His dreams were becoming more vivid. More lucid. More real to him. Every night he'd dream and every night he'd feel more alive then ever. Being awake and being asleep are one in the same when you feel nothing, but when you feel while asleep, then are you awake?

He hadn't left his bed in days, forcing himself to sleep just to feel. Just to remember what it's like to care, to have emotion, to be loved. Not changing his clothes, not showering, not eating. Sleep was his way of self destruction.

The bottle of pills lay poured over on the night table.

Cornflower blue pills of self loathing scattered across the night stand. The bottle almost empty, how many would he take at a time?

Not enough.

Was he even actually asleep? Or just in a drug induced state of subconsciousness?

At this point, it didn't matter, any feeling was a good feeling.

Every dream was like being born again. A new experience, a new life, a new you. Everything you wish you could have, everything you wish you could be, available over the counter.

The new way of life was finally taking it's toll on him. Everything was going fine, but the stress. The emptiness. The nothing. The feeling of not being in total control has taken over.

It's not the same as it was three months ago. He was in total control. He was the dictator.

Slowly but surely, he lost that power.

Moving so quickly in his career, he found that the real competition lies ahead and everything before was just filler. He thought he earned everything, but he didn't. It was just there to give him the boost, to make him a star, to get people to hate him. Then to have him pounded into the ground.

He was starting to realize this fact.

Set up for failure.

Twice in a life time can be more then most people can tolerate.

Just as the hand on a clock struck half passed emptiness, his eyes opened. Glazed over and confused he just looked up to the white ceiling.

Was he in heaven?

I'm afraid not.

His limp and lifeless hand swatted at the night stand trying to find more of his sleep in a dissolvable plastic, but with the lack of emotional and physical feeling, the pills just end up flying to the floor, mixed in with the carpet.

A wince of discontent came over his face after realizing what he had done, followed by a groan.

After being in bed for a week, he almost forgot how to walk. Stumbling across the carpet to the bathroom on the other side of the room was a chore. The medicine feeling resting in his stomach was stronger then ever. M

More of a reason to go back to sleep and preferably not get back up.

The dimmers on the bathroom lights were set to low. After being in darkness for days, anything lighter then a dim glow seemed to be the sun inches away from his face.

Leaning over the sink, his arms were weak. He could barely hold himself up. His face pale, his eyes sagging, days worth of growth on his chin. Glancing at the mirror, he couldn't bring his eyes away from his own.

"What am I doing to myself?" His whispered, hoping for an answer but receiving none.

Turning on the water, listening to the liquid hitting the bottom of the sink was refreshing to him. Waiting a moment for the water to get a bit warmer, he continued to stare at the mirror and examine himself.

"What have you let yourself come to? This isn't you." His voice was raspy and low, days without speaking will do this to you.

"You're better then this, don't let it go back to how it used to be. Get back on your feet and get back into the action. You know what you need to do. Just do it. You've lost everything and feel nothing, what makes you feel?" Speaking to himself like someone else was in the room, came as natural as fighting to him. Oddly enough, it's the one thing that may have kept him sane.

"You need that rush." He splashed water on his face. Most rushed off, but the beads stuck and slowly dripped down his face as he continued to stare into his own eyes.

"You need the rush to feel. You've lived on it for so long, you don't know how to live any other way. Keep yourself going in your off time and everything will be fine. You don't want to be stuck here the rest of your life do you?" Finally breaking the stare, he stood up straight and stretched out his arms and leaned backwards, his back cracking.

"Get out there and find that rush." His voice was back to normal. Confident, ready, determined.