During an argument once, my mother told me that I live my life like a sunbather in the park, forever moving the blanket to chase the sun, desperate to catch just another five minutes of self-indulgence before twilight. I think she’s right. I have chased every high, every dopamine hit, every good time I could get, I have decried my most heartfelt desires as the hallucinations of a drug-addled brain, I have tried to outrun myself indefinitely, but still life has led me here. The inevitability of it all.
