Seemingly innocent children, with muddied hands and dewy faces, passed out in uncontrollable overdoses.
Woken by headaches, they drag themselves into the day, reliving or regretting the night before, as they make their way back to the real world of awkward self-conciousness.
This is what they are, ill fitting in their own minds, freed by powders and paper and smoke and spirits.
Each weekend brings another attempted elope from the mindless tuning of everyday, yet they do not see that the escape itself becomes routine.
Anarchic conformists, deluded members of a team.
Where everyone wants to be 'individual' but seeks to be accepted through being the same.
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