A. Apparently, I need to drink less. To save me. To save my friends. To save us. I was spoken to by a 16 year old, yesterday. Well known to both of us. Who has reached maturity levels, I can only dream of. He called me an imbecile. And much worse. But. B is right. Yet. He won’t understand. Just now. Yet. But. Will. At some point. How Hard Returns would have made this post look better.
