I always figured I myself would never be lucky enough to die, I'd just live on and on in this increasingly dreary spiral.

In my family, misery didn't just love company, it wanted hostages.

If you're an asshole, you have an excuse for being an asshole because you're a junkie. But then once you give up the drugs, and you're still an asshole, that's problematic.

I always figured I myself would never be lucky enough to die, I'd just live on and on in this increasingly dreary spiral.

At 17, all I wanted was to be a famous junky. Like all my heroes.

You may think you don't want to throw your life away for mere fleeting euphoria. But, once you get a taste, it doesn't feel so mere. From then on the planet becomes a waiting room. The rest of your life devolves to no more than the time between highs.

All of us, at some point in life, choose our cliché.