"There are some problems that stay with you. Forever. You
run and you run and you run... and then you run some more," he almost
whispered the last words. "But they stay with you. And all you can do is
pretend that it doesn't matter, that everything is alright; but at night, when
you're tired and you can pretend no more and you're filled with this cold and
grey emptiness... then, all you can do is numb your pain with whatever medicine
you have. Some drink. Some put needles in their arms. I kill. It's what I do. It
makes me feel alive."