Met an old head last night, one of the invisibles that one would never suspect. Late 60’s, looked like( and was, turned out) someone’s grandfather. We exchanged gear samples, and though he started out quiet and reserved, eventually we struck up good converse. Knew a lot of same people. His lady friend asked about a point, when I asked short or long, he asked if I was any good at administering. Said I’d have a look and if thought I could I would.
OMG.
“ You’ve rode this bull a good while, huh? “ I said, trying to be casual as I looked his arms over.
I had an uncle came back from Europe strung on speed, first time it was game on, he said. Pervitin,Preludin, medic recipe, tried them all. We reminisced/ bitched about gear then/ now.
He decided he’d do the deed himself, chose long against my suggestion, and proceeded to bloody himself properly.
Cant get that out of my head. Slow, lonely suicide. Death of a thousand cuts. He’s a good dude, as lifers go, I checked today.