Yes, dreary. Yes, odd. Read. Review.
I was not nearly so careful this dreary evening. Not in the usual
sense do I use that word. Dreary. The atmosphere about me was most jovial,
the company good, the weather beautiful. It was within myself, I believe,
from which the dreariness emanated, seemingly from the core of me,
spreading to the very ends of my toes and to the tips of my fingers,
spreading out to encompass this page.
But I do lose my original thread. As I mention, I was not nearly as
careful as I should've been, and was subsequently a bit lax on how much I
drank. This did not help my mood, and I seemed to sink more and more deeply
into my somber despair.
My friends, good friends, close friends, people I've known since I
was but a child, did not notice, far into their cups themselves. I do not
blame them for such, mayhaps my subtle despondency was mildly contagious
this evening. Or perhaps their vitality overshadowed my lack of life.
And so it comes to this. A choice. Succumb to the overwhelming sorrow
and inexplicably overpowering despair or continue the mockery, the charade,
the playacting. I study the little teal-blue pills all lined up on the
counter and wonder. Will the end be swift? Shall I drift off joyfully,
finally filling the empty spot in my soul where the emotions seem to
disappear? Or shall the black hole slowly eat away at the very fiber of my
being, spreading the darkness more quickly until it encompasses me
completely, I've succumbed?
Then, nothing left, it collapses.
I pick up the first pill.