I move on to a path that seems a bit blown in, a criss-crossing network of serotonin.
The second is there covered in tattoos, cigarette smoke and other things to loath in.
A being of temporary pleasures and all things that make me feel less broken.
I am angry at first, disappointed by his unrelenting thirst.
But he smiles sheepishly and speaks a statement he follows quite religiously; drop your guard on occasion and lay into these simple vices, otherwise you'll be billed even steeper prices.
A clean slate is so pointless in light of all your sacrifices.