All places are the same unless your mind changes. There's no magic place to get your mind right. If you feel like shit, everything you see looks like shit.

He looked at the road quite a lot now. Sometimes the white line was solid, sometimes it was broken, and sometimes it was double, like streetcar tracks. He wondered how people could ride over this road all the other days of the year and not see the pattern of life and death in that white paint? Or did they see, after all?

Better to be dirty than dead.

You'll consider what you did wrong & bookend your reflections with hunger - no supper, no breakfast.