'Blank mind and a bottle of wine while the world goes mad,
I am a black hole, imbibing time
Like I Imbibe this drink, gulping it down desperately, enduring the burn,
searching for momentary satisfaction, a sliver of surrealism
to cure me of this grotesque reality that I cannot wake from.
...Even the smoke dancing from my mouth exits clenched teeth.
Empty room and a bottle of wine incarcerates me with its charms of solitude, its perks of possibility for such misery I might revel in it enough to feel some glimmer of hope.
The only hope I have got in here is that I might throw enough venom down my throat to mute my frontal lobes screams.
The walls melt and I watch, relishing in their disintegration.
Can’t feel anything, not even time.'
