I lived with a junkie for about 8 months. It was wild. I was always bringing him a glass of water or seeing if he wanted a slice of pizza or something like that to see if he was still alive. He did eventually end up dead, but we had gone our separate ways by then.
He took a needle yesterday. Unfortunately it wasn't heroin.
We get it, you fucked him yesterday.
Where have you been all my Poal? It's like running into an American abroad, this comment.
A guy who slept on the porch of a local church died and was there 3 days before a maintenance employee found him. Other people wee sleeping on this same covered porch the whole time.
At a certain point they're barely human anymore. It's actually really sad.
(post is archived)