In 1986 as I slept on the streets of NYC, in my pocket, a 5 shot 38, its name "Bandit". Armed with a crack pipe, a pen, and paper, I wrote a book of poetry about crack, heroin murder and crime. I wrote poetry about the things I saw. It named it, "Crack Street Victim Lane".
The poems were written during a drug addicted, homeless life, on the streets of NYC. The memoirs naturally appeared as I was publishing the poems. The result, a book, Drugs Street Life Prison Murder. This part of my life represents hell on earth its survival, and the birth of my journey into psychology, the power of my mind, neuroscience, and gratitude to God, for my ability to speak about it as the past. Surviving drug and alcohol addiction is not easy. I have had many near-death experiences and could easily have been in prison for life.
The journey begins at age 12 with dropping out of school and being committed and confined to a mental institution for one year. The NYS Psychiatric Institute, due to violent behavior. I escaped twice. It progresses into street life, marijuana, and alcohol. At age 13, I am introduced to heroin injections, alcohol, and theft. From this I graduate to cocaine, street life and prison.
Eventually I become a heroin addict and criminal. On my 16th birthday I wake up in a cell on Rikers Island, the worst jail in NYC. Later that year, still 16, I had my first drug overdose, more would follow. At age 18, I am sentenced to 5 years in maximum security prison. I beat someone with a bat. Upon release from Sing Sing Prison in 1982, I return to street life, heroin, cocaine, and alcohol. I meet Joey, who introduced me to crack cocaine.
Joey
They found his body in a garbage bag.
He played a game, it was not tag.
Joey always had a smile,
but being sneaky was his style.
What a shame the way he died,
inside my mind, I hear his cries.
Because of crack, Joey told you lies
owed people money, Joey died.
This was murder, not a joke.
They tortured him, they made him choke.
By Samuel Arcelay
I become a Crack Head, then homeless and sleep on the street for two years. I become degraded, experience violence, murder, and cocaine psychosis. I have been shot at, chased with knives, brutally beaten, while terrorized by a vicious dog. The guy that beat me up, Tito, he is dead. Shot 3 times in the chest with a 45. I piss on his grave. Fuck him.
I have a master's degree in lying and stealing, a doctorate in deception and a PHD in seeing a hurt look on my mother's face. I have casually walked over dead bodies and nonchalantly walked away from shotguns and guns that were pointed in my face. Ready to die, I walked past 2 police officers who pointed their guns at me as I held a knife. They stepped to the side and let me pass. I guess they did not shoot because I was a kid.
Drugs Street Life Prison Murder, is a memoir of a 25-year-old, homeless, crack head, dope fiend, alcoholic, x- con, thief, sneak, liar, cheat - who overcomes it all. On September 28, 1988 at 8:30 PM, I used drugs alcohol and nicotine for the last time. I did not use any medication or any drug treatment program. I used my mind. I remained in the same community with the same drug infested people places and things. At the time of this writing, 32 years later, I remain drug alcohol and nicotine free. I am 62 years old.
In explicit detail, accompanied by poems, illustrations, and personal photographs I make this piece of my life public.
Update: 1 year later I have published my second book "User Manual for Your Mind" an introduction to the human operating system. There is more to me than this true story of my unfortunate past life.
Please check out the description page. Thank you.
https: //www.amazon.com/dp/B09KNGFH19