![]() ![]() ![]() When we arrive at the police station, the cop escorts me to a lady who has the exciting job of taking my mug shot. well, I haven't had any contact with them since I left Paradise eight months ago. I have no money, no real friends, and my family. I lean my head against the back seat of the squad car, wondering how I'm gonna get out of this. I'm wondering if paradise is just some word in the dictionary with the definition: this doesn't fucking exist. But then again, Paradise, where I grew up, wasn't paradise either. Being told when to shit, shower, shave, eat, and sleep isn't my idea of paradise. Nothing is worse than being locked up like a caged animal and relinquishing control of your own life. Living on the streets sounds mighty tempting right now. Looking back, maybe it wasn't the wisest choice. It was either keep a roof over my head and ignore the illegal stuff going on around me, or live on the streets. Okay, I admit I was living in a drug house. Except I didn't smoke, inhale, ingest, snort, shoot up, or buy the shit. This time I'm getting arrested for drugs. I got locked in juvie for a year anyway, mostly because I pled guilty to the hit-and-run drunk driving charges. As I sit in the back of a squad car with handcuffs digging into my wrists, I think back to the first time I got arrested, almost two years ago.Īnd I was arrested for a crime I didn't commit.ĭidn't matter, though. In fact, I think I'm one of those guys destined to always be caught in the crossfire. Unfortunately I've never been one of those people. ![]()
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