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Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Snoopy come home

Is there a fine line between indifference and paranoia? Between melodrama and ennui? Am I wrong to worry about a friend who’s been out of touch for 25 hours? Or am I wrong not to panic? Some friends I don’t talk to for weeks, months, even years at a time. No worries. But this one has a death wish, a self-destructive side always threatening to have the last say. Wild mood swings, exacerbated by if not caused by bipolar disorder in a bottle, a leaf, a pipe, a joint, another $100 up the nose or in the lungs and into the bloodstream. A recklessness that’s so far proven a remarkable resilience: How did he get away from that situation and live to tell the tale? So, cat, is this life number eight or number nine?

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