Like a diamond in my throat...

Pure. Pristine. Flawless. As I look into the bottle, I look for those cualities, which I lack, inside a bottle of vodka.

Vodka is what life is not: Pure.

Pure pain. Pure salvation. Pure atonement.

Look into it. See? The very nature of my doom, my pristine doom. A pure, flawless and fresh suicide.

I bounce the bottle. Feel the balance. Watch those pristine bubbles.

Pure.

Let's measure the weight. Perfect.

The perfect vodka. A cristaline fluid, diamond like and like a diamond, it'll cut off my soul from my flesh as it rips my throat.

So, I drink my life away...