I had no idea what I was doing, I had no idea where I was going, but at some point I stopped — when to keep going would seem like I was going too far.
My dad was an alcoholic and my mother. . . we didn't have any money and I grew up really poor. I watched them spend all of their money on cartons of cigarettes and stuff like that and I didn't understand how if we were broke and we couldn't afford Christmas presents, why could you smoke all of those cigarettes? It's not like they are making you better. . . they are killing you. It seemed real idiotic to me.