|
qkg:contextText
|
I grew up with an alcoholic father. He never beat me, he never raised a hand against my mother or anything like that, but I'd seen enough stupid and ridiculous things between that, my mother and her prescription pills, and just hanging out with an older crowd when I was a kid, that I didn't understand a lot of the fun to what partying was, so I just never did it. I didn't understand waking up next to somebody you don't remember going to bed with; I didn't understand getting, you know, blackout drunk and not remembering the good times you have with your buddies; and I feel so strongly about it that I've just always been this way—it just made sense. (it) |
