Addiction is amazing; true, 100% addiction. Few things have destroyed as many lives as addiction has. People have drained bank accounts and lost their homes; they've lost loved ones and ruined relationships. It's such a strong, destructive mental flaw. Addiction leads you down paths you never thought you'd be going down. It makes you do things you swore you'd never do, as well as leading you to do things you couldn't have even fathomed doing before. I no longer feel like talking about addiction. I've been thinking a lot lately about dinner times of past years, when my dad was still around. All I can recall are porkchops that were always mushy on the underside from never being turned over, halfway through being cooked. I think about the mess my dad would always leave on his plate, it'd be such a pain in the ass to clean. Looking back, little did I know how I could have construed that as a metaphor for how things would turn out for both him and I in our lives. He's left a lot of mess on his plate, and whether it was done knowingly or unknowingly isn't important, or even at all clear. I just have strong distaste for having to clean up other's messes. As time goes by, my memories of him fade at a surprisingly rapid rate. The presense of him in this house has been long gone, and it feels almost as though he's never lived here; as if it were some dream spanning for years and years. What I predict is this: One day, when I'm least expecting it (which is saying something), he'll die and I'll be scarred for a very lengthy period of time, if not for the rest of my life. I'd be left more mess of his on my plate; of all the lost oppertunities we've had; of all the water under the bridge; of the nagging feeling of how I could have done more, but the truth is, there's little I could have done for someone who's literally mentally ill. Abandonment issues. Gotta love them.
Addictions and Predictions
3:35 a.m.//01.07.05
Mood: Guilty
Sound: Return to Oz in the background
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