That son of a bitch hung on the whole time we were trying to get away. He was the type who did not know what giving up meant. The only way this guy would stop is if he died. He was going to be the next obstacle to face.
This state of suspend oblivion presents itself to me now; an hour ago; a year ago. The lack of feeling, a thrust of emotions I recognize it by, when I become to tired to fight it off. I try, I truly do if only for the few who may love me.