I am presented with itemized lists of experience that flow down and down, make me question my consciousness, I sleep and I rest, then I wake up to this list killing me slowly and painfully and I hate it, but then I see love of life on the horizon of the list, heading towards me like a Mack truck... but I see, that as soon as it hits me the love of life won't be there any more and I will spend the rest of eternity trying to find that truck to run me over, to make me love once again but it won't be there, and it will leave me in the desert again, groping for that bliss that became me once. And with each grope I drop one of many things that I stole, and the angels pick it up and take it back to heaven or the devil's fill their bellies and digest it back again to shit all over me.
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