a work in progress.
However much the superpowers-that-be like to make you think that they’ve always been abseiling face first into mid-service raves down the tube, we all start somewhere.
See that door with a no entry sign? Open it.
Before you know it, you’ll be wondering how on earth you came to be lying flat on your front under some coal train hoping to fuck those flashlights aren’t going to get any closer.
You’ll always get your shoelaces back, the years wait for nobody.
get out there.