I guess I could take a sleeping pill and sleep at will and not have to go through what I go through. I guess I should take Prozac, right, and just smile all night at somebody new, somebody not too bright but sweet and kind who would try to get you off my mind. I could leave this agony behind which is just what I'd do if I wanted to, but I don't want to get over you. I could listen to my therapist, pretend you don't exist and not have to dream of what I dream of; I could listen to all my friends and go out again and pretend it's enough, or I could make a career of being blue--I could dress in black and read Camus, smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth like I was 17 that would be a scream but I don't want to get over you.

/The Magnetic Fields/