. . . You said you were a criminal at home. You wear a jumpsuit, you live in an asylum, and you spend all your time obsessing over an overgrown man-child who never grew out of playing dress-up.
Somehow, here, you function. You have work. You have friends. You have something remotely resembling a family. And if the worst that ever happens is getting absolutely smashed on a bad night and making a fool of yourself, it's a victory, if not over anyone in particular, then over what might have been.
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. . . You said you were a criminal at home. You wear a jumpsuit, you live in an asylum, and you spend all your time obsessing over an overgrown man-child who never grew out of playing dress-up.
Somehow, here, you function. You have work. You have friends. You have something remotely resembling a family. And if the worst that ever happens is getting absolutely smashed on a bad night and making a fool of yourself, it's a victory, if not over anyone in particular, then over what might have been.
Sometimes, you don't have to beat anybody to win.