The best and deepest sleep I have is when I imagine myself being killed; throat slit open with the quick succession of a blade from left to right, or stabbed repeatedly in the back, face down on cold unforgiving pavement, or struck by a car going 60 miles an hour, watching my body be tossed back in a graceful arch, limp form twisting and hitting the ground, rolling, skin being torn from the palms of my hands by the rough asphalt. These are my sweet dreams.
Goodnight.