I had a friend back in the day who regularly caught The Fear , and I carried around a bottle of Seroquel just for him . Fucker would be breaking windows and yelling about my pot to murder him , but when I deployed the Seroquel he popped it in his mouth without question even time .

He was a damn good man and I feel real grateful that I got to spend so much timer with. . He killed himself in 2009 . here's a cool poem the wrote

He was just another black son

hangin’ on a door that only opens

once the darkness descends

and I guess for most

this life just depends

on where we're born

by the time it ends

four seasons short of rebirth

and three to the wind

it’s the devil's job to clench

tight round the girth

makin’ sure we never transcend

our estimated worth

who are ya my son

and what have you been

since ya first heard the hollow ring in words

and knew, that you could not . . . pretend

Ooohh yes, ooo my

all these lessons were bought

with savings that no one

could afford to spend

L Rob Hubbard