Fuck all this you know
The professor of the Shakespeare class I’m currently taking…is dead. He was just writing us all emails like three days ago. Now he’s fucking dead—cancer. Yeah I’m not close to him but cancer has taken everyone I’ve lost.
And fuck that shit about oh this causes cancer and that causes cancer. I mean yeah, some things do, but my aunt who smoked two packs a day for fucking 40 years has outlived goddamn everyone. It’s a fucking crap-shoot.
Death is a crap-shoot.
I mean I have serious mental problems and I’m not afraid of dieing. Shrink says I should realize that I matter more and like give a shit more about me—idk.
I take a step forward and life kicks me in the taco and stabs me in the heart. I almost got no heart left for fucks sake.
Just forgive my free flow thought writing. See I say that and then I don’t actually care.