"He's the Andy Warhol to your Edie Sedgwick. Please, darling, be careful."

Who in their right mind would say that to another human being, when they know that the person they're saying it to, is scared of herself?
If you're unaware of the story of Edie and Andy, then go and rent "Factory Girl". To sum it up, it was the rise of a walking beautiful tragedy of a girl, Edie Sedgwick, and the man who created her, Andy Warhol. So ahead of herself and the careless spirits and controversy, she stumbled into drugs and failed loves and losing all that she had, dying at age 28. She was sucked in... and I don't want to be.

He isn't my Andy, but there must be a reason why a trusted friend would say such a thing.

I continuously ponder, day in and day out, as to why I am the way I am. How I was lucky to have met the people I have, loved the ones I've loved (or still do), and why I'm still alive. And I can't find any answer, but I don't think anyone can when they question the life they're living.

I... wow. I don't know anymore.
I'm drawing blanks, and I'm sketching darker images.
"I'll take the money, and I'll learn from the regrets."

I need a piano.