It's Time to Face What You Most Fear

So in 1991 I had come out of having a lot of problems and I moved up to Salt Lake city to be closer to my spiritual guide. I was thrilled. I had lived outside of the nest before but this was going to be my first place alone. I recall driving down 1st avenue in Salt Lake and looking at a studio a block away from downtown. I was coming apart with excitement and satisfaction that I had finally become independent. I would be paying the bills and dealing with a land lord. To describe the place, it wasn't much. It was one large room with vomit colored carpet and a walk in closet and small kitchen. After seeing the place for the first time my friend Lance suggested to not have any razor blades lying about in case you flow with the ambiance and cut yourself. The first night was an experience. The radiator made what I would affectionately call "The African drum montage." It created this very loud banging noise. In fear of it exploding I slept ion the ground in the walk in closet. This lasted months. I then gathered courage and moved up to the roll away bed. The box springs felt great. Did I mention that a mattress was not provided. I found that my spine felt rather comforting directly in between two rows of metal springs. I lived here for nine months. The winter was brutal. Cold. I met a lot of interesting people that shared the building. I met one fellow named Eric who was rather insane. I first ran in to him on my floor where he was conveniently tripping on acid and nearly destroying the screen door in the process. Later he would chew glass and show me how he could stand on his head. Some of Eric's roommates tore apart the coin operated washer in the basement and bought cigarettes with the quarters.