Writing - A life style not a choice
For years I did not know what the voices in my head were. I ignored them to the best of my ability. I started to drink and do drugs in an attempt to drown them out. I failed, miserably. I ended up on that thin line between free and locked away.
April 8, 2005 changed my direction. I was at a house in a town close to where I lived. I was with a group of friends, including my then girlfriend and we were cooking meth. I was asked to run to the “station” to get a two liter of coke and some Zig Zag’s. I did as I was asked, as usual. I got in my van, started it, and left. As I reached the end of the addition to turn onto the main road, two local police officers, two state troopers, and the sheriffs detainee van passed me…
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