Mom, I'm on drugs. You told me not to hang out with Jerrod Peters and his buddies, that they would lead me astray. You told me that you love me and you worry about me. You told me that people die from drugs. You told me that you think cousin Ryan is on drugs, and that Aunt Lizzy is in denial about the whole thing. You told me that I shouldn't date Angela, that she was a "bad girl." You told me that I should stand up straight and tuck my shirt in and say my pleases and thank you's. You told me to be careful in Chicago, and to call home often.
Well mom, I didn't listen. Jerrod didn't care that I stuttered and liked to read. Those people who died weren't me. If you could see that cousin Ryan was trying things, why couldn't you see me fall? Aunt Lizzy probably said the same thing about me. You liked Beth, but I never told you that the reason we broke up: she slept with five separate people while we were together. Angela never lied to me and I reminded her of rain in the summertime. I stood up straight and tucked my shirt in when I came to Chicago, and I said my pleases and thank you's until they threw me out. I called home until I couldn't afford to. And now I'm cold, hungry, lonely, and desperately in need of a fix. I'm not sorry, I'm not ashamed. I never wanted to be famous, I just wanted to remember what it was like, when I was little, and things were simple and nice.
So when the call comes, mom, please remember to take care of Billy, because he'll be going into high school soon, and he'll be going through the same things I did. Make sure he stands up straight, and tucks in his shirt. But let him go to the prom even when his grades are bad, and let him join the football team even though he's small and delicate and your baby. And let him date his Angela.
note: the only drugs i have ever used in my life have been alcohol and caffeine (i steer clear of even cough medicine and tylenol). This "story" materiallized when I was writing up Unemployed Boyfriend, and I felt I had to node it.