugging people in and out it was just crazy. So from here I will try and place some stories to give you an idea.

The T.V… On the move in we decided to get what we could afford, I bought a bedroom suit my first a lamp, and we looked for a TV for the house. Wanted something nice so I saw this Magnavox floor console that was pretty sweet, they wanted 900 for it. eh fuck that so I went with a 400 dollar floor model with wheels. Well they show up to deliver and would you fucking believe it? they delivered the Magnavox…. Well ummm yah we wasn’t saying shit. They called back to my dad who was laughing like hell when they asked if they could swap out the TVS due to the mixup, nah we like this one and he hung up. Not bad, not bad at all.

I pulled 3 grand out in cash and received an escort of 3 people going home. Bob, Larry, and Dad of course. If it was money food booze or drugs, he was close. So the tv, the bedroom. All these drawers… No clothes. Well, Figured I needed a woman to make all this shit worthwhile so spending time in west mont with all the girls again gave me a great idea. I employed about 5 girls from scrub central for a day at the mall. I paid them all buy buying them one thing of anything they wanted. So they dressed me. I will have to admit, I looked pretty bad ass. The only thing they didn’t dress me with was my leather trench coat. That was a no exception I want that mother fucker. SO Furniture, clothes, car, check.

I had decided after the second month or so in west mont it just wasn’t going to work so I enrolled in spring ford. WOW what a great school, believe me I been to all in the area. This place was so fun, enrolled in drafting and wood shop. Quit drafting when they went to computers like a dumb ass. LOL here I am saying fuck computers they are worthless. So I stuck to shop. Made a lot of cool shit to, I was good with wood. Love the smell of stain. Shaping things, something from nothing, ugly to pretty no value to value it all appealed to me I imagine. Slept in most of my classes due to partying all night, it got to the point where the nurse let me sleep in her office till lunch, I got something to eat fucked around in shop the rest of the day gathered up some girls to go make some trouble, Bob and Larry were waiting for me to come out with the girls, they always had the party favors. Dad fucking loved it. He used to joke about going around with a bag on his head and be the unknown fucker.

In the midst of all of this, well to be exact I think it was my shopping spree. That was when me and Kelley hooked up. She was a fun gal, we used to drop acid and fuck. She took me to her prom. I’ll never forget it because there was this blonde that was all over me there. Of course my dumb ass sucked it all in. So we broke up that night. Oh well, wasn’t to big a deal for me.

Around this time I did miss the old crew, so I called them all taxi cabs and brought them up to party, what a weekend. Enter my cousin and this is a sad story. He asked me for money for a pair of shoes. I made him clean up the whole house. He did. But I don’t think he ever to this day let me live it down. It was a combination of him just not hanging with me anymore when he got cooler friends, and just kind of dumping me in general till all this happened. We were best friends. I also wanted him to earn back my favor, and respect him. I was giving money to bums, he wasn’t a bum to me. He was like my brother. I wanted him to earn it. I don’t think I was right in retrospect. It did more harm then good. Years later I would hear about it.

Next girl was Melanie. I guess you could call her my first submissive. She was absolutely fascinated by me. She would follow me around like a puppy. I used to hide at my grandparents house to get a break from her. She followed me there too. She was pretty, she was pregnant. So here’s my dad’s advice, well son she can’t get no pregnanter… So also my first dive into unprotected sex. She said the guy who owned the pizza shop knocked her, but I heard later it was her stepbrother. Even heard it was me and she never was pregnant. Also heard she named the kid Gary, don’t know for sure.

Mel and me became partners in everything. Her parents threatened to throw her in a home so I hid her out. My room, church’s anywhere there was a bed. Dad after a month of running from the cops said we can’t have it no more. He couldn’t have shit in house with cops in and out all day. Even stayed out of school. We lived hard, like street bums. She didn’t care she just wanted to be with me. First time I ever experienced that desire from any partner. I loved it. But I wrote her off and gave her up to the cops after dads request. She wrote once from the group home, I never answered and she was gone.

My depression was so bad by now, I couldn’t stop to think. I had a one thousand dollar wardrobe I never washed, started to stink. Stopped going to school, truancy was all over the place. Fuck it fuck it all. I got up some days smoked the pack of smokes Jill left me and went back to sleep. I used to pay the neighbor lady money when we were up all night being to loud. Her name was Paula. Just told her to take the kids roller skating or something. She appreciated it I think. But in the rest of the madness, there was the scams. Dad was a master.

The Scams:

Food stamps: I dunno how he got 900 in stamps a month for 2 people but he sure did. Probably had a few phantom occupants. Who gives a shit little did we know we lived with a meth lab in the basement from the landlord. He got busted for it years later. So we’d buy about 200 in food, rob the food pantries all over the area and survived on it, sold it, traded it. The rest went to a store where my dad got 50

cents on the dollar in cash. More drug money.

Theft: We would steal anything we could sell, some busy nights going through garages, cars, places of business. Breaking and entering because a regular thing for us. Always empty places though, never any occupied houses. Well, there was this one time we robbed a beer truck in broad daylight… well what kind of dumb ass starts delivering his shit from like 500 foot away and leaves the beer truck open..

Welfare: We’d scam welfare for the utilities, cash assistance, anything.

Vengeance: We were scrubs, losers. Low class deadbeats. Vikings, Pirates, Evil. We repaid anyone who dicked with us in just kind believe me. We set things on fire, broke windows, flooded out people homes, you name it. We were judge, jury and executioner of the night.

Drugs: Consumed and sold on a regular basis. Weed, cocaine mostly. Weed was usually traded and sold. Then the prescriptions.. Well they didn’t last one night my dad drank a bottle of codeine I got when I was sick. All pills went in his mouth. He got darvasets for his back, and boy he counted them fuckers.

Some notable events around this time was my dad and his antics. He used to eat his 40 oz bottle of beer when he was done drinking it. saw him do it twice. Bored I guess? I remember having my cousin over one night and when he started we went to bed. Had a note on the fridge door written in blood from his mouth. “Went for a walk, love DAD”

One night he was painting the laundry room to pay the rent, used to do it from midnight to 6am. I went out back and just sat with him a while, listening to him ranting and raving, making his usual weird noises. One song came on the radio, Rocket man by elton john. He sang every word. Every time I hear it, I think of mv dad.

He loved blackjack, we used to play it without betting but he loved losing his check in atlantic city too. Was so broke one time they bought him a bus ticket home.

Midnight runs to burger king, The lobby would close at 10 but the drive through was open to midnight. So we’d walk through the drive through. We walked everywhere just about, the camaro wasn’t legal. We used to walk through and pretend we were in an invisible car, they loved the laugh but eventually we got banned.. I can still hear him roaming the halls ranting BUUURGEEERRR

KIIIIIINGGGG…. BUUUURGER KING!

Speaking of bans dad was flagged was every bar in town just about. We had a lot of bars. Like 9 total all within walking distance. We drank at the 2 worst places in town. I managed to get served every now and again at one of them depending who worked, most time I played shuffleboard bowling or pinball.

We used to go to the laundry mat that was open 24 hours, they had a few arcade machines too. Eventually we robbed the change machines and I figured out how to make a slip quarter so they stopped being 24 hours. Oh well.

The tale of lobsti. We picked up lobsti the lobster at genardi’s alive and took him to nanny. At the time she loved shellfish. Well after releasing lobsti into the kitchen floor eventually the rubber bands came off. Lobsti crushed pencils, pens and anything else that made us laugh until we finally murdered him. What we didn’t know is lobsters scream.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! So me and Dad had many years of remembering lobsti. It break the silence, change the mood and just let dad be dad.

The OOGA BOOGA. No Idea where it came from, but it was this little plastic head that gave the weirdest vibe. Was kind of funny kind of scary. I still have it.

Mark Garland and my Dad doing cocaine was the scariest nights of my laugh. They’d both get this uncontrolled rage that wasn’t tamed, or calmed. I remember one night He came in while I was sleeping, most times to ask for money, this time was different. He just started punching me in the face. He didn’t stop. It was the phone bill, I had no problem paying it but in his mind my money was his money, so he lost money. He fucked up and chipped the shit out of my back molar. Something that would eventually tear us apart.

Garland on the other hand one night gets a tit hair from my face one night, screaming incoherent, but the only thing I could understand, if you move, you even fucking breathe, I’ll kill your mother fucking ass. I seriously prepared to die. Felt like an eternity before he walked to the backroom for more coke, I ran out of the house crying. Stayed with my uncle ter, I didn’t sleep. He snored like darth vader with a megaphone and even swore in his sleep at who knows what.

Super Chiquita man Came from some weird ass HBO movie I was watching.

Some dude busted through a door or a window or something and the guy was like hey, who the fuck are you? right when my dad came stumbling out and the TV response from this guy was super Chiquita man. So every time Dad came home it

the who the fuck are you joke… funny shit.

Well, this was a good one too. Due to my chain smoking and my dad’s too cheap ass to buy garbage bags I took out the trash one night, dumped my ashtray in without making sure the butt is out… So in about 30 minutes we had a zillion fire trucks outside and the garbage pit was on fire. Big fire. Well were watching Mtv and hey they still played music and low and behold what comes on? Midnight oil’s beds are burning which quickly evolved to how can you sleep when your garbage cans burning? We never told tony the landlord, fuck him.

https://www.voutube.com/watch?v=eiorOVv3m8E

Dad also bought a 3 wheeler off one of his friends for my birthday. Kept it at the grandparents place and boy did they know that fucker was going to be trouble. Rode the damn wheels off the thing for quite a while, it was a lot of fun.

There was the time dad went to jail. I don’t remember what for but I had nowhere to go so I went back to my mother. She had a new man I didn’t care to much for named Dana. Met him in Douglassville. I probably would have liked him more if he wasn’t ogling pussy so much everywhere we went. Thought of it as disrespectful to my mother. He had this shitty one bedroom in Boyertown, Made it work on the couch. Went to junior high west. Now there was sight. I made friends with a guy named tony and had a huge crush on a broken little redhead named carrina. I just used to sit and listen to her problems all day, talk to her in the halls whatever. I knew I wasn’t there long so I didn’t bother, but boy was she my flavor at that time. Like meat for the butcher. I thought I was kind of under the radar there, little did I know how much of an impact I actually made. I left west, never intended to look back. Back to spring ford.

I guess mom noticed me falling apart. Bad. All that happened, the good times, the bad to this point. It was a world I didn’t understand. When I finally did it was to late, I was drowning in it. Slow standing death with all the others going straight to hell on a slow boat. I had no value, no self worth. I had no idea how normal people lived, how they had fun. Never had love cept my grandparents I couldn’t understand how people stayed together then I come to the realization it’s because I never deserved it. Always moved, always tossed around, always rejected, always wanting to be put down like a dog. I tried so many times, I thought so many times this is it, death just never came. I hated my life, I hated my women, I envied being normal, being ignorant. Ball games, bbq’s DIY television. I seen so many thing I couldn’t unsee. I was wretched, twisted and evil. I was fucking 16. So she takes back to my family doctor that put me in Eugenia mental.

He gives me some kind of test after asking me a few questions. Jung test i think? One of the questions was do you have thoughts of dying, I told him it’s all I ever think about. I even thought of throwing myself out of the car on the way here.

Well I guess I passed with flying colors because hours later I was back on a ambulance bed, strapped down heading to Warminster hospital’s top floor. Psychiatric wing. I will detail that journey however in another post.

So a month later I was out. First thing I did was wait like a dog for Charlotte. She was so pretty. Had the fairest white skin I ever saw, she was so soft and would wrap up to me like a new set of skin. To my point in life I never felt anything like it. It would be my standing design for the first true, deep, love of my life. Little did I know I had already met her. So char and me didn’t last long, but what I had with her I will remember for all my days. Years later I would contact her, only twice, then she was gone again to date. But she was doing ok, and that was really all I ever wanted to know.

I was bummed out over char, not like fuck life but I was certainly in a mood went I went riding with mel’s brother Ryan. (I also heard he was the baby daddy too)… Whatever. Anyway I had a really bad accident. I was winding it out flying down this stone road when around the corner comes this dump truck. Well one of has to move and it wasn’t him. I was going so fast, he was too close. I locked the brakes and spilled. Bad. I was in shorts and a 200 dollar silk shirt, barley had the helmet on or I would have lost my face too. I tore up both my elbows, both my knees, road rash all over my chest, and an engine burn on my thigh from the ate coming to rest on top of me when it finally stopped flipping and I stopped sliding.

I jumped up when I came to, drug the ate out of the road so he could go, he asked if i was ok said yea. I didn’t want them to get scared and bar us from riding back there. Ryan managed to get it running good enough to take me to the grandparents. Bruce tries to hose me off but when he got to my elbow there was nothing but bone. Off to the hospital for a 3 week stay. They operated 3 times cleaning out the road rash, monitored me because I was diabetic, and put 9 staples in my left elbow, 4 in my right elbow, 2 in my left knee and 3 in my right knee. Spent most of my time picking off the road rash in bed. Lucky me I got a smoking room.

Had a visit from Katrina. Surprised the shit out of me when she kissed me, when I got out she was waiting. Also the candy stripers, Jesus nobody ever wanted for water in my room. It was like a brothel or something. Had a heather give me a few hand jobs in my bed and lip locked a couple others I don’t remember. However as fate would have it, one particular candy striper poked her head in and looked at me like I did something to her… I’m like oh fuck here we go. She’s like are you (says my name in full)? I said uuuh no. She goes are you sure? I said yea. dead sure. Never saw her after that. But what the fuck did I care? Kat was awesome, she was my dark, my little witch. For the few months we had together, she could wave a magic wand and take it all away. Just mesmerizing. She was a pinup in my

eyes for sure. Greed lust pride, shit she was half the deadly sins.

Before I end my ate story, I also want to mention one more point in my life. The point they brought the needle in. They told me I could no longer be diet controlled. I had to take insulin. I saw that needle and saw my father, gasping for air. The pain the anguish the begging it all came back. I told her to get the fuck out. She said if you do not take this you will die. The first thing out of my mouth was almost fuck it I’m dead anyway. Father oh father, I wanted your love and instead I got your destruction. Fuck that needle. Nothing around me but death, I welcomed it. So I pretended it wasn’t there.

Kat and me end, by this time my dad was totally out of control, we all were. The money was gone, we were taking down bigger scores, robbing each other. It was all madness. I needed out. I was in Pottstown and I remembered Jeannie. Jean was the only shrink that cried when I spoke, she was younger, but she cared for me. Like in a way I can never forget. No reason to, but she did. I walked in just walked to her office and waved. She dropped it all and ran over and hugged me. We talked for hours. She took me to 3 group homes that wouldn’t take me before finally talking to my mother. My mother agreed to take me in a month when her and Dana bought a house. I needed a place to reset in the meantime.

That will be the keystone center in Chester. I will also write about that journey in another post.

That ends the tale of my father, and my experiences living with him. My first re­connection with family. Aside from this song I dedicated to the tale of my life with him. Dad, you were a bastard. I became a bastard because I wanted to be as strong as you, as tough as you. I wanted to be as smart as you, love as hard as you did. You faced death with no fear, you accepted your end. You could make anyone in your presence laugh, smile or cry with a stare or a few words. You danced people like marionettes. I fucking hate youso much for what was done, I fucking miss you so much because I need your strength, and I love you so much because I may not have had your heart of love, it was your parents who instilled it in me. I wish they could have with you too. I love you because now I can.

The only thing about his heart I knew for sure, he died deeply loving my mother, and not knowing how to love my mother.