Here are some sample chapters of my book. The first one is all about what happens to me just before I am about to lose everything. It's pretty graphic but every word is true.

So here's what happens to me just before I am about to lose everything. I've gotten very good at it. I've done it four times now. I'm a pro. I'll be on one of my famous tears that usually last about two months. I've exhausted most of the resources available to me. Fraud, theft, pawnshops, credit cards, loans, payday advances, everything I can possibly think of to get money. I've been using for two months without food or sleep so I'm quite tired and hungry. I've lost a lot of weight, I can't take a proper shit, I have crack farts that smell like hell warmed over, my family is worried sick not knowing whether I'm dead or alive, reading the paper headlines, the obituaries, and the news terrified that they may hear some tragic or humiliating news. Unable to sleep at night unable to keep spirits up, and I am sinking lower and lower and lower. I'm in another world. I don't realize that my world is hanging by a string. I don't notice the weather. It's summer and I've just noticed that there is no more snow on the ground. I still have my parka on. Wow, people are wearing shorts. When did that happen? Life is passing me by. I haven't checked my mail or email, I haven't paid a single bill, answered the phone. All that matters is that there is a hit in my pocket or on the table and that my pipe is ready. I have sores on my mouth from sucking a burning hot piece of brillo through the pipe into my mouth and I try not to feel the excruciating pain by doing more hits. If I have a horker to spit up, which is all the time, I simply spit on the floor on the carpet  in my apartment, I can't be bothered to waste good using time by going to the bathroom. The horkers are the size of golf balls. I haven't showered in weeks and there are bugs crawling out of the sink in the kitchen. There are bits of brillo all over the floor, my hands are black from working with resiny brillo, trying to scrape another hit, my hands are cut up from ripping the brillo to make a screen for the pipe. My thumb has blisters on it from flicking my bic for hours at a time. I cough up mucous constantly. If a stranger walked in they would faint from the smell. So I will have been through about two months of smoking and calling the dealer and running for more and smoking while I'm running for more, and smoking while running back home to do more and more and more. And I begin to realize that I am almost out of resources and I begin to panic. It's as if I'm on a plane and they have told me that we have just run out of fuel that the plane is about to crash. I panic. I may have one resource left. Maybe a car, maybe a mutual fund. Whatever it is, I tell myself this I cannot lose. This I must hang on to because if I don't I'll be left with absolutely nothing, my family doesn't enable or save me anymore I'll have nowhere to go and then what will I do? I then run out of dope and I say to myself this. “OK, I have nothing left but this. If I give this up I will end up in detox, then rehab, then have to start my life all over again from scratch. I have gone through every rationalization and justification I could think of up to now as to why I needed to spend all my money, sell my camera, my bike, the first car, my instruments, my computer, my phone, I have thought of every way I'll get them all back. I'll stop, I'll take a loan, I'll find a job, all bullshit and totally insanely unrealistic and I say Fuck It! Total apathy takes over me in my heart, soul and balls. I know I am going down and I say I may as well go all the way. I give up my last nickel, and any possession I have worth anything to go all the way. And then the hurt starts. The tears come, the reality hits. Oh my God. Help me. Please help me. I beg my family, I crawl back to anyone who might still care about me begging them to help me and that I can't live this way anymore. They're always there to help me pick up the pieces. To help me wipe off the table and start all over again.

 

 

Confessions of a Crack head is available now at any online bookstore. Click to order from amazon.ca amazon.com borders.com barnes and noble.com If you want you can also find Zach Samuels at www.facebook.com and join the group Confessions of a Crack Head there. There is also a group with the same name at Yahoo groups. So spread the word, send me feedback or discuss with others at the forum on this site. Also be sure to check out the blog on this site with current information updated regularly.