That surreal moment when you wake up 15 minutes before you are supposed to be at work, when you reek of pot and cigarettes even though you don’t smoke either, when hanging out in the basement with a bunch of guys chilled out listening to rap and drinking from a red solo cup is so much better than going to a legislative event and every suit is buying you drinks. That moment you feel irrelevant to life. Which is fucking stupid, you have more to offer than what you do for a living. But you’re sitting in some bar with a glass of wine, listening to the huff-and-puff bullshit around you, wondering what it would feel like to cut your hand. Just a quick slice. When you call in to work the next morning with some lame excuse before even getting out of bed, before you see the shower curtain on the bathroom floor, before you see the vomit in the kitchen sink, before realizing you have no recollection of how you got home. The moment when you see this golden face enjoying the simple pleasure of sunlight. He never wants to hurt himself. Why are you so determined to destroy yourself?