Vomiting into the toilet with zen tranquility, because I understand why seven tequilas was a mistake and am simply undergoing the aftermath of my decision.
Staring down the barrel of a gun and experiencing perfect serenity because the universe is beyond my control.
Strapped to a chair and having my fingers tenderized with a meat mallet, but its okay, because all my available decisions have been made.
Literally on fire, but this is fine, because there’s nothing around to put me out.