"...If Jesus hadn't found me? I'd still be there. Or probably dead by now." He shrugged a little bit, as if it was no big thing, but hidden in the turn of his gaze away suggested it very much still was as big a deal as it sounded. He remembered, sometimes, in his nightmares. In moments like this. It was a whole point of him wanting to do something like this, to try and reach out somewhere where he felt he might actually know what he was talking about.

'Drifting with spirits' sounded like a pot smoker, who usually didn't consider it a drug like the hard stuff, not when tobacco and alcohol did far worse, but he wasn't about to judge one way or the other.

"What about you? ...You trying to get off the streets? Do something better?"