The Weight of Our Experiences in The Mysteries of Vorkuta

Why, as wise as I have become to the games and the heartaches, have I continued to hunt for what hurts me? I drive onward to what eventually leaves me in longing. Is this living?
The more damage the less I desire. Nothing seems satisfactory anymore.
And I am worried this is where experience will lead me: a place where little or nothing tempts me.
A vague and shapeless monotony.
Rain dampened doorways back to smooth flesh and the taste of sweat, smoke in our mouths and psychotropic effects.
I am left unsure of what my needs are. Much of the good I’d often sought, has time after time come to ruin.