Is watching Requiem for a Dream with roommates who scoff at the downward spiral message and then call your boy from jail to ask him to remove the syringes taped under his dresser so his parents can collect his furniture after he destroyed his parents house while they were out of town in a very out of hand party.

Never have I ever, will I ever, could I ever fathom crossing that threshold of destruction. I guess that’s one of those assessment points where I clearly has to define the space of oh, these aren’t the people I thought they were.

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