I sit and write exit strategies from impossible scenarios, using powdered ink made from cracked dreams. I focus on the task with the conviction and seriousness of a sleepwalking zealot.
The day wanes on, and finds me flirting with terrible temptations. My rose-tinted goggles help make the distinction blurry. This helps combat my common sense.
During the dusk, I reward myself with bottles of liquefied lust. They shine amber and orange in the scorching California sunset.

8:34 p.m. - 2015-06-08