“Then, almost as if on its own, a single tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away roughly, shaking his head like he could shake away everything that had just happened. With a sigh, he flicked his cigarette away, pulled another from his pocket, and lit it with shaky fingers. Then he lay down on the cold rooftop floor, staring up at the sky. The stars were distant, indifferent. They had seen this story a million times before. And they knew how it always ended.” SadnessHuman NatureHeartbreakingBroken HeartsA Philosophy Of Scars Book:A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds Source: A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
“Drugs,” Hank clarified, as if talking about the weather. “Always high, always alone. Walks around like some tragic poet who lost his manuscript in a fire or something. He used to be something else, I heard. But now? He’s a mess.” SadnessLonelinessCalmnessBroken HeartsA Philosophy Of Scars Book:A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds Source: A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds