Ah Dimitri,
You're that guy in college we all knew. You would talk of having big game, but in the end we all knew you cried yourself to sleep. Half of your conquests were chicks so drunk they would probably fuck a decaying gorilla carcass, and the other half were so bat-shit insane that they would do it sober. We would roll our eyes at your zany sexual escapades (as if none of us could do what it is you do). The difference between that guy and you, Dimitri, is that "that guy" eventually grew out of it.
One could prescribe to Dimitri's lifestyle, and possibly delude himself into believing that his existence has any sort of merit or meaning. He just might make it to age 50 without putting a .22 barrel in his mouth and pulling the trigger.
If I were Dimitri, I'd save myself about 20 years and just fucking do it now.