I saw his drug-self go weak, hollow, and dishonest. I felt abandoned. I didn’t understand why he and Anthony would become addicted like that. I blindly saw a traitor to the cause, my hurt feelings, my severed connection. I, Me, My. If only I’d been strong, rid myself of all petty distractions my bull-in-china-shop ego.……been naught besides a mighty presence of love. Shed a brotherly light to show him he was killing himself, so he could get back to being the Israeli Cowboy, the Messiah, the one and only Pick Handle Slim. Maybe, maybe, I coulda saved him. He coulda figured it out. We were all of
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About Hillel Slovak.
