Exposed!Well, readers… It’s been a good run. But I’m afraid the gig is up. My true intentions have been exposed, by a fellow blogger none the less, and after deliberation and counsel with my higher-ups, I’ve decided to come clean to you. I thought I had a pretty good cover going, luring people over to the dark side, until I had them just where I wanted, stumbling through life blindly, deluded by a false sense of security in their sinful opiate haze. And just when they’d least expect it, like the Hammer of Thor, I’d unleash the full force of the American legal system and have those junky sinners locked up so fast they wouldn’t even have time to pack their Methadone before withdraws begin in the slammer. Ha! Serves them right anyway. That’s right. I had you all fooled, didn’t I. I’m a proud informant performing my patriotic duty, a secret agent for the War on Drugs, a voluntary informant for the American government. I am the enemy! I will not rest until all of you weak-spirited junky, drugged up hippie people are locked away for good!

Fooled you, didn’t I? You thought I just sat around all day sticking needles up my arm and nodding off at the devil’s will. But I suppose I too must have an imperfection, although I’ve yet to determine where I went wrong. I had been working diligently for the American government to take down a menace to the War on Drugs, the fellow blogger I mentioned. Things were all going according to plan. After many months of carefully working my magic, I felt confident that my strike would be imminent and merciless. But my confidence was my downfall. Just like the menaces I justly put away, I let my guard down. After all my hard work, just when I thought I had him, he inexplicably severed communication without an explanation.

I spent many hours pondering the implications of this silence. Could he have figured me out? If so, how? Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get to the bottom of this. Putting on my best junky face, an imitation I’ve perfected by the standards of even the best critics, I once again reached out in the hopes of salvaging the countless hours I spent spinning my web of treachery. As I awaited his reply, I hoped that it was all a misunderstanding and there was another explanation for his radio silence.

Then quicker than I expected, an email response popped in my in-box! My heart skipped a beat as I hoped beyond hope for another explanation, quickly skimming the contents, I read the words I had prayed I’d never read. “…. Blah, blah, blah… something you said…. Blah, blah, blah… increased probability…blah, blah, blah… informant…!”

My heart sank as my worst fears were confirmed. The gig was up. My cover was blown. What are my higher ups going to say? How am I going to salvage my career? Will I ever be able to fulfill my dream of creating an American utopia where our streets are free of drug using scum?


And if anyone believes that, I have some land in Florida that I’ve love to sell you. Do not be offended, dear reader. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you. I am confident that my readers are an above average group of people, with superior IQ’s and beautiful free-thinking minds. But unfortunately, the part about one of my readers believing I am an informant is 100% true. In case anyone else here has any doubt, let me put your mind at ease, and inform you that I am not. The idea is beyond preposterous.

While admittedly the knowledge that one of my associates thinks I’m a snitch, is repulsive and makes my stomach turn, if someone wants to believe something about you and has decided not to trust you, there is absolutely nothing you can do to change their minds. It sucks, but you just have to let it go.

I could get angry and try to defend myself and get myself all worked up into a tizzy. But that wouldn’t do anything to improve the situation. If anything, it might make matters worse.

That thing that really gets me about this, putting aside any personal feelings around that relationship, is that is just another manifestation of how heroin addicts are constantly being misjudged, distrusted and discriminated against. Especially when we’re vocal about it. The implication was that I was so vocal and spoke so freely and openly about my use, without free of law enforcement knocking on my door, that I was either foolish, or I was working with the law to, I don’t know, I guess bait people into telling me things so I could use that information to inform on people? And from someone who had previously supported my efforts to encourage people to out themselves because it is the only way to draw attention to the sheer magnitude of the situation. But when I walk the walk and actually do live my life openly, I’m either daft or in bed with the enemy.

It’s bad enough when it comes from the outside world. But you get used to it. That’s an everyday occurrence. But when it comes from someone who is supposedly on your side, who has supported you in your effort, who you’ve collaborated with, who’s been on this side and knows what it’s like and supposedly agrees with you, the cut is deeper and to the core. But, I guess I’m an idealist. I want to see the good in people. I want to believe that people can make a difference and I blindly trust everybody and I always assume people are being sincere with me. But I guess the reality is much bleaker than I’d like to believe.

That being said, the overwhelming majority of people that I’ve met through my blog have been unbelievably supportive, warm and encouraging. I know it’s a relatively small following (although rapidly growing, with up to 1,000 readers a day before I went to jail and lost my domain name). But you guys have been inspirational and extremely loyal. I cannot express enough how appreciative I am for that support. I do put a lot of effort into this blog, more than most people would even understand. I want it to be fun and entertaining, as well as informative and educational. And I do put myself out there – my whole self, my entire life. So much so that it does shock many people. But I feel that it is important for somebody to at least try to set the record straight. I don’t get involved with many protests or rallies and I’m not in the financial position right now to donate as much as I’d like to the causes that I feel passionate about. But I’m a writer. By combining the talents and resources that I do have, the most powerful way for me to contribute is through this website. By telling my story, by answer questions from other addicts and loved ones of addicts, I am able to reach the most people in the most personal way possible. And it is immensely rewarding. Not everyone is in a position to be completely honest and open about this type of lifestyle. They have too much at stake. I don’t have that burden, my life was made an open book way back when the internet scandal happened and photographs of every aspect of my life were put online and advertised for the world to see. While mortifying at the time, it has given me a freedom that I am now eternally grateful for (although it felt devastating at the time, lol). So this is what I choose to do; both to help other addicts as well as to clear up popular misconceptions and unjust stereotypes that hurt all of us who, as adults, choose to put drugs in our bodies, even if the rest of the word does not agree with that choice.

All that being said, I hold no ill-will for being called an informant. Not everybody is going to agree with how I conduct my life, or understand why I do what I do – junky or not.  But if there is anyone else out there who hold similar sentiments, I just want to go on record and assure you, that is the farthest things from the truth. I see no reason to ever discuss the subject again, so I’m putting it to bed.

And that sounds like a pretty good idea, so I think I’ll put myself to bed now too.

Peace and Love, Readers



3 thoughts on “Exposed!

  1. I’m very disappointed to learn that you are an informant, a lackey of the state and nothing more than a foot soldier in the War on Drugs™..

    I would like a full refund on all the posts that I have read on your blog.

    I’ve been the object of more than my share of such paranoid speculation—that I have “cop” glasses; that I’m not homeless and that I am on welfare. One fellow insisted that I was receiving disability. Eventually rumours upgraded me to full disability, which was nice in a way.

    Some have speculated that I’m a secret drinker; that I *must* use drugs and one if my more delusional homeless peers once went around claiming that I was a 900-year-old body-snatcher and that I was on my last body.

    That last bit, about being on my last body, is the only bit of truth in the whole lot, I fear.

    You’re right, of course. Once people get a thing fixed in their mind there’s little that you can do to dissuade them. At the best of times everyone is living in their own reality, it’s just that we overlap enough to communicate. When realities conflict, I find that it does more harm than good to forcefully contradict the other person’s view.


    • Stereotypes run deeper than the Grand Canyon. And first impressions are everlasting and impossible to change. If you meet someone who already know that you are a drug user, it doesn’t matter if you are giving a Ted Talk on the future of our country’s attitude on drugs with 10 credentials and a PhD to back you up. All you’ll be to them is a pathetic junky. To quote Stanley Kramer, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.

      Liked by 1 person

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