Was insanity really easier to accept than unconsciousness?

I mean, really: what kind of person could possibly dislike me?

And I was having too much fun to stop now.

I stood up. It was all too much. I could not even meet my own expectations, and to be asked to deal with all theirs too was suffocating.

Really now: If you can't get me my newspaper on time, how can you expect me to refrain from killing people?

The faster it ran away from me. And I found myself reasoning that perhaps one more beer would unlock the doors of perception.

you can’t use logic on human behavior.