Tom put a pair of matchsticks in between his eyelids to prevent them from getting shut. I reckon I need some similar arrangement. With my eyes desperately willing to get some rest, and stomach aching in hunger, my mind refusing to co-operate, and my ears getting numb, I am still trying to mug. Guess what??!! I have a test tomorrow, and this time I wanna write on my own.
The smoke is not really getting absorbed in my lungs, the pores have been shut by suspended particulates I guess. My body is craving for some nice pegs of alcohol, whiskey!! I am really missing you now. I have forgot the last time I met you. Most probably have been some six months or so. I need you now. My tobacco pouch is empty. So, I am not getting allowed to have myself transformed into a steam engine either. The cigarettes are there though, but on verge of getting finished. Coke have stopped talking with me. And I just hate tea or coffee. God! Please show me some way.
PS: I am still not planning to slash my wrist, and boil myself inside an autoclave as yet.