And so I thought to myself,

"If I haven't found it by now, what's the point in going on? There's probably only more heartache ahead."

and the chance no longer seemed worth taking,

so I tried to drown my moribund soul

beneath the rolling waves of a heavy blanket

and though I found a small night waiting there behind my eyelids,

no sleep came

only vague dreams and an occasional itch

so on and on I lay in torpid expectancy

 and while I waited for my turn to surrender,

time slowed to a crawl

and then to nothing at all

and I thought,

"eternity would be alot easier if I'd only remembered to bring a book"

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