Watts, California. A man with no pot to piss in and no window to throw it out of, feeling like a dead man talking. Deandre M. doesn't trade in Hallmark platitudes; he speaks with the grit of someone who has eaten out of trash cans and sold his brother's clothes to feed a habit. For Deandre, sobriety isn't a gentle slope but a psychic change—a hard pivot from staying crazy to finding sanity.
He recalls a sponsor in a little red Volvo who didn't care about popularity contests and told him to put on a helmet and move. Deandre warns the newcomers to stop running game and quit the "drunk-a-log" of war stories. He views the program as a boat: when the waves of life knock out the money, the degrees, and the house, you grab the boat first. Relying on a Higher Power to bridge the gap between the talk and the walk, he insists that the only way out is to burn the idea of recovery into the consciousness.
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