Brown Street

Suffice it to say, during the last two or so years of my Eastman Kodak tenure I fell into some painful places and was led down some horrible paths to bad, even dangerous situations. I have chalked this off to my attempt at pain avoidance, via whatever means, noticing this choice fits nicely to my tendency of self-destruction.

In thinking about how specific this efforts needs to be and, frankly, trying to understand the perspective within writing that define boundaries or limits as to how personal one should be when opening up their insides, it’s come to me to try and convey the dread of my path without, necessarily, developing a specific, name by name and, or week by week account.

All I am prepared to say and defend today are the following:

1). Pain is your choice.

2). Liquor and drugs cannot make it, or them, go away.

3). Tomorrow will become, day-by-day, worse.

There are, I’m sure, many paths through life. I know of at least two. There is the path of death, along which you choose to hurt your self until it’s over, and there is the path of life wherein you love your self and those all around.

You, and only you, can and must fix your situation if pain controls your directions. Look for the good things and focus on those and you’ll find your way to better tomorrows.

Here’s as close to the real story as I’m going to spell out. Hopefully, you’ll see.

5/24/2001 The preachy part

6/21/2002 The real story (click here)