I went ahead and contacted the City of Tampa’s building division just to see what they would say. This is their response:

“The use of shipping containers for a structure would be permittable provided the structure is NOT portable. The structure must be permanently anchored to a foundation per the Florida Building code 2007 edition with 2009 supplements. The structure must also meet all other applicable building code requirements and City of Tampa site code requirements.”

Funny. What’s Florida got against movable homes? I would think they know the difference between steel and aluminum. Anyway, so it looks like I should be able to do what I’d like to do, as long as the home appears permanent.

However, I have shifted gears a little bit since I first started writing this article. I’m the Queen of Flexible. If I can find a better and/or easier way to do something, I’m all over it. I have decided to build my container home outside of the U.S.

In-between wanting to build in Tampa and now wanting to build in another country, I’d also played with the idea of building one in Hawaii. For those of you wanting to stay in the U.S., Hawaii is very open to your container home project. Hawaii also had many other positive qualities as well. There were many very interesting Meetup groups in Hawaii, great jobs, rent not as expensive as you would think, and in a good location for traveling to other places in the Pacific and Asia. However, it is in severe violation of my natural disaster rules. *Smile* It is still a possibility for me, however, I’ve moved on from the idea.

Without, recounting my entire article about great countries to live in outside of the U.S., I’ll just say this is a container home project and one of the benefits of building a container home is portability. So I’m keeping that in mind when choosing a place to start the project. Even if I decide later I need to move on from my starting point, I can do so fairly easily.

With this having been said, let’s get back the project. *Smile* I’ve been working on assessing my power needs and find it to be pretty fun. There are low power freezers and fridges now, definitely low power lighting and other electronics. An eco home can have all the modern conveniences using less power. I love it!

I also have this idea that it may be more efficient to have separate solar systems for different things which would mean not having one central power link into the house. This may turn out not to be a good idea but I’m playing with it for a little bit. I would imagine, having a small home made solar panel just for daytime-only charging of any type of rechargeable battery or portable device (like cell phones, mp3 players and what not). I would also have a separate system just for lighting; a separate system (and the largest) for the fridge, washer, composting toilet (I may put this on it’s own system too), and AC. Finally, there would be a separate system for televisions, computers, film/video equipment, and recording studio equipment. The reason why I’m thinking of breaking the systems up is because I feel I can make much cheaper systems for the items that consume the least amount of power and would like to purchase a more powerful system for the items that use the most power. This way I can buy a smaller, cheaper system. It may also be possible to setup a small scale hydro-power system in addition to solar power.

I saw this excellent instructable with step-by-step instructions on how to make a wind turbine using magnets to create electricity. I loved the simplicity of it and I think the science of it can be applied in other ways as well.

Since I first started writing this article weeks ago, I have learned so many new things. I’ve discovered the wonderful world of Aquaponics and I’ve seen other applications of the coil/magnet generator used in the above mentioned wind turbine setup. Aquaponics is truly amazing and I feel like I’ve just been handed the keys to my own supermarket without the poisonous products inside! For those of you unfamiliar with Aquaponics, it is the blending of Hydroponics (growing plants without solid) and Aquaculture (basically fish farming). When combined, the fish waste provides nutrients for the plants and the plants clean the water for the fish. This self contained system can be used to grow edible fish and plants. You can even grow your own fish food like Duckweed and Algae so you can save money on fish food and spend more time making sure the fish water is safe for the fish and nothing is destroying your plants.

I also stumbled upon an article or two where people have built a small scale coil/magnet generator and attached a home made water wheel to it placed the device in a small creek or where there is running water to generate electricity. Based on what I read, this produced a sufficient amount of electricity for their home for years. I’m thinking of testing this in my Aquaponics system. The system does require a pump which will need electricity. So I plan to use the energy created from the water going back into the fish tank to generate electricity to either power the pump or recharge a batter that powers the pump.

I have also been considering dropping 1 or 2 containers 10 feet underground as storage and emergency shelter. This depends on where I’m living, however.

So, I’ll review some of the tasks that would need to be addressed:
Water system: I’m thinking of a well and/or rain water catch to an underground cistern that then goes through a whole house filtration system for the kitchen and bathroom sinks, shower/tub and washing machine. I also think having sensors to turn off the water when nothing is in front of it, is a good ideas as well.
Power system: Solar and hydro (wind if possible)
Garbage disposal: I’d like to build a simple 55 gallon drum composting system for organic waste, and I still need to figure out what to do about non-organic waste disposal.
Independent food supply: I plan to setup a rather large scale aquaponics system that can also be used for trade to get things I might need and chickens.
Food storage: There are a few low energy fridges/freezers available and I am thinking about dropping a 20′ container into the ground as a cellar.
Mail delivery: I still need to research this.
Human waste: I will buy a composting toilet.
Cooking: I’ve decided to try a gas cooker (I was thinking of a two-eye hot plate but those things are like 800+ Watts), solar cooker, smoker, grill, earth oven (I’m inclined to experiment with a Fresnel heated oven/stove), and/or rocket stove.
Lighting: I think LED and/or CFL lighting will be good. (note- I’m just not big on using a lot of lights. It’s not something I consciously do, I just noticed there is never more than one light on in my house after dark. So I think I won’t have any problems with low energy lighting use. I also like the idea of installing motion sensor to turn lights off and on.
Internet: I know I can do satellite internet but I need to research my internet options more.
Computing:I’m going to build low energy computers (I’ve been building PCs since the mid-90s and have a plan for a super low energy PC) I tend to use two computers for my creative work; one for administrative/entertainment computing and one for video, graphics design and music recording. The Pico PSU components from mini-box.com are going to come in handy! :)
Landscaping: I’ll be researching what naturally grows in the area in which I plan to live and landscape based on native plants. This is a little different but when I went to my cousin’s house, I saw that every area where Americans would put flowers or some other aesthetic plant, her Jamaican husband had planted food. I joked with my cousin; telling her they were landscaping with food. In her rose bed there is cabbage and collard greens; half of their backyard is corn and the other half is sugar cane. Where one would normally have hedges around the inside of a fenced yard, there is an assortment of veggies all around the house.

Because I’m a lover of technology, I may even toss a few solar powered cameras around the place and do a little live broadcasting.

Seems like a lot to do but most of these things I hope to have completed for before I make a move anywhere. All I would need to do is install them when I get where I’m going. I plan to buy containers in the US and put my belongings and anything duty free in one container and everything I have to pay a fee for in another and ship the containers to where ever I’ll be.

So what’s the plan?

Land:
Ideally I’d like to build a container home on land very close to a suburban or urban area. It’s not really my goal to isolate myself from the rest of the city. I’d still like to be as close as possible to my family and friends, easily accessible to emergency help and still relatively close to hospitals, fire and rescue, and police. In other words, I don’t want to be too far away from help. So I’m planning to find out the “where” and “how” on building a container home in and around Tampa; naturally.

When considering land, I definitely want to be able to plug into the grid for electricity and use municipal water if I need to. The plan is not to but I would like those options available. I also have to be careful with flooding areas, wild life (gators and such) and mean people. *Smile*

Containers:
So far, I’ve been designing my floor plans based on the 40′ shipping container. However I would rather buy a longer container. Ideally, I’d like to use as few containers as possible and use the space well. So far, I think 4 will do. I know many people are using one container but a home 8 feet wide is not going to work for me. So I plan to put two containers together for the bottom floor and two together for the top floor. I find myself not wanting to be responsible for more than 4 shipping containers. Four is pushing it already.

My challenge then will be to find out how to seal the seam between the two tightly and how to create these joined containers in such a way that I am still able to ship them should I need to move. I did see that a California company creates multi-unit container buildings that have a water tight reusable rubber seal and the units still retain their functionality as shipping containers. That is what I want.

To my delight, today I found a website that lists a plethora of shipping container types including photographs. I felt like a kid in a candy store. Truly there is no limit to what can be done with these shipping containers. This was a great moment for me because I’m all about going the easy route. I found there are many other types of shipping containers available that makes needing to alter a container almost unnecessary.

For instance, I didn’t know there were containers types with one side open or both sides open that can still be shipped. Or there exists super cool containers with 4 doors on one side and the standard 2 doors on one end. There are sorts of configurations; flat rack, flat platform, open-top, open-side, side-door, ventilated, insulated, standard, etc.

To browse the many shipping container types, visit: The Intermodal Container Web Page by Matt Hannes

Internal Necessities:
I put together a list of necessary items for my container home (doesn’t include furnishings or structural elements):

Kitchen Sink
Small Fridge
2 Eye electric cooker/stove top.
Composting toilet
One piece shower stall
Bathroom sink
Air Conditioning
Washer/Dryer combo

I have to really think about my daily routine and what I do from day to day in my home. It is pretty fun to learn things about yourself that you didn’t notice before. For instance, I spend very little time in the kitchen. The idea of having a large kitchen is of no importance to me. I only need a little space to cook and prepare meals. So my kitchen will not be very large. I imagine it will have some counter space for the sink and the cooker/hot plate, a small energy efficient fridge and a cutting board/preparation island, a floor standing shelf rack for dishware, and peg strip for hanging pots and pans. That’s it.

I decided the bathroom should be upstairs and accessible from each of the two rooms and from the hallway. The composting toilet I’d like to get has a vertical vent post that will go out of the top of the container roof. Also, as much as I would love to have a claw foot tub in my container home, a one piece shower may be the best solution (I don’t know, if I can work the claw foot in, I will). The most annoying thing in my current home is the massive bathroom sink. The thing is insane. I can barely move around because of it. So needless to say, the bathroom sink in my container home will be one of those cool bowl fountain looking things that uses little space.

I recently learned about the ductless mini split air conditioner and think it will be a great option for my air conditioning needs. The Coolerado M30 may also be a usable option. I can not do without AC in Florida. As for the luxuries, I’m going to make every effort to have a washer and dryer in the house. Not having one at home is just not fun. But I’ll only consider it after the other necessities.

I’m going to try to hold off on too much focus on the containers for a little while and spend time learning about Florida building codes and looking for acceptable land. I’ve been searching for land a little bit and so far it’s being a little concerning. The land prices are a little high but it may be due to the quality of the sites on which I’ve been looking. The search continues….

I have always made an effort to travel light however, my trip to Germany and Ireland in 2007 was the first time I officially traveled as a filmmaker. I took with me my Panasonic DVX100B, full sized tripod, mini tripod, one full sized high wattage light, 15″ laptop, and a whole host of other gear I never used. It was the first time I’d carried a large suitcase as well. The suitcase needed to be large enough for my full sized tripod to fit collapsed. That’s still a pretty big bag. I didn’t like it at all.

So now I’m planning what looks like a trip to Singapore and Thailand and I have to travel light. Here are some of the issues I faced on my last international trip.

1. I worried about overweight baggage fees every time I had to catch a flight. At my home airport, I had to run to a gift shop, buy another bag, and transfer some items from the large bag to the new smaller bag to avoid paying $80 in overweight baggage fees. Later, I ended up having to pay $250 Euros on my trip from Ireland to Frankfurt because of my overweight bag. That was almost $200 Euros more than the actual cost of the plane ticket! **The airline was Lufthansa which does well on long flights (I flew from the US to Frankfurt with the same bags with no charges) but does not do well on short flights (I guess you have to travel damn near naked on short flights).

2. I had to lug around a heavy bag and my backpack. I did plan ahead with this as best as possible but the reality is, my bags were heavy. The smaller bag I had to buy at the airport fit on top of the larger bag and the large bag had wheels so I could just pull them around but again, the bags were heavy and I felt like I was running a marathon anytime I had to move them. I also stayed in a 3 story hotel in Germany with no elevators (yep I was on the top floor), and a 3 story B&B in Dublin with no elevators of course (and on the top floor again). So it was quite unpleasant trying to get my bags up and down the stairs. My backpack was also heavy because in it were my Panasonic DVX100B, 15″ laptop, batteries, tapes, microphones, etc.

3. I drew too much attention for my taste by using my fancy camera and carrying around my tripod. This by far became the biggest issue for me, although I had no idea I would be bothered by this prior to this trip. This is more of a personal preference if you will. I know many filmmakers who have no issues with drawing attention while they film, it comes with the job. However, I do not like this at all. For me there are some safety concerns as well as creative concerns. Some things to consider… I was grilled at the airport in Frankfurt about whether or not I’d filmed anything when I went to the Reeperbahn. My camera is always thoroughly checked at the security check points. This means pulling out all your gear for everyone at the check point to see (Not very safe; especially when they do it while you have to take your shoes off and on and you can’t glue your eyes to your stuff).

A funny thing… I was carrying around my tripod in it’s bag while in Dublin and I was riding the buses a lot. I got on this one bus and the driver asked me “Is that a gun?”. I had to laugh, it did look like a rifle bag. But what was really interesting is that the driver was serious but he didn’t seem at all concerned if it were a gun. Funny those Irish folks are. :)

My grandmother used to say, “When one domino falls, eventually so will the rest”. At the time I thought she was just talkin’. You know how old people are. They always goin on bout somethin’.

Mudda use to sit on the bed in her one room shack ranting about this and that. Preachin’. Nobody don’t want to hear that shit all the time. What did she know? She never even been out in the world. One day I just up and told her that. She looked at me in disgust like I didn’t know what I was talking about.

“But Mudda, you sit here in this shack or out on the steps by yo self, day in and day out.

Sometimes you get the notion to sit out by Macios in front of that wall and watch the world go by. Nobody don’t speak when they see you sittin there cause they all know you got that sorrow in your heart and they don’t want to hear that shit. Just like I don’t want to hear that shit.“
“That’s just what yo mamma used to tell me. And like yo mamma, you can’t see a lesson when it’s being given to you. You gots to learn the hard way or never at all.”
“What lesson you think you givin people when you tell them bout the baby them clans killed right out yo womb? Or when you tell people bout watchin yo daddy rape yo sistahs? Or when you talk bout your mamma hanged from that poplar tree for stealin food for yall to eat?” A tear rolled down Muddas leathery face and her eyes swung slowly down in defeat and weariness. I thought to myself at the time, “Lesson… hmph. The only lesson I’m learnin is that no body gives a damn bout yo life’s woes so you betta off keepin’ it to yo self”.

When Mudda died, she died alone. I wasn’t trying to stay round no place like Suga Hill. Wasn’t nothin’ sweet about it. I didn’t care bout how Mudda would get on without me. I was her only grandchile. My own mamma ran off with that man, Luther B from Blue City. He use to come round flashin his smile and his money. Oh he wasn’t rich but when you as po as us, somebody with twenty dollars seem like a millionare to you. At least when you just a kid anyway. He didn’t like Mudda. Talkin bout she bring the rest of us down with her sorrows. He was right about that. After a while it occurred to me that he didn’t like me neither. He used to want to take my mamma everywhere but didn’t want me to come. My mamma never even had a problem with that. She never said she didn’t love me but she just always seemed like it didn’t matter if I was there or not. She sometimes used the same tired ole shit bout how I looked just like my daddy and maybe to her that was an excuse to not want to deal with no chile. The folks in Suga Hill say my mamma planned to kill my daddy but the law and the courts say she was defendin herself. She told them he was crackin her head tryin to open it up and kill her so she had to stab him wit that butcher knife. They said he was dead afta the third time she stabbed him. But she stabbed him some twenty seven times. But they said she was in shock. I have seen something in my mamma’s eyes. When she got mad at me, she seemed sometimes glad I did somethin’ wrong so she could beat the tar out of me. I saw a smirk on her face sometimes as she brought the extension chord down cross my back. I wasn’t sad to see her go when she left. She left me with Mudda who protested and threatened to send me to a home. My mamma didn’t give a damn bout that. But Mudda couldn’t send me away. She was lonely. Who would she moan and groan to if I left? So she kept me round. I didn’t even care bout her. I didn’t care bout nobody. Nobody cared bout me. Mudda was so old and she could hardly do for herself. I would just let her soil herself instead of helpin her to the bathroom. She would cry sometimes cause she had no dignity left. She was stuck with a nine year old grandson who didn’t even care bout her. I would sometimes see her fall down when she misplaced her cane and I would stand over her and laugh. Wouldn’t even help her up. It was only a matter of time before I would just leave and let her die alone and unloved.

I stopped going to school after my mamma left. Hell, who was going to make me go? I hated school anyway. I hung out with them Bronson boys two shacks down. There was six of them aged nine to fifteen and everybody within 100 miles was scared of them. They didn’t have mercy on nobody. They didn’t care if you was eight or eighty, if you had something they wanted, they was gone get it from you. One time I was wit them when they wanted that gold pocket watch from Busta Joe round Greenville. It didn’t even work and they knew it. But he had somethin’ they thought he shouldn’t have. No one supposed to have nothing more valuable than what they had. Busta Joe was this sixty year old man worked for the railroad all his life. He lived in a shack just like ours but over in Greenville. He didn’t really have more than we had, but he had that watch. His daddy won it in a card game and gave it to Busta when he died. Bout the only thing Busta had that was worth anything cept his life. Them Bronson boys and me took em both. When Busta wasn’t workin, he would go to the Porta Bar for a drink and some cards. It was easy to find him stumblin long the road in the early mornin. That’s when we was waitin for him in the dark. I was taken by surprise in the rush of the moment. The Bronson boys rushed on him before I could even know it was time to get down. They didn’t even have to beat him over the head with that tire iron that many times. But they did cause that’s what they like to do. I saw then it wasn’t even bout the watch. They beat him like he was payin’ for all that they were ever angry bout in life. Then I felt my own rage and didn’t feel the need to control it that night. I got my turn with the iron. I didn’t care no more bout Busta than I did Mudda so it was not surprise that it was not hard for me to pummel his body with that tire iron. That was the beginnin’ of the end for me.

After they found Busta Joe’s body, the police was at everybody’s door askin bout it. After they came to my door and left, Mudda said she knew it was me who did it. I let her know then she could end up the same way if she keep talkin’. That night I packed what little I had and slid away in the dark. I never looked back.

I ended up in New York City. A big change from Suga Hill in Alabama. But I hit the ground runnin when I got there. I didn’t waste no time hustlin’ and it wasn’t nothin for me to get paid and take care of myself. When I was fourteen, I got a gun when I robbed this man’s house. I even shot him with it. I laughed about it. Imagine that getting shot with our own gun in your own house. But after I got the gun, I entered into a whole new playin field. Now instead of house burglaries and petty theft, I could graduate to all out armed robbery.

The stakes got higher when I decided to enter into the drug life. Hell it seemed like the natural thing to do. I met this cat name Ceebo who sold heroin in the Bronx. He was this wild muthafucka who just sometime stand on the roof top and shoot at people on the street. How I met Ceebo is when some cats was holdin him up tryin to take his money and drugs. They beat him down in the alley and stayed round to humiliate him. When I saw them, they was pissin on him and laughin. At the time, I didn’t know what was goin on when I saw them in the alley. From where I was standin, it looked like a little girl to me. I’m not sure why I even gave a damn if it was but I did and I pull my gun on them cats. They was so scared they ran from the ally with their dicks still hangin out they pants. When I pulled Ceebo up, I had to look closely but I could see Ceebo was a boy. It was hard to tell even up close though. His face looked like a girls and his hair was long and wavy and looked taken care of. Plus he was small for fourteen and looked a bit frail. I could tell it was hard for Ceebo to thank me but when someone see’s you getting pissed on, you have to say somethin’. Ever since then, you never see us apart. I stayed with him in this abandoned building. He tought me everything I needed to know bout drugs. He hooked me up with his boss who hooked me up with a job. Cept my job wasn’t sellin heroin. It was my job to protect Ceebo while he was dealin and pop folks who needed to be popped for the boss. It wasn’t no thing for me, I can’t even remember a time when I would have gave a damn about killin somebody. I wasn’t poppin someone like no every day or nothing but I had more than my share of blood on my hands. Then one day the boss asked me to pop somebody. Looking back now, I was all too eager to murder that day and I don’t know why.

“I want you to pop Ceebo” I watched the words come out of his crusty lips like they was razor blades. I could feel the muscles in my face turn to jelly. I must not have heard the name right. I laughed a bit.
“S’cuse me, what was the name again?” I laughed a little more.
“Ceebo, Nigga you heard me!” and I knew he was serious. His face was hard as stone and I had to mimic that.
“What I’m poppin Ceebo for? He yo best man out there?” I asked actin like I was hard when inside I was holdin back the tears.
“My BEST MAN been stealin from me. End of story. You don’t want to do it? I can get somebody else on it but don’t expect you won’t have a bullet with your name on it” He scowled. I knew if I didn’t agree to do it, I’d be dead before I finished tellin him so.
“Yeah I’ll do it. That’s what I do, right?” I loaded up my gun right in front of him so he would know I meant business and walked out but not before sayin “He’ll be dead before midnight”.

I waited round the corner for Ceebo. I could see him walking from down the road. I was thinkin about just poppin him right when he close to me without saying shit. But I couldn’t do that to him. I had thought for a second bout not doin it. But what would happen if I didn’t was worse to me than dealin with killin him. I knew how to deal with killin somebody. But I didn’t know how to deal with worryin bout gettin killed. I thought about if he said he didn’t do it. I would kill him anyway. No matter what he said, he was getting killed anyway.

My heart was racin the closer he got. I waited patiently, and when he rounded the corner, he ran into the barrel of my gun. He just laughed. The times I’d pointed my gun at him before, we had been jokin. Little did he know just how serious I was right now.

“What you doin sneakin up on a mothafucka like that?” he laughed again.
“Are you stealin from Mac?” He could see the coldness in my eyes and his face fell low. He backed up a little and leaned against the wall.

“It was for us. So we could get out of here, man. Like we used to talk about…” I wasn’t expectin that. I guess what I wasn’t expectin was for him to care about me. We hung out all the time but I never thought about him caring bout me. Now he was tellin me he stole from Mac cause he wanted to take us away from all this. And I know it is true. We had spent many nights talkin’ bout gettin outa here. Goin to live some place quiet. We had both talked bout where we came from and I had to admit I may not have survived his life at all. But here I am with my gun on him for trying to make what we talked about possible.

That didn’t stop me from shootin him. That’s what he gets for trying to save someone that can’t be saved and caring bout someone that don’t want to be cared about.

After that, I hadn’t dealt with it as well as I thought I could. I started usin heroin, junk, horse, black tar, brown sugar, smack. Once it got back to Mac that I was usin, he said I was no longer needed. He said he wouldn’t have no junkies workin’ for him. Shit I didn’t care, it left more time for me to shoot up. I robbed to pay for my heroin and there was nothin’ better in the world than heroin. All I wanted to do was shoot up. I never loved anything in my life except heroin. It’s the only thing that ever made me feel good. My addiction started some five years ago the same night I popped Ceebo. I took the heroin he was carrying. I felt at that point I could do anything. I had obviously already decided it was the beginnin of the end for me and that there was no way I’d live a life different than what I was livin at the moment. At fourteen, I had already decided to suffer for the rest of my life. When I started usin heroin, I was only making sure of it. I did whatever I had to do to get what I needed. I robbed people, stores, whoever, whenever. I even started prostitutin when robbin just wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter who with. Lonely women, businessmen, anyone who could pay me enough for even just one hit.

When I started prostitutin, that’s when I saw my mother again. Turned out she had become a rather well known prostitute round town. They called her Bittersweet. She came to me as she heard there was a new boy round and he was gettin pretty popular. She couldn’t have that. She didn’t even recognize me. Hell since the last time she saw me I was only eight or nine years old. At the time I saw her, I was sixteen. She approached me in an ally after I’d just been done with Lester, a regular. I was shocked to see her. I knew it was her right away. She looked pretty much the same but just slightly different. More worn down and instead of how her hate only came out at certain times, it seemed like it was more part of who she is all the time.

“Bittersweet don’t like no new nigga on her street!” she rhymed like some old hoe from a 70’s movie.
“what happened to Luther B?” I asked. He was the man from Blue City she ran off with when I was little.
“How you know bout Luther B? She scowled like I had just aired her dirty laundry.
“How can I forget the man that saved me from you?” I snapped back.
“Earl…is that you?” she said, her voice gettin surprisingly tender. She walked over to me and studied my face in the dim light. “I didn’t even recognize you! You’ve grown so much. How ole you now? Seventeen? Eighteen?”

“I’m sixteen.” I started walking away from her. I didn’t get all choked up from seeing her again. I felt less for her than I did for Mudda, Busta Joe, and anyone else I’ve known. I left her in the alley calling my name and beggin me to come back and reaquaint myself with her. That was three years ago. Last I heard, Bittersweet was found in a dumpster with her throat slashed. Sometimes I wished I’d done it. I just picked up my shit from this new dealer I been goin to lately. Ooooh I can’t wait to try this. I damn near ran back to my place. It wasn’t much, pretty much livin in an abandoned buildin with some other junkies. I picked up a needle off the floor in the hallway. I can’t stand when people throw away good needles. I plopped down on my bed which was nothin but a metal cot covered with newspapers. I was so excited about this hit that I was shakin.

I looked over my body trying to decide which vein I should use. Most of the veins where I usually shoot up in have collapsed. I am forced to unwrap the puss soaked bandage around my foot, uncovering sores that refuse to heal. I search for a vein I think will be ok. Ahhhhhhhh joy. I sit feelin the effects. Nothin mattered anymore. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t eaten in a few days. Couldn’t keep anything down anyway. It didn’t matter that my body had withered away and is fallin apart before my eyes. It didn’t matter that my teeth had rotted out and my body was covered in sores. It didn’t matter that I had become one of the fallen.