All in Down on Decatur


I almost froze to death in there—they shut off all the heat in the buildings. I was in a locked cell by myself with paper clothes on. All that was there was a mattress. The guards really beat the shit out of me; when I first got there I was having blackouts, and apparently I was talking a lot of shit to the guards.


I fight depression. I always have, and in the last few years, I learned that the less I care what anybody thinks, the happier I am. At the beginning of this year, I really, really embraced it, and it’s been the best four months of my life.


Oh yeah, absolutely. My whole life’s been a burden, but I bear it in a way that it makes something positive for everyone else. When you wear your ink properly, and your ink is right, everything else is just perfect. People see it. They understand. You get a connection with people that is…beyond price.


The oil spill happened in 2011 —Deepwater Horizon. I was a young man, just turning twenty-one. I had two jobs in the hospitality industry when it happened. I was busting my butt, working, working, working. I went from making $1600 every two weeks to $500 every two weeks.


 I first started DT-ing three years ago, I guess. It took a year of traveling. I mean, I had a fucked-up, traumatic childhood, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't trying to escape it. It just went from partying every night to partying all day, and now it's like changed my brain chemistry or something.