Vices

And suddenly, I like the taste of alcohol and vices and everything I was against. Suddenly I don’t know who I am or what I am or what I’m doing. Here I am becoming exactly who I thought I wouldn’t be. But who am I or who am I supposed to be.

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And now the slow burn is its own type of comfort. Out of the blues, ecstasy still somehow crushes you and you keep digging, and keep digging..