Come away from it

On the cement floor there's a table with cards and chips: buying and selling time and entertainment, not to mention cash. Voices drift up the vents; muffled conversations and bullshit too distant to understand. Mondays and Fridays are like clockwork.

Sure, we all have our things. I do, that's for sure. What happens when one vice takes over all your other ones? Does it mean you're getting older and more mature or are you just wild?

Everything in moderation, my friend, including moderation...