When my friend and I meet up, I see him do many things that would raise an eyebrow. Seems like drugs are always on the agenda. A cigarette here, a line here, and a beer or three there. I’m amazed he can do this every week actually. He’s been complaining about being broke all week and it finally hit me where it all goes.
I personally don’t consider any of his activities fun or something I would like to partake in. I call this self-harm masked over with the warm high illegal narcotics brings. It’s false hope for those who have a less than optimistic view of the world.
I may just sit and watch it consume him. There’s only so much I can do after the bazillionth talk I’ve had with him. Death is lurking, but he knows it too.