So I found out tonight that a close friend, one who survived the test of time, past away last night in his bed. Foil next to the bed accompanied somewhere close by the guilty blu who slew my friend. This one fucked me up. I’m super sad. And right next to the sorrow, the grief, is the unmistakable feeling of gratitude, relief that I didn’t sell him that pill. That shit would of been a hard pill to swallow no pun intended. Cody you were a good friend, a good dad, a good son. You were a good dude and I’m going to miss you dearly. This new battle that we fight out here on the streets is no joke. These blues are all bad, with every intention to take as many lives as it’s greedy hunger can get. No fucks given, fentanyl has hit the streets running, taking over the drug screen with a ruthlessness unseen before. These things are killing everyone. I knew this dude, a 20 year intravenous drug user who quit shooting heroin overnight when he started smoking blues. He wasn’t some youngster who was inexperienced, he had been getting high his whole adult life and one morning he wakes up first blue he smokes of the day and he’s dead. Dead. That’s crazy. He hadn’t been getting smashed all day and just finally tipped over the cart. It was the first blue he’d smoked that day, after 20 of abusing drugs and surviving, the first high of the day. Dead. That shit is crazy. But that happened and it did get me to thinking but it never got me to feeling. This one’s got me feeling. Cody was my friend, someone I’d known since I was in my early 20’s and still fucked around with to this day. I watched him grow from a goofy fairplay teenager into a solid man. Father of two boys he loved his children very much and he was a great dad. He was one of the friends that knew me as a father. He came with me and Brooklyn and her mother when we went to Las Vegas on a spur of the moment trip which we were entirely unprepared for and which lasted about a week and cost about $8,000. I remember we had a room at the Bellagio and the room had a bar which was controlled by motion sensors. The lady at the front desk told me it you don’t want it don’t touch it cause if you touch it you’re gonna buy it. We walk into the room and Cody walks straight up to the bar and looking down grabs an internet connection cable. Holding it up he says what is this? I look at him like he’s retarded and told him I don’t know but we own it now. He was a good dude. He will be missed. I will miss him severely. He wasn’t some harden, experienced drug addict but he wasn’t some rookie either. He knew what time it was and he wouldn’t have knowingly done this. This had to be a mistake. But mistake or no this shit is done and Cody lays dead somewhere in Colorado Springs, waiting for his final destination. And I’m left here to think. To live, for the time being.
Posted bydevilmonkey666Posted inAddiction, Adventure, All lives matter, Anxiety, blogging, Lifestyle, Mental health, psychology, Religion, suicide, Uncategorized
Published by devilmonkey666
I'm a hot mess. A 41 year old child who still doesn't know what he wants to be when he grows up. Or even if he wants to grow up for that matter. People say I'm a writer. I'm not so sure. But it is therapeutic and helps me from going all the way left sometimes. View more posts