Adjust My Dreams For Me.

The Numbing Lists Of Things You Were Supposed To Have As An American To Make You Happy, Which Ultimately, Of Course, Don't. Those Aren't The Things That Make You Happy.

I Think We've All Lost Some Kind Of Feeling.

And It Struck Me Then, That I Liked Sean Because He Looked, Well, Slutty. A Boy Who Had Been Around. A Boy Who Couldn't Remember If He Was Catholic Or Not.

He Was Simply Someone Who Floated Through Our Lives And Didn't Seem To Care How Flatly He Perceived Everyone Or That He'd Shared Our Secret Failures With The World, Showcasing The Youthful Indifference, The Gleaming Nihilism, Glamorizing The Horror Of It All.

When The Going Gets Tough, The Tough Go Drinking.