I was born into a crazed Jewish family, 1947, and raised in Coney Island. I became a diabetic in 1958 and insulin dependent two years later; five years after that I was to begin what would be a 45 year journey as a junkie, writer, lover, thief, scholar, asshole and idiot to myself and all those I came in contact with. I split from confines of my home early on and, when cutting school, found myself in Greenwich Village where I met and fell in with those also outside the rules of boredom and adopted a lifestyle that deceived me into thinking I could ever really escape myself.
