I look forward to going to bed every night. It's just to be away from the taunts and the busy and the isolation. I hope that when I die, it's inside a peaceful, yearned-for sleep like the one I'm headed for tonite, and I hope that I don't have any notion that it's coming. And when I'm gone, I'd like to be cremated, if you're sure it won't hurt. Scatter my ashes in the Atlantic, please.