Oh how unmaterialistic substances can way you down just as the literal ones can. I have the drive for the future but I have not the motivation for now. I am in a constant day dream of past memories and fantasy. I can still feel his lips on my temple, stained as if it were ink of lust. I crave to throw morals which have said to be set in stone. But even stone can be overthrown. Hidden beneath layers of views and values of the most tainted kind of feeling. It tricks me so, and yet I am willing to be tricked.