If drugs were legal, my friend Andrew would not have died Sunday night.
This was not my first reaction. My first reaction was unfocused rage (which itself seems to be a coping method when faced with overwhelming sadness).
I want an excuse to punch someone. (Learned tonight: It is surprising how hard one can punch a flat metal pole and not feel much pain.) I want to kill the person who sold Andrew the heroin. (These feelings are not in the past tense.) Thinking about Andrew and mentally celebrating his life focused my rage, however, on the more culpable target of the multiplied evils of drug prohibition. I want to upend the world and shake things into place.
Read More