Sometimes you just want a little peace and quiet. Some rest. Away.
You had a bad day.
Your face is…uh…missing, but you happen to live in some bumfuck Third World country.
And you find yourself living a strange, Alice In Wonderland, backward rendition of Harlan Ellison’s “I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream.”
You just wanna die or sleep, or forget this mortal toil. Life sucks and now you are bidding it adieu way too quickly and a bunch of two-bit medics won’t stop pointing at you. The more they point, the more it becomes apparent they haven’t the slightest clue what to do to fix you up. For there is nothing they can do because the depth of their medical supplies are boxes of bandaids.
No one should be able to say “your face is dangling” while you’re still alive to hear it.
Life has no meaning, does it?
We are born, we cry, we suffer, we laugh like fools at nothing, and then we suffer, we cry, and if we’re fortunate, we die before we cry again.