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A multi-generational exploration of addiction |
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I am going to be a ballerina.... I am going to be a veteranarian... I am going to be a lawyer... I am going to be a junkie.... Do you ever look at a child and say "he's going to grow up to be an addict?" Is there a genetic predisposition? Perhaps my father, Kim, could say. Though I never knew my paternal grandfather, I do know that he was not a good man. We've heard this story before but let's listen again. From here on out we will refer to him as Pops, since I don't even think he knew his own name. Pops was definifitely a junkie, of what sort I am not certain; I guess we'll see, but he certainly gave Kim sufficient desire to escape. (And boy did he find his emegency exit) Kim wasn't bad when he was around, not that I recall. Mothers story differs a bit, but I remember feeling like his little princess. The world was his kingdom, he was my king and I was rearing to travel far and wide. How far any version of a junkie wishes to escape will vary. Does he consider himself as much when he has his fix? When he is facing those desparate hours of icy veins throbbing for their downy comfort? Or does he even consider anything at all? Again, this is something that will also vary and we'll find out. What we have before us is a multi-generational exploration of junk. |
| Entry # | 1 | Ch. 1 Blood | 1.63k |
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