"And every shot she takes is a bullet to the soul...killing all her feelings, turning her heart so cold. The men didn't care, they were no better; using joints like hollow points to shoot through their emotional fetters. And for the night, both sides were free...disconnected from right or wrong, detached from yes or no. Estranged from their best interests, their worst inklings were bound to show. Decisions lost the supervision of a sound mind. It all came down to impulse. Primal instincts were catalyzed by substance abuse. What you wanted was determined by your substance of use. The drunk girls wanted sex, the weedheads wanted to chill. Those doing both were confused, but they all wanted something real...which is ironic. They all chose to leave reality to get what they wanted. When the hangovers hit, and the clouds from the dutches dissipated, they were all as disappointed as anticipated. They left the world in hopes of finding it...it's very easy to confuse following your heart with blinding it."
-A. Lewis
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