Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Jacques Badon
Punching Mirrors
Last week I got news from back home in Louisiana that a very dear friend to my two younger brothers and I had passed away, very tragically, from a drug overdose.  He was like my third younger brother, and they all looked up to my friends and I (scary thought).  Ten years ago I moved here from Louisiana to get away from that shit, because I could see what it was doing to all of my friends.  For some reason, down there it was easier for teens to get pills than it was to get alcohol.  Pretty soon, this same sort of thing was happening within thousands of different circles of friends throughout the South.  In ten years I've lost more friends to this same disease than I care to mention or think about.  I couldn't make it to the funeral to pay my last respects, because I was dealing with my own problems here in Colorado, so I ended up just losing my shit in my own house, the day they were putting my boy in the ground.  When things like this happen, I usually punch doors off hinges,  or holes through walls, but on this particular day, I was more angry at the person I saw in the mirror.  For the first time ever I hated myself for just walking away from all those I cared about who were falling victim to this.  It also really opened my eyes to everything that's been going on in my own life for the past year.  "And the cracks began to show..." -Flux P.

1 comment:

  1. This was amazing! Very powerful image and your honesty strikes a cord. I lost a best friend two weeks ago, as well. Your story is beautiful, thank you for sharing.