We lost one guy to alcohol tonight. He was probably swapping sweat with Frankenstein's wife. They deserve each other after sprinkling us with spit every time he opens his mouth, although I'm still a bit worried where he is and how he's doing. Probably happier than my current disposition, I suppose. Lucky bastard. Cheeky, but lucky.
Dark, darker, darkest, there is no difference. All hurts the same. Pain, everlasting, lingering. Pain, day and night. The hours are uncertain. Anything can happen now. Thinking about it hurts. Truth is unreliable. The romance is dead. My heart, it is lost. Unrecoverable, hateful, distrusting. Wishful, perhaps, but I have lost everything before and survived still. This one was special. So special. Embittered, the tip of my tongue tastes. The flavour of my life. Cuisine of kitchens unwanted. It burns, to the heart. I do not understand. I do not understand.