I'm 27 years old. I'm a 27 year old car crash with debris still rolling down the highway. I'm a can on the side of that highway, rusted from rain and dog piss. I'm not here to enjoy myself. I am a workman. The actions I employ are methodical and well-planned. I fail to realize the correlation between emotion and orgasm. Throw a wrench into a machine and the machine will break. Those who say they can't live without someone else are the greatest liars. They are victims that have condemned themselves to bed rest and grit their teeth hoping their IV doesn't run out. We are all on so many good drugs at home. We pull down our shades, draw the curtains and turn the lights down. We all love it when everything is real and unfiltered, but we fear it just the same. I'll always love you and know that you are never far from my thoughts. I hope you don't die soon.