Somewhere along the line–presumably lurking in the depths he’d sunk to in recent memory–he’d decided to put a halt to guilt. It was exhausting, uncomfortable, and never went without failing to yield any positive results whatsoever.
So he went to a nearby beach, all of a sudden, and spent the day wondering what was needed to make everything normal comfortable.
At what must have been the stroke of midnight, one could even say at the exact moment, state of inebriation notwithstanding, he figured it out.
As soon as this was over he could start not feeling guilty.
Fall Out Boy!