Just when you think you think you have it all figured out, life throws you another curved ball! At the party last night I caught Dylan snorting cocaine in a bathroom. At first I couldn’t believe my eyes, then he had the audacity to offer me some. How could he, knowing how I feel about drugs? Seems he’s been doing it for some time. How could I have not known? I should have, especially when every party we attend is snowing white powder. Regarded as the caviar of street drugs (and probably why it can command such a premium), cocaine has earned an almost respectable, if not glamorous, image and is therefore the drug of choice amongst the aspiring middle classes, celebrities, wall street traders and social elite. While I appreciate that it does offer some rather unique physiological and psychological benefits, it’s recreational use is extremely hazardous. As far as I’m concerned there are plenty of other great ways to get your kicks.
When I noticed how erratic his behaviour had become, not to mention the paranoia which is a dead giveaway, I should have guessed immediately. Still, am I really that naive? I knew Dylan had dabbled in drugs in his early years, he had shared all that with me already, but I was certain all that was in the past now. He was so against it when I met him in Malta, said he’d never have made it in the music industry if he’d continued taking it, that it was “foolish, stupid and dangerous.”
I’m quite devastated, I feel I don’t know him at all, or maybe I just thought I did. I understand that people can change, certainly I have, it’s quite natural. Things I grew up believing I’ve had to question, after all beliefs are a bit like faith, most of the time we hold them to be true without any real evidence. Life experience shapes us and sometimes alters what we hold to be important or true, changing our values, needs and behaviour. I suspect that people who don’t change can’t be engaging in the world or learning very much. But go from being anti-drugs to a cocaine user practically overnight? How does that happen?
Okay so the album was a flop and the american critics hated it. Big deal, there’s still the rest of the world and even if it doesn’t do much better in Europe, it’s still no excuse for drowning himself in white powered self-pity.
There are so many great ways to get high on life if you just look around, so why he needs this sh*t is beyond me. Is he that desperate to to be accepted here? I thought he was someone who lived according to his own rules, who wasn’t afraid to stand apart from the crowd, a free spirit with an independent mind who loved life and adventure as much as I do. I’m so disappointed in him.
When I saw him slicing blow with a credit card he did it like a pro, and all I could feel was disgust. Watching people snort drugs is about as repulsive to me as being force fed live maggots or seeing someone vomit up yesterdays half digested dinner, a rainbow of beef, potato and carrot, judging from the colours! I’ve seen people with holes in their septum from snorting drugs, it’s damn scary!
I couldn’t stay any longer, this was not my scene and never will be, so I took a cab home. After a stiff drink (ironic and somewhat hypocritical I admit) I went straight to bed then immediately got up again, shifting onto the sofa in the lounge. Tossing and turning all night I tried to make sense of it all, asking myself why, and wondering how I was going to handle the situation in the morning.
I needn’t have bothered, for Dylan never returned home. It’s New Years Day and everyone’s on holiday. I’ve decided to go to Santa Cruz. I need to get out of this city for a few days, away from the superficiality and shallowness of the people here, and the sadness I feel because I know Dylan and I have drifting into unchartered waters.
I’m not so foolish to believe that love conquers all. Besides, nobody has the right to tell someone else how to live their life, everyone has their own path, lessions to learn and choices to make. It’s not for me to tell Dylan what to do but when you care about someone it’s hard not to sometimes, especially when you believe there’s a better way, but then again how can I say that? That’s my belief, maybe he thinks differently. In his mind maybe cocaine is the solution, at least temporarily. The only problem is you get addicted, your brain gets hijacked and everything else becomes permanently distorted, changing your beliefs and values leading you into a swamp of uncertainty and confusion. Then the solution has become the problem!
I’ve run into a few alcoholics and addicts before before so I’m under no illusions how difficult it is to help them. You certainly can’t have a relationship with one, after all three’s a crowd. Still, I care about him deeply, dammit I came half way around the world for him, I’ve never have done that for anyone, that must mean something?
What on earth am I going to do?
What a life!