Lately I need regular proof that I’m still alive. In my chest, I lack a beating heart. The more I try to keep myself together, the more I seem to fall apart. I doubt you‘d survive one night in my mind. It is dark outside but no sleep in sight. I’m in need of a soothing touch, but I’m alone, think and drink too much. All the problems with myself, all the problems with this world scream so loud, I can’t find a way out. Out of my head, off my bed, off my fucking knees. Out of this disease. But you know me, I won’t admit defeat.