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Vodka: Grant Me Three Wishes
My vision is blurred, but what I'm doing doesn't deserve vision, only a journey to not see, it is I this time that seeks the cold embrace of death. I can't see straight, the lines of reality and frailty are combined, inseparable. I love it and live it. In my head I know that I'm a prolific iconoclast, in the world that knows me, the small world, I am nothing. My thoughts are compressed with my disorders and phobias, only living in the tiny box of my mind. My words to them are pointless, no one will listen to them. I'd like to say the majority of the world is ignorant, but the truth is that the ones who would value these words have just not heard them.

In one hand I hold my .45, the only answer to my ills this night. In the path of removing my burdens by myself, holds the answer to the most ambivalent question there is. Suicide, is it cowardice or courage? Yes, I would be a coward to take 'the easy way out,' or be the bravest, in that I have the guts to do what others would be afraid to do, die.

I live parallel with the reapers. How do I know that I'm talking to one at a gas station. You know they are made to look like the living when they are to get you. I see them in true form. At the Quick-N-Easy, the black robed figure was ringing up my Vodka. I saw him in true form, he didn't know I can see him beyond the pimple faced cashier that others saw. "Out drinking tonight?" He asks me.

"Out killing tonight?" I held no contempt back in my questioning of this ancient bringer of death.

"Excuse me?" How demur, I just demand my Vodka, it will be my third fifth this evening. The dark figure then drops his sickle while ringing up my purchase.

"Sorry, dropped my cigarettes," he tries to tell me, as if I can't see the sickle.

"They both bring death I guess." His face wrinkles a little as I pay for my freedom in the bottle and start to walk out clutching the Vodka.

"When you miss us, were no where to be found, when you see us, we're all around." The cashier winked as he acknowledged in those words that I could see him. I gave him a thumbs up with my free hand and walked out into the night. Crazy reapers, I could use one tonight.

I get back to my dreary existence, all alone in my living room. The bottle next to me casts a gaze of attraction. My friend that is always there in these troubles, the Vodka bottle in all it's glory. I wonder if you're more than just a bottle with spirits in it, maybe there is another kind of spirit in you. You make

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