I watched people, and then I wanted what they wanted. Does that make sense? I wanted everything, all the traveling, all the men, all the attention. I was a glutton for life. A whore for venture. I wanted to cut open my skull and pour experiences into it—good ones, bad ones, heck, even the meekly mediocre ones would do. I didn’t want to live them all, living gets messy and exhausting, and let’s face it, I still had a fucking job.
