Prologue

Now, we think back to the peace we used to find in the simple pleasure of watching steam rise from the cooling summer streets. We watched the potent smoke rise from our cigarettes and blunts, and we thought that this was all there could possibly be to life. We drenched ourselves in liquor, slurred and blurred and filled in the gaps that had turned black with beautiful colors. We locked ourselves in dust-covered cellars, and watched the colors turn in nature from inside the house. We prowled the graveyard at night, and got lost in the poetry of the dead. We felt so wonderful, saw so much beauty in that little town. Even locked up in the prison, we called it, we saw beauty. You have a tendency to see beauty in everything when your every cell is constantly filled to the brim with smoke and alcohol. We were fascinated by the things we could get away with, and we tested our limits – tested the very gravity that held us securely to the earth. And then, in one night, it was all stolen.