The end justifies the means. Or at least that’s my way of looking at it. But then, to what extent can one go to satisfy one’s needs? Yes, needs.
It was finally one thirty a.m. when she had this weird thought, lying in bed, like a confused heap of junk. Wouldn’t it have been better if she was addicted to coke? As in, it’s more accessible than him. She has been dying to get in touch with him for like forever. But for days now, all she has to keep her breathing are the endless rings of all her unanswered calls.
Acting like a shot of cocaine at times. And like a lullaby putting her to sleep at others.