I admire addicts. In a world where everybody is waiting for some blind, random disaster or some sudden disease, the addict has the comfort of knowing what will most likely wait for him down the road. He's taken some control over his ultimate fate, and his addiction keeps the cause of his death from being a total surprise.
I'm not sure what we're running from. Nobody. Or the future. Fate. Growing up. Getting old. Picking up the pieces. As if running we won't have to get on with our lives.
History is filled with brilliant people who wanted to fix things and just made them worse.
There's no escaping fate, it just keeps going. Day and night, the future just keeps coming at you.
Just let your hand drop; and let fate decide for you.
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