Dylan goes to Hollywood

Reading back on my past four posts, I wish to myself that I can reach out and shake Dylan back to her senses. It’s futile, of course.  What I can do instead is only shake my head in disbelief. For yes indeed, there is more of such foolishness to come:

In 2008, I spent one week in LA. It was there that I had my first taste of crystal meth. I spent the rest of my stay in North Hollywood buying and inhaling the drug. I lived in a trailer park and took showers (when possible) in random people’s bathrooms.

I was high as a kite while doing tattoos. One night, I shook so much from having no sleep combined with the drug’s side effects that I messed up a heart tattoo on a customer’s chest. That customer was a tough Latino who also happened to be deaf. He started pounding his fist on one hand. His gang started to do the same. They might have been kidding or they might have been not, I would never find out. But  I was so paranoid from the drug, my heart wanted to leap straight out of me. I seriously thought I was going to be beaten up to a pulp that night.

I went with my acquaintances  to shoplift for roast chicken and liquor at night from the grocery stores. We had to or else, we would not have anything to eat or drink. I was scrawny thin, with allergies on my face and chemicals in my brain.I could not look at myself in the mirror. We got pulled over by the cops one morning because our driver did not signal. Our driver was from Europe, did not have a driver’s license and was as on meth.  I sat stiffly in the passenger seat and thought for sure I was going to jail. The cops let us go.

One day in Sta Monica Beach, I pulled away from the group. I walked up and down the Boulevard alone ; with no phone and no way of knowing how I would find them again. I simply stopped caring. If I got lost, so be it. I had no money in my pockets,  no food in my stomach and zero hours of sleep. My contact lenses had not been cleaned for days. I wore clothes that had already begun to stink. My face was itching like mad. I kept walking.

A kind lady on the road asked me if I was OK. I can only imagine how I looked like to her. I tried to talk but nothing came out. I started crying instead and I could not stop. I had to walk away. I kept crying for a long time. Amidst the happy, tanned men and women, there I walked on the sunny streets of LA, alone and more frightened than I ever had been in my life.

I took the Greyhound bus back to San Francisco the next day. (I bought round trip tickets prior to setting out for LA).  I arrived in the bus station deep into the night. I lay my body sideways on the chairs and willed myself to sleep for the first time in what had felt like an eternity.

I had no idea what I was doing to my life.


“My people hath been lost sheep: their shepherds have caused them to go astray, they have turned them away on the mountains: they have gone from mountain to hill, they have forgotten their resting place.”

Jeremiah 50:6

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About reformedrockstar

I'll tell you what I'm not. I'm not a radio DJ, a TV host, an events host, a tattoo artist nor a bad ass rock chick bass player. I am quite simply, a child of God. This blog is His story. :) View all posts by reformedrockstar

5 responses to “Dylan goes to Hollywood

  • David Dizon

    when I read your posts I like to read them like a story and then imagine what it was like for you when you went through these things because I feel like a narrative is just too boring, but that’s just me. Also I have a question, what are the side effects of crystal meth?

    • reformedrockstar

      at first you think it is ok because it makes you feel good about yourself. and then you get hooked on that feeling and you want it again. more than sleep, more than food, more than friends and more than anything else. you get hooked because you finally get to feel good about yourself.

  • tan

    what i want to know is, where was your family in all of this? did they not know what was going on with you, was it not obvious that you did what you did to yourself, or did they just not care? and where were your friends? it seems you really didn’t have much of a support system because there are others like you who probably went through worse but still got through it without divulging their past. maybe it’s only now that you found god when you realized how fast all of it was taken away from you, all the things you once enjoyed and showed off and flaunted. perhaps you should have used that fame to do good. but i guess it’s never too late. maybe you had to have it taken away so you can finally realize what you had then, learn from it and share it with others. i just hope it’s not all just a facade. and that you’re really not just waiting for a chance for god to give you all that fame back again, while you blame all the drugs and use it as an excuse. maybe you can blog about the kind of person you were before you totally embodied “dylan”. to know why and how you became dylan in the first place.

    • reformedrockstar

      my family did what they could, but when you are lost in drugs and running with the wrong crowd, there is little your family can do. they did all that they could at the time, in the end, it was me who kept running away and rebelling. i simply did not listen and my mind was set.

      as for the future, I leave that unto God.
      we will see what will happen as i write by faith, and take it by the day…

      thank you for your insights, olivia…

  • onfyr

    this entry is sooooo uplifting….imagine…that was your rebel phase…in times of “nothingness,” u still had something…God has always been there…….but u just didn’t know it coz u’re toooooo preoccupied w/ NOTHING.

    Indeed, wandering “alone” was a gift He gave u! He gave you courage to walk away……because He was carrying u each step of the way…nothing can ever harm u now…..aaaaaaw..how sweet……… 🙂

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