Hold your breath

Have you ever been sitting in the bathtub, your whole body submerged in water, and your head is just peeking above the water line? You're almost here, you're almost there, your in the middle. And maybe you think about something bad, maybe you start to feel a little worthless, so you stick your head under the water, and stay there.

Your heart beat becomes a clock. The beats become a ticking. Bubbles float to the top of the water and you can feel them trying to rise you up, but you fight hard to stay below zero. You fight hard to be a negative. And right when you start to feel the darkness swarming in, you bob back up to the surface and breathe in air like it's the most delicate piece of air you would ever taste.

I can make it to a minute and 15 seconds before I start to slip too far into the negative numbers. Maybe I could go longer if I didn't pollute my lungs with nonsense.

It's all a game though.
It's a rubber band; how far you can stretch before the elastic has had enough. It doesn't matter if you scar the elastic, or if you're just holding on by a few strings, you become the winner when you break completely into two pieces.

But the silly thing is, sometimes after you've broken off, while you're drifting to the ground, you regret. You don't want to be broken anymore, so you try to glue yourself back together quick before it's gone too far, but you're already sinking into the negative thousands now, and you just lost your hands. So gluing anything together is impossible.

Good luck