My life centered around my addiction to drugs. I received respect in the drug trade because I tried hard not to lie or cheat the other thugs. My resume helped me pick up a job with a limb of the Mexican mafia. I went off to Louisiana and lived amongst them. These guys were extremely violent to their enemies and let me know that, for a fear factor. They were set up in a ghetto where the police were hesitant to patrol. I was the only white guy around. One white guy drove through to buy some crack and was robbed of his money. They spoke Spanish to one another, and I wish I'd paid more attention in Spanish class. I saw some very sick and helpless people living there. I was asked to give a ride to a girl who stayed there as a prostitute to feed her crack addiction. She had lost all hope. I told her there was always hope in Jesus Christ. I was in a deep, dark place but still hadn't totally forgotten the Light.
I call this inner circle, Club Meth. The people in Club Meth don't associate with the real world much, because of fear and paranoia. The nucleus of the club is the cook; he receives praise and glory for making the meth that feeds the Club's appetite. The cook has power over the members who are on meth. Girls surrender their bodies for meth, and members steal from friends and family members to stay high. The potency and easy availability of meth trade made it an overnight success for Satan and his clan. Close friends who are on meth can't be trusted. Even the family of an addict cannot trust their loved one. It is easy to recognize serious club members by their rapid weight loss. Meth will deteriorate body and soul.