I’m here. Today I’m awake. I do wish to be asleep. A long, dreamless sleep.

Each day is a new lease on life. And each day, I squander it, thoughtlessly. Selfishly. Destroying my body. Punishing my body. Neglecting my mind. Escaping my mind with its swirling thoughts.

I am comforted by the prospect of stepping outside my body, even for a moment. As the alcohol invades my bloodstream, I feel free. Released from the anxiety, the pain, the fight for life. But why do I fight?

Slowly, I’m shutting down. Shutting the world out. I need silence. Crave it.

An eternal sleep.

What does it mean to be happy? Why do I want it, when it can so easily be snatched away?