Alright… my view on it. When u starve urself u know what starts to happen when u sleep?… u dream of food. For years while married I was sober. No booze… no baggies… get it? I’d find I’d wake a lot of mornings with memories of very vivid dreams of smoking Meth. Yeah, I always talk about meth right but u guys don’t get it… I “loved” to smoke meth. I watched family and friends spin away into just passing thoughts while out there on that crap… and I three quarters of the way didn’t give a @&$!
I had a falling out with my son’s mother one day. Tired of these “using” dreams and feelings I snapped. I said, “u know what?… to hell with it and me… I gotta blow!”… almost 5 yrs sober… over in one day. I left her and my son that day to have my itch scratched and question really answered about my sobriety… is this what I really really want?… after getting to town, buying some bags, sitting in a dark basement by myself all night lighting up my bubble and trying to accept my choice as my new road I had a change of heart. “Wtf Pack?… Jr!… Oh Allah, my son!”… in my mind his face, his smile, his voice, his laughter, and his crying were everywhere. Although high, I called upon my God… “I know u see me!… I’m sorry… please help me!” However it happened, I tossed the damned bubble in the trash. Next few days, I tried to hydrate myself constantly, eat, and struggle to get some rest. I got through through the days… recovered and I haven’t touched it since. I made that choice!… I wasn’t forced by my wife with threats of kicking me out or any of that. I saw the road ahead somehow… I saw there was no light or hope. U laugh at religious belief… especially Islam… but 911 has no connection to the power of what pushes me forward at all. I speak of lust and irresponsible and Wanton living in my writings. Again, when u live without, what ur used to indulging in will come to constantly plague and harass ur sleeping and waking mind at times. Especially our sexual natures… it can be maddening being absolutely ravenous while having fully-cooked meals right in front of u everywhere that u’ve sworn an oath not to even touch a morsel of. Im a man with a man’s nature… not a piece of stone or wood. I’m a poet ppl… not only that, I’m quite noticeably mystical in my ways and thinking. Eccentric and unorthodox… i can’t help it… it’s just the way I am. I follow a way, true… a religious path. And interestingly, in Arabic the word for poet is shaa’ir…literally translated “one who feels… deeply!”… and if u haven’t noticed, I do feel deeply. Artists, musicians, and poets… narcissistic but brilliantly minded maniacs… so that’s my little explanaition… Peace

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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