Today is a very special day. Well…it is to me…for it is the one year anniversary of when I…along with the help of my editor and favorite Auntie Christine…started this blog. Wow…I must say that year went by in the blink of an eye. It has been quite a ride…both literally and figuratively…and I’m almost home. Well…not home-home as in Boston… but my soon to be new home…the sunny land of ….. =)
I have to admit when I first started this blog I was really fucking nervous. I’m talking waiting on an aids test–what’s the results–type of nervous. I mean it’s not every day that I wake up and decide to bear my soul–my inner most thoughts–to even my closest friends and family…and now here I was about to put my shit show of a life on blast for the general public to read…
Remember, this was the very first time since I had been arrested that I was going to publicly address all of the nonsense that had happened. The real story…not just some made up bullshit that the media got a hold of and ran with. It was pretty nerve-wracking for me. I didn’t really know how the public would react to what I had to say. Shit…I didn’t know if people would even take the time to read what I had to say for that matter.
The only thing that I did know for certain was that once I plead guilty and was sentenced to prison…all bets were off. I no longer had to bite my tongue regarding everything, as I had so patiently and unwillingly done at the request of my attorney. I had so many different thoughts and emotions bottled up inside at the time–for some 15 months–I just had to get them all out. I didn’t care who the fuck heard what I had to say…just as long as someone did. So I finally said fuck it…what have I got to lose? Here goes nothing.
Despite my fuck it attitude, it certainly wasn’t easy at first to put my life on blast by any means. Truth be told, I didn’t sleep one bit on the night of my first post. I remember laying there, on my pathetic excuse of a bed, imagining the absolute worst. I must have played through every negative outcome possible in my mind that night…it was awful. I even woke up my cellie in the middle of the night to ask him if he thought I made a mistake. I certainly had regrets…that’s for damn sure.
Imagine you have something you’ve been dying to get off your chest. So you decide to confide in a friend. Imagine putting yourself out there… I mean really out there–like butt-ass naked–to someone you know well and trust. You’re telling this person something about you that no one else knows. Your semi-embarrassed with a slight hint of shame–fearing the outcome. You have no idea how whatever it is you’re telling this person is being perceived…yet you continue to let it all hang out…then you suddenly realize that the very person who you just straight-up told your whole life to…now looks at you differently because of what you told him or her…judging your every word perhaps. How would that feel? Or even fucking worse….the person wasn’t even fucking listening to what you had to say at all….like you just poured your heart out to this person and they were preoccupied. Yeah…imagine that? Shit…that’s how I fucking felt that night. Except I didn’t bear my thoughts to just one mere person who I knew and trusted. I laid it out there for the world to read…think it over.
I will say as time passed, however, nothing was ever as bad as that first night. The more blog entries I wrote, I found that it became easier and easier to just let it all out…no longer fearing the consequences or the possible reactions of others. I just wrote what was on my mind–not giving a fuck. I found that as long as I kept what I had to say raw as hell…real…and most importantly honest…it was nothing to put my shit on blast. I guess I figured that if I just came clean with all of the nonsense that I had done over the years without implicating others (I’m no rat) then I’d truly be free. I’d have no more skeletons in my closet. I’d have nothing left to hide. So when I walk out of here…I’d be me…take it or leave it. I could carry my head held high, knowing I owned up to all my bullshit and I didn’t point the finger at anyone else. And maybe…just maybe…if I shared my story in a way that didn’t glamorize anything…it might prevent someone else from making the same poor choices that I had made along the way…and that would be the greatest reward of all.
So many people ask me how I’m able to put myself out there in the way that I do… BALLS!!! haha! … I tell em’ I have big fucking balls…that’s how! haha! … I kid, I kid…kind of. Truth be told, I honestly don’t know the answer to that question. If I had to guess I’d say (since I’m currently locked up) I find my freedom in writing. I’ve come to find out over the past year that writing has been very therapeutic for me. It’s given me an opportunity, not only to let out my skeletons, but to come to terms with how fucked up I was living when I was free.
They say that hindsight is always 20/20… I couldn’t agree more. It wasn’t until I started traveling down memory lane…writing these blogs and really soul searching…that I finally became honest with myself about everything. Not just with my addictions to drugs (both selling them and doing them), women and the fast life…but in the way I was living my life in general. The truth hurts…I’ll say that much. I was a real asshole…a selfish fucking asshole. They say that assholes finish first–pffffff! Whose first? I’m in fucking prison. Tell that one to Tucker Max. Sure I can say I was young and reckless, but it’s no excuse. I fucked up…plain and simple.
But all of that nonsense is in the past. Not to be forgotten of course…but to be used as a lesson learned….a major wake up call if you will. I’ve come a very long way from the person I once was…again both literally and figuratively. I can say that proudly…and it’s in part because of this blog…and the people who take the time out of their busy lives to read what’s on my mind. Without this blog and the people who read it, I may not have grown into the man that I’m fast becoming…and for that I’m grateful. Which is why I feel that this day is a special day to me….
With that being said…I want to take this opportunity to give thanks…to YOU…the reader…whomever you may be. THANK YOU!! Whether I know you personally or not…thank you…thank you all for taking the time out of your hectic lives to read my stories. To those out there who share, re-post, re-tweet, or re-anything having to do with what I write–THANKS! To those who comment on my thoughts, whether it’s positive or negative feedback…I thank you. Regardless of what you may think of me or how I’ve lived my life thus far, I owe you all a great deal of gratitude. Without all of you reading, posting, and/or commenting on what I have to say, this would be a blog with no audience… a tree falling in the woods with no one to hear it… so I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. As much as I’d love to sit here and thank everyone personally, I’d be here all day. I DO want to go home sometime soon LOL.
Also…the most important thanks of all…
I want to say thank you again to the person who makes this all possible for me. Without her time, effort and insight…this blog wouldn’t even exist…and I may not be the person I am today. I’ll keep this as brief as possible, for she has to edit for spelling and grammar errors and I certainly don’t want to add to her work load…lol.
I’ve grown a great deal over the course of this past year…moreso than in any one particular year of my life. I’ve had ups. I’ve had downs. I’ve learned so much about myself. You gave me the opportunity to help me to help myself grow as a person…if that makes any sense…lol. And…I know it wasn’t easy for you to overlook all my f-bombs (even though I know you deleted some…lol). I know that I’ve expressed my overwhelming gratitude and thanks to you for creating and running this blog on my behalf in my absence many times before, but I’ll say it again…and with pleasure I might add….THANK YOU SO MUCH.
I hope you realize just how much I truly appreciate everything that you’ve done for me…not just with this blog and over the course of this past year…but over the course of my life. You have helped and inspired me in a way that I could never repay…although someday I will surely try. Everyone tells me all the time how lucky I am and how my Auntie Christine is the best. I couldn’t agree more…you are the best and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Remember that….
Love ~ Matthew
As you are well aware, I am incarcerated. In my free time…when I’m not working out or writing…I’m reading. I’ve had the pleasure of reading tons of books since I’ve been down. All sorts of genres. My favorite genre has to be crime fiction. Non-fiction autobiographies or memoirs come a close second. Okay, I’ll admit it…I love the Twilight series as well…LOL. A few of my favorite authors include, but are certainly not limited to: Chuck Palahniuk, Stuart Woods, Sidney Sheldon, Lee Child, Stephenie Meyer….I could go on for days.
Even though I am such a fan of all these authors…and many more…I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting any of them. Recently I had the pleasure of reading ALL ROADS LEAD TO ROME by Jimmy Blue Eyes. Needless to say, I loved it. It’s well written, captivating, intense and utterly raw….the very type of reading material which I love. Without giving the story away…. it’s about three lifelong friends who are involved in a series of crimes spanning 25 some odd years. Afterone of the three friends gets caught and turns informant for the FBI…it all goes sour…. picture “Goodfellas” in a Las Vegas setting. It’s great…I promise.
Until recently, I have yet to meet an author of a book in which I’ve not only read, but very much so enjoyed. Jimmy Blue Eyes is not only a great first-time author, but a personal friend of mine… so check out his book. I promise you wont be disappointed.
And don’t worry, my book will be on shelves as soon as I’m out of this shit hole! Stay tuned…….
You can purchase the book at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/All-Roads-Lead-Rome-Volume/dp/1475136994/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1337038970&sr=1-1 or at his website: www.jimmyblueeyessouthphilly.com
A bomb of epic proportions exploded in my luxury sedan on that warm evening in late September. Just how much damage was caused exactly…I didn’t know. I really didn’t want to know. I didn’t even let my former flame get another word in before I absolutely lost it.
I immediately went into an all out panic. Full on, flip the fuck out mode. It was almost as if a real bomb did explode in my vehicle…instead of a metaphorical one…and I was the screaming, crying, raving lunatic of an innocent bystander that got his leg blown off. Yeah…I was that bad…lol.
Try and picture if you will….
Who the fuck got arrested? What happened? When? Tell me everything! What the fuck do you mean there’s more? Am I fucked? I’m fucked aren’t I?! Are the cops after me? Did they come by the house? Fuck! fuck! fuck!!… did you tell them anything? Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have left rehab. Fuck! Drive faster will ya! I need to get the fuck home right now! Where’s my phone? I’m getting the fuck outta here! Go around this guy! Can you fucking drive kid!? (I yelled to an innocent driver out of my passenger window). Fuck! Babe, how did this happen? Do you think I’m fucked? I can’t go to fucking jail! I’m alright, right?– I stopped. They’ve got nothing on me. What the fuck is up with this fucking phone like?! (as I started to slam my phone repeatedly on my dashboard as if that would help the situation). Why doesn’t my fucking password work!? Fuck it! (as I throw my phone off my windshield in disgust). Give me your phone! Where is it? I need to get in touch with so and so…fuck! I don’t know his number! Why is my fucking phone locked!? (as I throw her phone the same way I threw mine). This isn’t happening right now. I’m going to lose it. This is why I fucking sniff pills…for times like these! I’m fucking going to jail? fuck. my. life….worst day ever……………… and so forth.
Embarrassingly enough, that was just a small preview of what went down after I heard that news. My little tirade of non-stop questions, swearing, answering my own questions and accusations lasted a good fifteen minutes. Out of control I was… I was sweating. I was punching things. I was spitting. I was cursing as if I didn’t know any other words…awful. I probably looked like a fucking maniac. Yep… that was me, Matty the maniac. I was fresh out of rehab, but I’m pretty positive that my ex thought I was very much still on drugs that night.
If I would have just stopped and taken a breath…calmed the fuck down and let my ex continue on with whatever it was she still had to say…instead of acting like a drugged up maniac…I would have found out that I may have jumped to conclusions a wee bit too fast. Lesson learned. This is why I made those rules from my previous blog DO NOT PANIC…so no one else repeats my mistakes.
In my defense (and I don’t have much to go on here…lol) I had literally just gotten out of rehab. I was a nervous wreck to begin with before I even got into my car that night. I was due to snap about something. It was inevitable. But it’s not all my fault… OK…well it is my fault I mean…but I had been on those fucking pills every single minute of every day for two years. That’s not even counting the many other years of heavy recreational use of other party drugs. I was fucked up. Just because I went into rehab and was technically “clean” doesn’t mean I was fully back to normal by any means. In fact I wasn’t even close. That would take some time. My mind was still definitely all over the fucking place…clearly.
When I heard my ex mention “friends arrested”, I automatically assumed the worst and I panicked. I thought it had something to do with me and the business I had previously been involved in. Paranoid much?… you have no idea. Chalk that up to one of the many side effects of coming off of drugs…more of which I’ll explain later and in future blogs to come. This is why I can’t stress enough about how badly drugs fuck your whole shit up.
I ended up finding out (after my little episode) that I was way off in my assumptions…well kind of. Yes, two people (that will remain nameless–pffffff) that I know–not that I was friends with–did get arrested…and yes…it was for selling roxies–the very same drug that I had been selling in mass quantities before rehab. However, thankfully enough, I had nothing to do with either of those two guys. Therefore (at the time) no police, feds, or any other law enforcement agencies knew my name or what trade I had been involved in…so I knew I was good…at least for the time being.
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all sunshine and butterflies once I realized I had been wrong in my assumptions. On the contrary, I was still slightly worried, but it wasn’t to the point where I was yelling obscenities out the window of my car to other vehicles on the highway. Sure…I was so relieved to hear that it wasn’t anyone I was close with…but deep down I knew that both of the jokers that had gotten pinched knew of what I used to deal in. So I was a little nervous that they may try and throw up a hail Mary to help save themselves by tossing my name around in conversations with law enforcement officials. The only solace I had was that I knew neither of them had any proof or credibility for that matter. But even still, I didn’t want my name out there like that.
As worried as I may have been, I tried my best to put the new information at hand in the back of my mind and try relaxing a little. One episode was certainly enough for that evening…and I didn’t see my ex holding up a lighter for an encore performance…so I played it cool. The two of us drove home in silence for the most part, enjoying the radio and the warm evening…until I asked her what she meant when she said “there’s more?”
After receiving what appeared to be a look of bewilderment…followed by a semi-smile from my ex…I came to find out a few more answers to some questions that I had…
While I was away, basking in the glory of drug rehab, my ex was hard at work. She took it upon herself to go through my blackberry (which is never a good thing) and make some adjustments to my social life. She decided it was in my–or her–best interest to call, text, and/or Facebook everyone and their mother who could possibly have any ties to roxies and all things drugs. I guess she told, or should I say threatened, all these randoms to stay the fuck away from me, to lose my number and to never give me drugs under any circumstances. I was fucking mortified to hear this.
I see now that her heart may have been the right place, but at the time I was not the least bit happy. I was trying to keep my drug addiction and my rehab stay under wraps and away from the general public…and here she was telling everyone in my phone. Her calling, texting, and fb messaging threats to an unknown…yet probably very large…amount of people really threw a wrench into my plans of secrecy. pffff.
Then, to add insult to injury, if that wasn’t bad enough…I came to find out that one of the people she called and messaged was none other than…YUP…you guessed it…one of the two newly arrested idiots that she had mentioned earlier…THAT was the “there’s more”. I can’t even begin to explain how badly I wanted to flip the fuck out when I heard this. I wanted to go home, pack a bag, and get as far away from Boston as possible…for good. It was if she turned on the panic switch. I was now certain that I was on the radar of the feds…and I was probably going to jail…awful.
I didn’t yell. I didn’t start to panic. I didn’t even show cause for concern when she told me what she had done. I honestly had no energy left to snap. I couldn’t argue even if I wanted to. All I really felt at that moment was a hopeless sense of despair. I just wanted to get home, eat, unwind and put the day behind me. That might have been the longest and most emotional roller coaster car ride in my life. Food and sleep–that’s all I wanted.
When we arrived back at my apartment I had kind of a fuck it attitude. I realized that everything was out of my hands and there was nothing that I could do. Tomorrow would be another day. I tried my hardest to forget what I had just heard and just enjoy the moment. Sure, I acted like a fucking lunatic, but I was free…I was with my girl…pfffff lol…and I had my favorite carrot cake. It wasn’t so bad after all.
The remainder of the night went off without hitch. We enjoyed our food and each others company. I’m pretty sure I ate the whole carrot cake myself. Then we showered and went to bed…yada yada wink…forty five to sixty seconds later I was on my roof smoking a cigarette while she slept…or laughed at how quick I lasted LOL!. Another side effect of coming off of pills…need I say more about how bad drugs can fuck your whole shit up? LOL
Finally I came back inside after enjoying my cigarette and I went to bed…or tried to anyways. I had a lot on my mind. So much had happened and I was pretty sure this was only the beginning. I didn’t know what the future held for me. It had definitely been a long day…one which I was extremely glad was over… I slept….
Only to be woken up about four hours later… I was in a pool of sweat… I had the chills… I felt like… like shit… it was almost as if…. wait… nah it couldn’t be…. it was almost as if the withdrawals were back….. FUCK.
To be continued……