Well, fuck.
Overdose. That's the word that's been hanging over my head all day. I was standing at the top of the stairs in a towel when my mother told me, "Matthew died."
When someone you know dies, their life flashes before your eyes. And then you picture the end. His mother found him in his room in the basement, needle and tourniquet included. He was so handsome. And so fucking young.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
It pisses me off when people say that drug users are all bums without life plans and whatever else of a bad reputation they receive. Matthew was none of those things. He went to college and worked a job at night and moved back into his mother's house to help her out. It breaks my heart when I start wondering whether or not she thinks it's her fault.
My mom talked to his brother and his brother said, "Well, at least he was happy."
That fucker doesn't know what he's talking about. HE'S NOT HAPPY. HE'S DEAD, YOU CUNT.
When someone you know dies, their life flashes before your eyes. And then you picture the end. His mother found him in his room in the basement, needle and tourniquet included. He was so handsome. And so fucking young.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
It pisses me off when people say that drug users are all bums without life plans and whatever else of a bad reputation they receive. Matthew was none of those things. He went to college and worked a job at night and moved back into his mother's house to help her out. It breaks my heart when I start wondering whether or not she thinks it's her fault.
My mom talked to his brother and his brother said, "Well, at least he was happy."
That fucker doesn't know what he's talking about. HE'S NOT HAPPY. HE'S DEAD, YOU CUNT.