I feel like warm yuck. The death of Whitney Houston is tragic, not a shock, but tragic. She was 48, so was my sister. The truth of the matter is: addiction will kill you. It will sometimes be quick but more than not its years of torment and suffering. I’ve seen it, lived it. The moment I heard the news of Whitney, I flashed back to the call from my mother. I’m having a rough time with this, a terrible time indeed. Time heals everything and life moves on. I expect I will have plenty more moments and days like this in my life but I reserve the right to be sad right now.
Winter has finally come to the Bay Area. Gloom.