It has come to my attention that some of my work seems to glorify drug use. This was told to me by some of my most trusted confidants.
I'll tell you why: because drugs used to be glorious and sometimes I miss the times when that was true.
It used to be social and a catalyst for togetherness with other people. I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when it became total isolation. I think once I started sniffing cocaine at age 18, that whole experience tied me to one concept "fuck everything and everyone, the only important thing is how I feel".
When i'm getting high, I don't even want anyone around, they only get in my way. The people I met on 36th Street would use me for free dope and crack and I had to literally run and ditch them without warning. Disappearing act.
I don't know if I can even verbally quantify the feeling of separation and loneliness of life on the street chasing the next hit. It's like that broken heart that you can feel in your solar plexus, continually. I had a rough breakup with humanity, and it was more painful than anything one could prepare themselves for.
And here I am now… living in a smart phone for some digital emulation of the connection that I think we all long for. I miss so many people and the weight of how much I love them is astronomical. Sure the simulation isn't quite the real thing, but it still comforts me. After all, I am of the generation that was raised on broadband 100 mbps intimacy with everyone I've ever met, at the click of a button.
Memes, playlists and YouTube videos are the vernacular of what feels like an ongoing conversation, and I'm more than happy to participate. I didn't say a word to anyone for months on end.
So, hello, there is a very strong chance that I miss you very much, please bare with my as I try to glue myself back together. NYC isn't that far, and it's the location of the hand I've been dealt, in fact it's all 52 cards.
