When drugs ruled my life, my days on earth consisted of mere Hours and Minutes. Living? I wasn’t. Time was more alive than I, and it had zero remorse for me. When I was high, my mind body and soul flew autopilot. I was like a futuristic mech only living to serve, to kill. Except I wasn’t killing for a just cause; I was killing my own existence. Hours and Minutes had passed, and I sat crazed. dazed. When I got clean, I rediscovered the gleam within my eye; Hours and Minutes turned to tangible experiences; life began all over again.