What a waster: he’s in shambles but the smile is a convincing lie to passersby, the depths of it all hidden behind jaded eyes. Feet hitting the pavement, broken shoes, ears tuned to the city, to centuries of joy mixed with grief inherent in every ancient surface. Mourning the lost connections, pondering the misdirections, daydreaming of a time when it was all so much simpler – just two voices mingling in the darkness, falling in and out of bed, laughing because what else can you do when it’s all gone to shit?
Cars drive by, a siren wails in the distance, and tired, red-rimmed eyes trace the cracks in ancient bricks. Boy, you wreck everything you touch. Why not try building something for a change?