Friday, March 4, 2011

657


Sometimes You Need the Dose of Darkness
Or You Will Dream to Death in the Light

- Blake4d




Have you ever had a friend that no matter what you do the two of you communicate about as calmly as two bitches playing with loaded guns? Well that is my friend KG and I - recently we just seem to always push the right then the wrong buttons in our friendship. None the less that changes nothing in what I think of the honesty and talents of my Canadian amiga who writes like most of us wish we could kiss - who makes me want to cut my hair -  trade in my passport - for when she gets honest with you ... it is like there is no other person in the world ... for a moment you tremble

Then the world falls down
Today a dark beautiful and brutal piece by my Northern lightning bolt

My Life as a White Female Drug Dealer

by Kimberly Gray

What does it mean to choose this lifestyle?

As I write this Hub, I find it hard to believe I lived, for quite sometime, in the world that lives at night, dealing drugs. This was the early street hustling dealing that I refer to. I have published a second hub to where my life moved to an even scarier dealing with Drug Cartel.

As this sub title states, this was a choice, my conscious choice.

Being female and white as well as tiny, brought many more obstacles, forcing me to quickly adapt to drastic, foreign, and unknown behaviors. Still, I remained, and was determined to choose this lifestyle. This line of work, surrounded by convicts, killers, thieves, pushers, PIMPS, hookers, dealers, weapons, large quantities of illegal substances for distribution, the reason was grossly simple.

I could no loner sustain my corporate identity and work load with the amount of drugs I was taking. It was physically and mentally taking over any means of me performing. That and too much money was being made where I always had supply and overdid lethal quantities causing two overdoses. Then of course this idiotic addict convinces herself no one knows. Looking back now, 'embarrassed' is to put it mildly. So I did what I thought was the next logical thing to do, fully in denial given I already had a vast knowledge of narcotics/this addiction and the almost guaranteed consequences.

So rationalized in my head this was a smart move, using my intuition, 25 years of business and people skills and a wad to start my empire? Can we all agree that addiction and alcoholism clouds judgement just a little. My new business world was nothing as expected no matter how often I tried I had to become ruthless, show no emotion, definitely not fear, do the job correctly, never be short in cash, accountable to a boss. A boss who only knew the method of using fear to dictate conditions. Names were false, the circled process, illegal, dangerous and most demeaning in the beginning. Add being a white, tiny woman, offered a combination that I had to agree with or get the hell out. Quickly.

Understand the street working ethics, but first learn how to walk into dangers like the 'ghetto', crack houses, abandon buildings, new unknown buyers,weapons, a 99% male dominant booming industry and when delivering, always have someone who's got your back, to sweep for any sign of cops.

Then while we call em gangsters that I ran with at night, to shady places you have never seen I only hope. of, and may you never have to.

If I even had a sense of heat near, I was gone. Little giveaways, how cars behave, following you, often keep looking at you, appear when a buyer gets in your car. Never park in the same place twice, never.

Never buy your supply from someone who uses. In all the time I bought heroin and cocaine from my dealers, including every pain pill in existence, I always shot it straight, asked no questions, only relied on their guarantee the product was pure, not cut and affordable given drug costs fluctuate.

The means to import cocaine nowadays is shocking to say the least.

'Death must be easy, cause life is so hard'

I am in shock as I learned not too long ago cocaine and crack, when sold as such, cost the same. Until then crack was super cheap, and if you can cook it yourself, you were making a fortune. The market reached a point where I had to sell it point for point, ie; $100.00 got you one gram. Back in the day it was double the amount of product.
It was really dangerous and scary most of the time, but slowly I gained, not trust, but respect as my word was what I said, I always did, always. I say not trust because, please, these people, any of them, will slit your throats so fast if they smell betrayal, its not funny. Some do it to threaten their boys to stay in line, and behave, but hustle the $20 junkies and cook it there's not much crack/rock in it, they never say no and don't dare ask for a dealer to front you.
I am speaking on a low level, hustlers selling all night never in one place more than 10 minutes which is good for about $400.00

This may sound far from real, and if you feel so, no need to read the rest. There are those who want to learn this horrifying job, to teach their children what to look out for when avoiding drug use, called runners who sell to minors, and it makes me sick, adding on the fact they often sell soap.
The new craze is a product/drug called comeback. If you are not really familiar with using via pipe or IV, crack, you most likely will not notice a difference.
Not once did I surrender my body in any way, a common form of payment, often seen in crack houses. Desperation is so strong as a mental obsession, I cant even explain it. I rode it out, most will do anything, I've seen everything, to get crack.
News-flash, crack, known correctly, once as a black man's ghetto drug. Crack left that demographic quite a while ago.
It is mainstream, white collar and down. Yes most dealers are black in any city. However I stepped into a world that only knows to collect on a debt of any amount, on principle. Too many use to Federal Jail time, and years passing by. Upon their release business as usual. That fact is relevant for all dealers however.
They know no other way of life, I was lucky to. I cannot tell you why I went from a high executive class producer to a dealer with a client base barely able to keep up to. I made more producing but loved the way I continued having a wad of cash
This is a known fact, dealers continue to work, because the demand is so high, with all of us we cannot supply enough, quickly enough. No one buys powder any more, they buy rock.
Your kids teachers, doctors and surgeons, accountants, single mothers with 6 children hungry, superintendents, public transit drivers, had tons of those, you get the idea.
I feel a need to express I am in no way glorifying drug dealing, promoting or fabricating it.
It is terrifying and hard to get out of, especially if your a heroin and cocaine addict now shooting rock in your veins as well, resorting to injecting pain medication. There is no need to explain to you how that is done.
Being a heavy using Junkie at the time, slightly defines why I became a Drug Dealer, as you already figured out I am sure. My drug history of using daily for 24 years, is for another Hub. But not just my drugs, ridiculous, but rather awareness. The biggest weapon we can give our children not to try drugs or collapse in peer pressure, is information and educate them on the brutal facts.
My name is Kimberly and I am a recovering Drug addict, completely free of any mind altering chemicals today. I have moved far away and got a new phone number. Three dealers I still speak to about every 3 months, about nothing, which suits me fine.

The Brutal Truth About Drugs


My goal here is to talk about the truth about drugs. There is a lot of information about drugs available, some correct, a lot not. Most of what our kids learn about drugs comes from those who are selling them.

This is primarily for our younger generation who need the facts to not get hooked on drugs. Just as important, the parents to have the information and can be prepared. It also will cater to the older generation who are still doing drugs.

Maybe it will inform you what they are doing to you.

I myself, am a recovering drug addict. My goal includes spreading awareness that if you have been taken prisoner by drugs or alcohol, recovery is possible, just not alone. There is help. dear addict right here on HubPages. Some really cool people helping people.


Drugs have been a part of our culture since the middle of the last century. Popularized in the 60’s by music and mass media. Drugs invade all aspects of our Society.

208 million people Internationally consume illegal drugs. 19.9 million Americans (or 8% of the population over 12 years of age) used illegal drugs last month (source National Survey on Drug Use and Health)

I have no doubt you probably know someone who has been affected by drugs, directly, or indirectly. I myself, am a recovering drug addict.

Did you know if our children don’t try a drug by the age of 20, they are most likely will never do so.


The most used and abused drug in the US is alcohol. Alcohol related motor accidents are the second leading cause of teen death in the US.


The most common used illegal drug is marijuana. The United Nations 2008 World Drug Report, states that 39% of the worlds population between ages of 15 and 64 abuse marijuana.

Simply, people start taking drugs to either; -fit in-to escape or relax-to relieve boredom-to seem grown up-to rebel-to experiment. Thinking drugs are the solution, when drugs eventually become the problem.


What your Dealer can do for You

Mind-altering drugs


During the 1980's I worked as a state-employed dentist at a psychiatric hospital and during this time published a paper on the interaction of mind-altering medications with other medications used by dentists. The majority of psychiatric patients in those times were institutionalized, in other words they were locked-up, often for life!
Advances in mind-altering drugs made it possible for a great number of these patients to be de-institutionalized - so they were able to go home and could live a more normal life! What a blessing to great numbers of psychiatric patients!
It is my opinion that the pendulum has recently swayed completely to the other side and medical professionals are prescribing mind altering drugs like anti-depressants, sleeping tablets and drugs like Ritalin much too frequently and easily!
When one sees statistics like over 6% of children under the age of 18 are taking one or more of these drugs, and that anti-depressants are being prescribed all the more frequently to children under the age of 5, and that anti-depressant drugs are ironically associated with an increased risk of suicide, one becomes worried in the extreme sense of the word.

SO How did I get out?

I didn't. 
The real question is how did I survive for years to follow until I was ready to be invisible.
I cannot take credit for this. I was sent an angel who, no matter how insane my life became, refused to give up on me. He saved my life, more than once

My Angels a Dude
Someone sent me an angel, I swear this is no lie
And get this, more shocking, my angel is a guy

He wears all black with really long hair
This is no hallucination, as he is always there

I had no idea, nor did he ever once mention
He just gently and silently gave me loving attention

It started to dawn on me months into my demise
He stood still beside me, to my constant surprise

Still that does not define an angel, to be of support
It was his unannounced arrivals, just as I would fall short

I fought the help, the love, the faith, mostly his trust
He would just not give up, I was never awful enough

Undeserving, I kept on my spiral down faster
Nothing but kaos, illness, fog and disaster

Still he would come check me everyday to ensure
My health and surroundings were safely secure

But mostly to remind me and show me on his own
No matter what, I was never going to be alone

I will be honest I could not trust his intentions
And confused, as I had nothing to offer but questions

His pure consistency I had never known
His sincerity for someone like me felt so alone

I never felt such anger yet I did not want this to end
Who would accept such an incapable and sickly friend

But here is the angel, the reason I know
His faith in my recovery and his words did show

Truth in his promise and every bit of his own trust
He lent to me as my belief was a must

His timing is spiritual in the order my days unfold
His gentleness unfamiliar in the realness of his hold

Every detail he had said does all come
And so miraculously where is he from

I live and breath today literally because of his love
He is something I now believe comes from up above

I could never repay his gifts of my
I can only share his hope, his love and continue to try.


This I do know

In my years following this behavior, seemingly unreal, I tried, and tried and tried and tried to forget, sit in denial. We all know, you may think you have, but I know I just can't run from truth. In knowing this, and finally accepting this, I was able to forgive myself. By being completely honest with myself.
By knowing, the woman I found was not the woman I remained to be. I know how lucky I am to be here and writing and healing from incidents and consequences of my choices.
Again, in truth, I am free, and in truth I am me.
Have a safe 24! Remember you are not alone, nor do you have to be. Ever again. Reach out.
It's a shame not everybody gets to live and some of us dye, the question is how?
Your worth the fight to live, please never forget that peace.


3 comments:

  1. She woke up at 3.25 am, 12 hour sleep so needed, feeling alone still from her fathers death, within a minute remembered Blake mentioned this blog-to read at midnight.So excited and so curious, her mac seemed ridiculously slow to boot up. She got here. She cried here. She smiled here. She stayed here. She kept re-reading here. She for the first time felt proud here. She was validated here. She gave thanks here. She loved him here. She was proud of him here. All those other comments elsewhere were kind but here, brought her truth to life, her message finally real through his finding time to honour her life and need to help. She again knows not what to say. Her heart loves him and with loaded guns, she smiles knowing in their toughest confrontations, their love is stronger. He knows not the depth of love for him that would take any bullet. With a tear she feels so grateful for this beautiful post, so thankful and finally feels no doubt there is nothing that could ever keep them apart permanently, he is her love she cannot smell but somehow feels. My god thank you soul mate. Now come take me I always need you.

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