12:58 am

12:58 am. His eyelids only got heavier, sitting in front of the flickering monitor on his desk. He was, at the moment, content to stare and listen to the music that seemed to drip out of his speakers. What was the word? "Insouciance." Listless, careless, without emotion... Thoughts swam in and out of his head, always, always lingering just long enough to tease before another took it's fleeting place. Everything hurt, his bed was enticingly close, yet so far away. What was the word? "Paradox." He felt he was living in paradox.1

God, did everything hurt. An ache that throbbed and ebbed down to his bones, washed over him and dulled everything to a damned apathy. It was his curse, his humility, and his death sentence. He couldn't help but wonder as he listened to the distant melodies just how long he had left. Years of doctors, exams, therapy and nigh endless poking and prodding had only left him with the feeling that he was a walking time-bomb, doomed to die before his day. Pangs of sharp pain pierced his heart as he thought about it.2

A tear rolled down his cheek. Would he ever get married? Have kids? Would he make it to 22? Would he finish fucking Drivers-Ed?3

A quick sob, and he was back from the snares of his thoughts, back to the flickering monitor, to the distant melodies, back to the paradox. 1:09 am. Time to put on the happy face, to amble to bed, to live another day. But the tears were gone now; he was determined to continue his constant mission in life. Replace the fear with hope. Eat, drink, be merry. Live life another day. After all, another day's all you might have...4

His heart, sick with his curse, throbbed still, even as he drifted into a recluctant sleep.5