|The Next Stage/Second Life
I think my earliest memory is receiving a racecar for my birthday. It was small, about twice the size of a matchbox, and black. It had the words "Need For Speed" painted on the sides... Even though I got my first new bike that birthday, the racecar stands out the most within my mind. My father loved it as much as I did, and we would play with it in front of our fireplace, upon the brick shelving, for hours on end. That racecar embodied everything about my life. Need for speed.
I just had to graduate early, and so I spent summers in school while the other kids were playing. I spent my four years in college by the time I turned nineteen, and had my first job when I was twenty. The sudden influx of steady income came as quite a shock to me.
I moved to Chicago, so I could work full time with the government adoptions agency. I had my first condo when I was twenty-two. I guess I can look back and see that the friends I made were all there, crowding around me, for both comfort I so willingly gave in the form of loans, and the direction I seemed to exude.
It didn't take long to slip into the wrong crowd and find myself pushing down a plunger every weekend. Need for speed. I really think it quite strange that that racecar was the very reason I lost my father. My mom said he found it, in a box in the basement, and decided to fly out to visit and give it to me. Unfortunately, the pilot thought it wise to fly with a hangover. I never did see my father, and the airlines couldn't find any luggage in the wreckage. So, all at once I lost both my father, and what would make me think of him the most..
The "need for speed" became my new way of insinuating that I was about to take a hit. Who cares if I was using heroine and not speed? I didn't... But, it turns out my boss did. I was both fired and charged for trafficking. I look back now and see the most troubling times in my life. [ Continue ]
written by Curt