One day after his 19th birthday He cleared out his wardrobe Bags of 80's retro clothing. He bought all that stuff to fill a hole in his empty life. But the sharp cut, the heroin chiq look, was never enough, to justify his love. He looks at the world with destain. He hates everything and everyone. Not least of all himself. The part of himself he hated? the part that made him the same as everyone else. He followed every word he was taught, he lived a life of plenty with a passion so unique & a smile so complete. But one by one all his friends around him gave him the impression he was wrong about something. He questioned himself night and day. The world he created slowly peeled away. He felt cold and desolate, his love was bland and insufficient, to get him through those days. When all he saw was black, there was no going back. He knows too much, he leaves it at that.