Today's dead addict is the beautiful Zoe Lund. She was a child prodigy musician who grew up to be a writer, journalist, filmmaker, model and actress and general glamorous arty-type chick.
Her addictions began with heroin, but she died of complications from cocaine use at the age of 37. She switched drugs of choice when she relocated to Paris.
I thought this poem is interesting. She seems to be talking about the battle within herself between the addict and the Zoe. It's called "Opium Wars."
She wants there to be more of her.
More space taken by her body,
more decibels conquered by her voice,
more time by her wakefulness,
more equations by her addition.
She wants more, I want less.
Her blade is rusty, musty, sweaty and vain.
I like it clean and sharp and dark-bright.
She traffics in surplus,
I bare my essentials.
Her world is elastic but brittle.
Mine is bony but moonlit.
Hers flows, she ebbs.
Mine ebbs, I flow.
She dies in life, I live in death.
Here are two other links that are pretty interesting...I guess we might call them well-written glamorizations of the drug. But really, she's so pretty. I have a weakness for tragic beauty, well documented throughout this website.
There was this time when my husband and I were still an affair...I was visiting from New York, and I was in the bathroom of a fancy restaurant. He opened the door and came in to me. I was holding a rose I'd picked up...it was a place that was so nice they had roses in the bathroom. He took the rose from my hand, crushed it, and said, "Whenever I see something beautiful, I just want to ruin it."
And so I married him.