My journey began on a broken road, I learned to fall before I learned to stand. And at every fork in the buckled street I always seemed to find my feet on the path that lead me farther from where I wanted to be. Yet I could still see those other paths, glittering spitefully as though mocking me, taunting me with visions of what might have been. Now, I sit in my ivory tower, looking out of my twenty four inch high definition windows, gazing lustfully at whatever catches my eye, like some debauched god, reaching out to satisfy, to gratify the burning desire to consume all I find beautiful, touching, testing, tasting, devouring, seeking others to share my addiction, their pleasure my drug. Yet still, those other paths call to me, and I gaze longingly at them, wishing I could be on them, instead of the unlit road I chose so long ago in foolish haste. Those roads were not for me, my footpaths lead to perdition, and I walk alone, even as it tears me and I realize I am already there.