My name is Phil, and I want to kill myself. It has been over a decade since I last tried to end my life, but I am still, and always will be, suicidal. As a survivor of suicide attempts, I’ve learned to draw comparisons to the manner by which those with alcohol or narcotics addictions achieve sobriety: not as a goal to be achieved, but as a state of mind that must be consciously and continuously maintained. Life is a series of moments strung together that keep us ticking over, much like the complex inner workings of a Swiss timepiece. The intricate mechanical system of pinions, wheels, and levers work to a magnificent level of precision that grip and release the passage of time from one brief moment to the next. The measure is precise and the consequences of not meeting it are grave. It is our perception of these fleeting moments, day in and day out, that define us as person. For each moment we attach a weight, a weight that hangs on our soul. How many weights can one soul bear before the mechanism of life breaks down and our time stops?