I started smoking pot (and cigarettes and drinking and trying other drugs) when I was 12.
I grew up without an enduring male role model.
Years ago someone asked me, What makes you, you?
You’ve been through life without a scar…
My childhood memories of Thanksgiving seem to be shrouded and stored in some faraway locker in my mind.
I love to journal, but time isn’t always available.
According to my pill box, it’s Wednesday. I hit snooze.
Life is very good…