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Since my music is in the toilet right now I'm planning on finishing my autobiography. It's stuck in an infected PC but I think I can retrieve it.
After reading the entire book you will all call me a liar and insist that it is a fictional tale, but it's not.






*****************Jigsaw Man************



I've sometimes thought that I'd have liked to be normal. To do what "normal" people do. I have thought I'd like to be dead too. But the truth is, I have no desire what so ever to be either!



So this is where it all began; with me lying on the sidewalk in a cardboard condo. Just barely well enough on my little piece of chiva (Mexican tar heroin) that I'd hustled for the day to keep the chill of the San Francisco air from taking my last bit of will away. So far down that I can't even lie to myself anymore. Slowly, after having no escape, the fog began to lift. All was revealed in horrifying detail. A shiny, scantly veiled piece of sh*t. It was like a mad bear bursting from the woods at me. It was like I was suddenly looking at someone else's life and I had just stepped into it. The fact is, I've been f**k up every since that moment. Things happened to me that I just never knew how to adjust to. So I guess I had just assumed that I had dealt with it, it had no effect on me, and that was that! I suppose it was the ultimate denial. But when I was truly at the bottom of my threshold of humanity, and there was no more self defense's of any kind left in me, all of my switches had gone dead. I lay there, and there, and there, and I was forced to watch this epic movie of this miserable wretch dodging and darting and morphing, trying to escape the reality that had him trapped. He was beaten before he even got started. It was his legacy you see! A long line of blind lemons. trapped in a vortex of filthy slime that just wouldn't wash off. Even when they'd thought they'd escaped it, it would always show up again. You see, anything if soaked in flavoring for a long enough time, will retain some of that flavor. On the other hand, you only have to taste sh*t for one brief moment and you'll never forget it! Being a forty year old man and suddenly realizing just what you are, for the first time in your life... it was like I was dropped out of the womb and straight into this middle aged man's body and his past. I think I was in some kind of dazed state all of my life. Like a super slow motion awakening from a lucid dream. Sometimes it was like I was an actor bound by a script.
I remember once when I was in my early twenties, I was lying on my bed keeping a watchful eye on the alarm clock. It had gone off already some twenty minutes earlier, and I was about five minutes from not being able to make it to work on time. I both liked and needed the job, but I just lye there. Oh man, if I get up now I can be just ten minutes late...if I get up now I'll just be thirty minutes late...Well, it looks like I just lost another job!
I myself have "no idea" why I didn't get up and go! I have worked at some of the hardest labor jobs there are; cement foundry, furniture mover, hod carrier, so it's not laziness.
It was like I was just a bystander to my own actions and fate.
Lying there with the rest of the trash in my sameness of addiction.
I had to face it!
Through sharing of history's with others of my sameness, I had to see that all of those things of mental, moral, and physical abuse's, did both happen to me, and effect me. These things affected and infected my every decision, emotion, and moral philosophy; or lack of. They have left me with a fractured identity.
There seemed to be only three choices left; make a last desperate attempt at repairing and rebuilding this pathetic disgusting jigsaw of a man, continuing on until I died, or just go ahead and die.
Well I'm writing this so....this part of my last effort at being at least a piece of what I'd always tried to convince myself that I was. It's not easy to polish a turd. I just keep rubbin...


It's not easy to share this. Or even to write it. For some reason that I don't really understand, I feel like I should though. So there it is.

The fact that you called it Jigsaw Man tells me that you still believe you can put the pieces together. With a jigsaw puzzle you can have a couple pieces missing and still be able see the big picture. So it is with life; not everything needs to be in place to still have a happy and fulfilling life. As musicians we often feel that if our music isn't happening life is not worthwhile. The reality is that music, like any other art, can best be created when the other parts of the puzzle exist: a home, a means of income, a partner (whether man or woman) and for some, spiritual awareness. Once these things are in place we can attempt to find artistic fulfillment. But even if we fail on our journey, we can still be satisfied that we made a decent effort.

Introspection is not the art of a fool.
Carry on wayward son.

Jimmy, what in the hell are you babbling on about?

Yep, addiction is a flat out demonic bitch.
Sometimes you can fight of her less violent attacks, but it isn't often that shes just toying with her food.
Those who have been a toy for a time just don't understand the difference. They shrugged her off by their own will, never realizing that she was just playing with them.

I'm tired...

Thanks for sharing that Hayden. Reading other people's stories always help me reflect on mine.

I know that lack of motivation can be so bad that you could almost just lay down and die, without even the desire to eat. If you kill all hope, that's the danger that could be ahead. So go for what you've always wanted to do, even if it's seems ridiculous to you even. This is the only life you're going to get here on earth.

Heroin is an asshole. It nurtures when it's there, and abandons you in the worst way, causing the most horrifying withdrawals....sometimes worse than death.

I can relate to a lot of things you've said here. All I can say is thank God I'm still here moving closer to health.

I don't always check my email but you can hit me up on: bgkrul@att.net

Be well bro.

Thanks Bro!

Good writing Hayden I wouldnt go buy stuff like that cause I would rather read something uplifting/

I used to laugh at the idea of addiction. But a few years ago when the wife left I got hooked on Xanax, so I understand some of what you are saying. I just dont want to relive it or even think about it anymore.

Good Luck with the Book!

Thanks JW/Chris. I do enjoy writing and have done it seemingly all o my life. I would prefer it to be a diversion from music though.
I'm a member of an artists group here which is mostly writers and artists. I may present it at the next meeting and see how it flies. A nice quiet place out in the mountains to write would be a big help. Maybe someone there has a place I can use.

Nice writing Hayden,

most people will never know how hard it is to fill a page with something original, especially writing on more than one level and having it mean something....

Thanks Stranger! Sometimes it just flows and sometimes it just doesn't, but it never seems to turn out right unless that flow comes along with it.