>well I’m glad you asked. I suppose my first passion was actually music. From an early age, my mother would play albums from a wide array of artists from classic jazz like Miles Davis and Scot Joplin to folk rock of Bob Dylan and Arlo Guthrie, to more contemporary bands like The Clash and The Kinks. One of my favorites as a kid was Johnny Cash and I began to idolize him, wanting to become a rockstar myself. For two whole years I wore nothing but black. I scraped enough money together to send away for a mail order guitar for $25. It, along with my leather jacket I received on my 14th birthday, were my two most prized possessions. It came with a basic song book and from that I learned a few chords. I had already been writing poetry for some time, so songwriting came rather naturally. My friends and I used to jump in a car and drive down to the creek where we would try to write songs, though we would often end up spending more time fantasizing about our future lives as rockstars. These were such simple and pure times... full of hope and youthful ambition. It’s truly those times we end up yearning for most after the cold, cruel reality wears you down enough and you become calloused to the beauty in the world, to love. When I was 16, I tried heroine for the first time.
What the fuck did he mean by this?
