Strange paths of devotion
Not linear, gentle or consistently successful
Hello. This post is about Death & Birds.
When I was fourteen years old, I sat in a friends bedroom while she used a razor to neatly push together lines of cocaine on a glass-topped table. “Just try it, you’ll love it”. My friend was twenty-four, and in many ways she was my first real friend. She was the first person I felt relaxed around, the first person I felt knew and understood me. And she wasn’t wrong, about the cocaine.
Shortly after, I excitedly took the good news that cocaine was not, after all, deadly or addictive (and that it was, in fact, *amazing*) to some of my same-aged school friends. They were, rightly, horrified—but when, years later, they all came to the idea of their own accord, I welcomed them with open arms and chewing gum.