leaning tower of defeat looms over in the corner ready to crush and defile all the work that came before. Light is slowly sucked into the folds of each new decadent lifestyle choice, beats on a pavement become slower and less deliberate. Each filling up to the edge of despair as the morning becomes colder, each breath becomes more bitter. Comfort in not growing up stagnates, becomes falser as each candle is added. The glaze of youth has been licked off, spat straight into another mouth. Abrasive forces that used to motivate start to leave only the basest of elements of yourself on the surface.