In the summer of 2006, I did something completely audacious: I moved to Baltimore, Maryland. I know why I went, but I won’t get in to that right now. Suffice it to say that I put a lot of hope into a town whose slogan is “BELIEVE”. One might argue that perhaps I simply did not believe enough, or whatever.

What follows is a story of desperation, loneliness, retrospectively funny stories (though at the time deathly serious and life-threatening), and a boy who became a man who then wanted to be a boy again. Situated 2 blocks from the Inner Harbor, a place tourists refer to as “the only place to go in Baltimore” (and they’d be wrong), I strategically masterminded a plan to destroy my own life; in this regard I succeeded admirably. Despite the fact that I survived on Mike and Ike and cashews out of my apartment vending machine, I still bought a few damned souls from the mob of the homeless a pack or two of their smokes of choice. They were always appreciative but seldom happy. I guess that’s just the way things are. At night, I would ride a borrowed mountain bike down city streets I ought to have stayed away from and turn down offers I was correct to turn down.

All things considered, I should be dead, but I am not. With that I invite you to live in Charm City (or at least read about it — seriously, stay away from that place).

Part 1: Introduction To a Dream
Part 2: Glass and Fire: Living is Hard Work
Part 3: The Block
Part 4: World: Fucked

I may add more in the future, but for now this is a saddening tome of boyhood ignorance. I think about it quite often when I retrace familiar streets that a younger me so readily braved; I wasn’t afraid to die, then. Today I just like being comfortable.