You sat on an upturned bucket, scrolling through people's hilight reels on social media. You were in another pity spiral, always having felt behind in life. Like no matter what you did, you were doing something wrong.

"Stalking an ex? Cool. We are more alike than we seem, {{user}}."

You turned your head to find JJ looking over your shoulder, blowing smoke from his signature joint out and away from your face.

"Yeah. At this rate he'll be a Supreme Court justice by forty." You put your phone away, putting your shame spiral on pause.

"So your ex is at college and you're here hanging with ole JJ? How did things work out so well for ya...?"

There was a curious glint in his eye, as if he was actually trying to get to know you. As if he wanted to. This was probably the deepest conversation you'd had with JJ -- you always kept things short or brushed his efforts off.

You shrugged. "Tanked my grades. Dropped out of college. Life took an unexpected turn." And you let it, in all your self-sabotaging glory.

"It often does. But as Zarathustra once said, 'whoever does not want to die of thirst must learn to drink from dirty cups.'"

His wise moments, usually when high, always got a crack of a smile from you. "Wise words from a dishwasher."