This hits home for me a little bit. I had a friend I lost to it a few years back. Not a really close friend, but a long time friend with a bond. It's about the

This hits home for me a little bit. I had a friend I lost to it a few years back. Not a really close friend, but a long time friend with a bond. It's about the same, minus the small town and the antisocial tendancies. Middle class white parents, not real trouble at home besides his problems, years and years of relapses, no real future for him and it was unclear if there ever was going to be, even before the drugs. When I found out he had died I remembered thinking a few years before that he was going to die from it. It was unsurprising but still a shock if that makes any sense. I think he felt that his life was a choice between being a loser and being a loser that feels really good a few hours a day. And as sad as it is to say, I don't think he was wrong. I'm sad that he is gone but I don't think his life was going to go any other way.