Jon Vreeland

“So once the junkie is strung out and fucked, the junkie looks and cries for anything in their sentimental past to replace family, so everyone the junkie talks about is a “best friend” or “brother” or some kind of “uncle.” Because once you take that plunge and stick that spike into your tangled blue, helpless veins, you hit the reset button on your life, and relate everything you love and hate—then or now—to an illusion of family, due to the sudden loss of yours.”
― Jon Vreeland, The Taste of Cigarettes: A Memoir of a Heroin Addict