So here it is, half an hour before New Year's, and I'm sitting along at the table drinking whisky and wondering what the point of it all is. I spend part of every day trying to find a reason to suffer through another day, but it seems so pointless and I'm really running out of excuses. There's all these people around me, but I'm just so alone. Another year? How many more? I know I don't even have the balls to do anything about it, so why even talk about it? I'll just keep drinking myself to sleep, until one day I don't wake up.