Note: I posted this entry in the original Devon’s Diary from a Kinko’s in Providence, R.I., where I stayed last night. At that point, I had cheated either death or arrest many times on my meth-addled road trip, including at the Providence Holiday Inn, where I had spent the night because, in my shattered, exhausted state, I was unable to locate the apartment for which I had paid a year’s worth of rent in advance. After refusing to leave at checkout time, I was escorted from the hotel by four police officers, who immediately let me go.
Despite their pleas to the contrary, I insisted on leaving my laptop, cell phone and wallet, credit cards and all, in the room, saying I no longer needed them, that I simply going to walk the earth — a line I borrowed from Samuel L. Jackson’s character in Pulp Fiction. Ludicrous as that decision was, it would turn out to be a very fortunate one. All I kept on me was cash and the keys to the van I had rented. Roaming the city on foot, I found my apartment, let myself in with the keys, which the landlady had left in the mailbox, and proceded to do an “installation” that mostly involved strategically placed cigarette butts and/or burnt incense sticks — I can’t remember — and various streams of my urine. (That I do remember.)
Needless to say, this entry, which consisted entirely of appropriated text, freaked readers out, especially since after leaving Kinko’s, I was only able to update the diary a week later from Taunton State Hospital in Massachusetts by dictating a brief entry to my brother, who was one of several people I gave the password.
I just saw a client this morning who saw me during a visit a few months before this incident. He remembered me as looking extremely ripped, but greasy and with a hollowed-out face. I’m at least 20 pounds heavier than when he saw me, and nearly 30 pounds heavier than I was at the time I was admitted to the loony bin. — Devon Britt-Darby
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Did you mean to include the credit card info? Man. The drama of that trip! LOL