Life; a game of russian roulette.
Each day a pull on the trigger,
each second an eternity of dread.
One day, it'll ****.
But for now, it just amplifies every feeling ever evoked.
Adrenaline.
A motivation to live, to try, to risk it all.
A gamble with whatever gods exist,
and if none, then a gamble with fate.
A gamble with luck.
Relying so heavily on something you can't control.
The feeling of weightlessness,
the suspense,
the relief of a click
instead of pain.
That adrenaline is motivation.
That adrenaline fuels life.
An angry, desperate bid for life,
but one nonetheless.

As the days drag on, the familiar adrenaline wears off,
revealing the common second stage.
Sometimes the last stage.
Exhaustion.
Before it was relief,
sinking into the suspense,
letting it consume every emotion.
Now, it drowns.
Slowly and methodically draining any will to live
until the lasts of it are gone,
leaving only exhaustion in its place.
Exhaustion doesn't react to each passing day,
each empty cartridge lost,
just stares in a weirdly ready trance.
Until the trigger is pulled.
Until the pain consumes every second,
dragging them into days, weeks, years.
And then
nothing.
And then
everything.
done.
gone.