I m Writing, Again

  I went on such a bender after the death of my brother most of my memories of 1990 were a blur. I had lost my best friend and had the Demon trying to break through the haze of drugs. At this point I had still not told anyone about killing the colonel. I had been to doctors but I was very selective of what I told them. I was abusing narcotics in massive amounts. It is hard to believe how much drugs can be ingested after someone has built up a tolerance as I. Most  of 1992 was spent in prison, as I told you before. Something had to happen, and fast. I was,once again, writing prescriptions to support an insatiable habit. There would be times I would have to stop writing them until things cooled off. That is when the Demon did not have to fight his way into my sub-conscious. The door was open. He walked right in.