Old Friends and Drug Abuse

I can remember the taste of dirt as I awoke from underneath the 29th street bridge that morning/afternoon. I couldn't remember what had taken place that night before except those pills I had taken at about 7pm. I couldn't remember what they were, Xanax? Ambian? Hydrocodone? I didnt know. What I did know is that the fuzz that had overtaken my head and my psyche was unberably strong and I had to get some malt liquor on it. Stat. So me, Justin, Liz and Huck made our way to the nearest gas station we could find(I think it was pleasently named "Stop&Rob) and we set up our signs and managed to get about five bucks between me and Justin. So of course we bought two of the finest Old English 40ounces we could get our hands on. I also think I should mention this all took place before noon. I think it was about nine o'clock. It was beauty in it's rawest form. two conquistadors sailing the seven seas of self-degradation. The true grit of the American Dream. The greatest form of a capitalist trade; two kids make up some bullshit sob story about how our pet rat(Scumfuc) was a "fancy rat" and he needed "fancy food" to go along with his...general "fanciness". Then Huck, in all his glory used his cousins i.d. he had stolen a few years back and bought the booze. Liz was a poon and could'nt hang, but between me, Huck, and Justin, the two fortys were gone in about five minutes. As we walked down the road(I believe it was Guadalupe St.) I noticed some college kids looking my way and coovering their mouths almost in surprise. I walked up to one of them and he grabed my arm almost forcefully and ran me to this table in front of this resturant that was apparently "too upscale" to ever let me in. I mean shit, the people that work there have matching aprons and matching hats. This place is baller right? Anyway, this weird-ass college kid had dragged me in front of this place and I was suprised to see my old friends, Fat Tom, Lillit, and somebody else important. So important in fact that I have forgotten them. Damn you and your agenda drugs. It was pretty funny because all Tom could speak and remark of was how typical it was to run into me on the street like this. almost as if by some outter force, an outter personna; Fat Tom had known all along the fate of your humble narrator. Or he was being a pretentious prick, I still do not know. It kinda sucked though because that was how I found out what really happened to Sean. He hadn't od'd against a wall in Deep Ellum all glamorized, he had actually been at a party. All Tom was able to tell me was Sean had gotten some phone call from his dad, told everyone he had to shit, and the next morning his girlfriend(or random slut) had opened the bethroom door and found him, slumped over on the toilet, face cold and blue. He had gotten what he had tried for so long to find through countless addictions and overdoses. He finally went home.
It made me think back, I've lost a lot of friends/brothers because of that one little thrill, drugs. Kids that never got the chance to ever live, or even attempt to. No one get me wrong, a party's a party, but know your fucking limits. All of them, cut short at so young. People constantly ask, " why would you do drugs if that's whats plagued so many you knew?" Well the answers this, those drugs didn't kill those poor children, they themselves did. Everyone I knew and have known personally who has "accidently" overdosed, there was something wrong. Their smiles were different, almost embarassed. their eyes werent right either. You can tell a lot about a person just by looking into their eyes, you can see their inner soul for however beautiful or damaged and broken it really is. I worry today about some of my other brothers as their glow looks to be dwindling to this day. There's nothing that can be done for them though. once that glow is gone your already dead. just a shell of a human mindlessly and monotonously living out their pathetic and meaningless lives until one day it finally snaps. That little and minut inconvenience that finally sends them over the edge in which they then go to the bedroom(or bathroom), sit down and in a drugged stupor, take a lethal dose of their drug of choice or whatever they can get their hands on. Drugs kill, but at least you get some sleep.