Diary of an unemployed man

A young man of my class and education in my position is expected to do one of two things if they are to be successful. They either find a profession and become that thing until they can retire comfortably or they work for money while pursuing their own true passion with the hope that that passion will someday become a profession. I would prefer the later for my passions do not line up with my ambitions. Or should I say I am ambitious, but I am not economically minded. I am bad with money. But even more then that I am bad with working.

Yes I fear that 'little death' that comes with the first paycheck earned with disinterested sweat and energy. So much energy is expended that the rest of the waking day becomes a state of imprisonment in ones own body. The mind is awake, but does not want to do any more work. But the money is enough to pay the rent, bills, and then some. And I know the longer I can keep this up the better the chances that I can remain 'stable' financially speaking. So to hell with passions right? For now I am in an unusual state of opportunity or inertia depending on my mood. But when I do things, I really do them. I prey that I can fit myself into that second path to success that I mentioned, but I have to recognize and even appreciate the pains that go along with it.

Sunday

As musicians we tend to use the holy day of rest for working. But God would never punish us for that.

Drugs in the City

San Francisco's Mission district drug scene has changed drastically in the last ten yeas. In 2000 when I lived on 24th and Mission there were Mexican dealers on the street that sold coke and weed. Actual powder cocaine, not crack. These guys were not people who'd come to your house when you called them like most dealers of these kinds of social drugs. They just posted up on the street and waited for people they knew to come by. Down 24th street towards Portrrero Hill there were other Mexican dealers who sold $15 pieces of tar heroin. It was not the best, but it was always around. Then you had the real heroin center on 16th and Mission right outside the BART station. It was a little odd to have an open air drug market in such a high profile neighborhood, but there it was. Mexican, white, and black dealers, some addicts themselves working for dealers, would sell $5 balloons of heroin and coke called one-and-ones. The dealers gave local addicts one balloon for every three they could get another addict to buy: Credits. This system kept a screen between the dealers and the possible undercover agents. Addicts would do the actual transaction so if it was a set-up the addict/worker and not the dealer would take the fall. It also encouraged addicts to try and market their dealers product to possible buyers. This system worked well, and addicts came from all over the Bay Area to score. There was a heavy police presence, but they could not shut it down.

What did happen over time however, was that crack flooded the market and the other higher quality drugs got phased out. By 2008 the powder cocaine all but disappeared from the Mission district. Dealers who used to sell powder now sold crack. If a junkie wanted to shoot up cocaine they had to break the crack back down into its original form. They had to undo what the dealers did to make the coke into crack. It was dirty and far less potent. Crack is a course and unrefined market environment. Everyone is trying to rip everyone off. Local addicts would no longer get credits so they began to prey on outsiders and each other. The heroin addicts went to the Tenderloin. What is left today is a dirty, unorganized world where there once was a quality street drug market. Unfortunately this does not deter addicts, many who make risky moves trying to find one of the few remaining heroin dealers. I am sure police feel they were successful in dismantling a serious drug scene, but it has just been replaced by a messier, more violent one.