Phillip & Peaches

I wrote this three months ago upon hearing about the death of Phillip Seymour Hoffman:

Early Sunday morning Phillip Seymour Hoffman died with a syringe in his arm and empty packs of heroin nearby. Did he mean to overdose? Was it an accident? Was he aware of the possibility he would die and just didn't care? Was he depressed or was he celebrating? We will probably never know. A coroner will perform an autopsy and make conclusions that the media will dissect and people will chat about over Friday night drinks in between admiring haircuts and chastising hemlines. Just another name pronounced with finality.

Phillip's kids will grow up without a dad, perhaps defending him in the schoolyard because his was not an admirable death. But he did have a celebrated life. To most of us he had it all; an acting career, three beautiful children, and recognition of his talent and hard work. From a young age he also had heroin, and as it so often does, heroin won in the end.

I stopped writing because I didn't have the words to express the profound disappointment at another senseless death. Of course I did not know Phillip but his performances were so fiercely intelligent, truthful and raw that I felt like I knew him. I started to write this as an appeal to educate people about the dangers of drugs and express my concern that drug education is not being used the right way.