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Raisins and Roaches is the story of my two years of heavy addiction to crack. I didn't drink or smoke pot. I just wanted crack. I couldn't be trusted anymore and that was my big claim to fame, my trustworthiness with everyone. Raisins are the good guys in the crack world. They have little black faces like raisins visible under their big sports hats and jackets and they always have on expensive shoes. Those are real crack dealers. You are safe with them. They will protect you and also sell you high quality drugs. They control the lots and buildings where they work. They get you in and get you out. They get your money and you get packets of dope. Roaches are the creeps who prey on the customers when the regular gangs are not working. Naturally you look for the raisins first, but they are only out there when they have a shipment of rocks to sell. The rest of the time, you are on your own. Everyone is your friend and no one is your friend. Desperation rules. You are desperate and everyone else is also. Money doesn't necessarily mean dope. You still got to find somebody you can trust to give the money to. Most people cannot be trusted because they want to get buzzed as bad as you do. Some people think they are bigger than coke. I guess I did also, but I found out the hard way that I am not. Coke is an overpowering monster. It controls us from the inside out. Our very souls get addicted. Total loss of self-control. Nothing else matters except to get a rush from smoking it. Other people don't matter, unless they are means of acquiring the rocks. If cops want to do some real good for the world, they can get the rocks off the street. We might not like it at first, but if the addicts quit the drug because there is none around, the cops have saved their lives and given them new hope. The cops have lifted a terrible affliction so the addict can grab hold of life. Otherwise, they are going to die from coke and live the rest of their lives in misery. I was addicted for two years. Hooked bad. Lost my money, my home, my belongings and my girlfriend. I feel I am still addicted. I probably always will be. We got this thing inside of us. Some scientists call it a subconscious. I call it a spirit. My spirit is still hooked. I can tell by the dreams I have, like this one last night. I was sitting on an olden wooden chair, like an antique Amish chair. Underneath me was a box full of perfectly squared off white, crystalline blocks. I was handcuffed to one of the blocks and a guy kept handcuffing me to more of them. Then my legs also. It was impossible for me to move. I know that was an addiction dream. I have had a lot of them. If I took one drag of crack, I would be right back where I was. I can never smoke it again and I never will. I went through psychotherapy for alcoholism and I feel pretty well cured of it. I can have a social beer or glass of wine now without continuing to oblivion. Not so with crack. It is a lot stronger addiction. At least, to me it sure is. Yes once addicted, you are always addicted to it. I don't believe any known therapy can get a person cleansed enough so they could be an occasional crack user. For me that extends to powder cocaine also. Never again.
