My memory is not even what most peoples is, much less what it oughta be for a discussion like this.
I'm drinking here break motor oil and Bombay gin, I'll sleep when I'm dead.
When I was young, times were hard. When I got older it was worse.
Excitable boy, they all said, he killed and raped her and brought her home.
Regrets are so far from reality.
Speaking as one who has abused privilege a long time, I tell you, it's great to be alive.