What Happened? How Did I Get Here?

Maybe This Is Why I Sleep Only A Few Hours A Month. I Don't Want To Die Again. This Has Become Clearer And Clearer To Me Recently, A Desire So Sharp And Focused I Can Hardly Believe It's Mine: I Don't Want To Die. I Don't Want To Disappear. I Want To Stay.

A Month Ago There Was Nothing On Earth I Missed, Enjoyed, Or Longed For. I Knew I Could Lose Everything And Not Feel Anything, And I Rested Easy In That Knowledge. But I'm Growing Tired Of Easy Things.

I Adapt To Things Quickly, Including Good Things, Which I Wish I Could Shut Off Sometimes.

Are We All Just Dark Age Doctors, Swearing By Our Leeches? We Crave A Greater Science. We Want To Be Proven Wrong.

The Shadows Of The Room Pool In The Lines Of Our Faces, Draining Our Eyes Of Hue. "there's Nothing Left Worth Saying.