We all know about it, you hear about it as a kid, you see the headlines, you hear about so-and-so’s cousin or uncle or whatever. You tell yourself it’ll never happen to you, it’s only after other people, it’ll give you a pass. It lurks in alleys you’ll never turn down, it hides in rooms you’ll never enter. This is before you know that it’s everywhere, that it lies in the tall grasses around the makeup chair and the soundstage and the after party.
There’s a phial in my jacket right now as I’m writing this. Powder, not rock. Uncut.
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