"I'm today's suicide. Stuck in a state of being unable to fall asleep and not wanting to wake up. Every passing minute makes me feel more like a shattered knee-cap sandwich. I might as well throw all of my trust, dignity, faith, and hope in the fireplace. This house is cold. This state is cold. That state is cold. The world is turning to shit, and everything I believe in along with it.

"Time for some new beliefs. I believe I'll dust off the old razor blade. Maybe, just maybe, I'll wait for Monday. Or maybe I'll just wait for one more full sixty-second minute of bad news.

"I've spent so much time complaining about the worthlessness of other that I never stopped to think that complaining about it does not make me valuable. To wit: I have never, in 33 years, left someone's life better than when I entered it. I leave a swath of cynicism, anger, despair, distrust, and loathing. I don't even engender fear; I'm not that powerful.

"I'm just one more second on a worthless clock that mindlessly ticks out the moments toward nothing."

The boy stopped speaking and lit a cigarette. He touched his tender, bloody knees. Again, he began to cry.

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