memoirs of a drifter

1993;vancouver. seemed like the golden age of my life there were so many fresh faces so much excitment just to be out of the brutal hands of the stepdad. i thought after him i was never going to be hurt... what a rude awakining i was in for. within a year i was heavily addicted to ..wel whatever i could get my hands on but within six months heroin was the winner of my inner battle. the fact it made the many pains go away was enough for me to be a devoted lover of that certin poisen by sixteen i was a full blown user lived in a squat near granville and a good day was getting enough down to last till the next morning. by age seventeen i had lost 12 friend to drug use alone not to mention my first girlfriend whom was killed by a psyco john, that to me was enough.i knew if i stayed in that city i would die before i was twenty. so with the help of a friend on salt sping island i got over the worst of the withdrawl, packed my back pack and headed east for halifax. thats it for now too many bad thoughts floating around. next blog; my first (but certainlly not last) horrid trip across canada.