March 8, 2008 at 9:12 AMI think about her addiction. Then I stare at myself in the mirror for a good long while. In the night, I dream I’m at my grandma’s house, where she used to live, before she died this winter. The inside of her house is mostly dark with a reddish ambiance, and I’m feebly fumbling, trying to change clothes without being noticed while headlights shine through the windows periodically. I could use some help, but I’m too busy hiding, trying to change. I remember seeing an unused telephone; my fingers are too occupied to call.
She must be happier now that she’s dead.
The second dream is just a flash, of meadowlark songs and the smell of green. This mirage quickly transforms into the wheezes of my sleeping dog and the persistent grey drip that is the expected weather here in March.
If I can muster it, I’ll play some Bach today. In March, I only play Bach.
From Jim W. MillerMy grandmother was addicted to Postum. She had me doing it too, but fortunately there was intervention.
Posted on March 9, 2008 at 8:55 PM
From Yixi ZhangEmily, you make my eyes wet...
Posted on March 9, 2008 at 10:09 PM
I was told that my grandfather was an opium addict before the Communist came, but went to detox centre when the Communist took over and recovered from it. I was also told that most of the opium addicts were cured that way during the early 50s in China. I don’t know if this is true, but what I do know is addiction is still rampant in today’s China, and the money-addiction being the worst, imho.
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