"No More Games. No More Bombs. No More Walking. No More Fun. No More Swimming. 67. That is 17 years past 50. 17 more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always bitchy. No Fun—for anybody. 67. You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax—This won't hurt."
It's the first Anniversary of his death. Drink it, smoke it, shoot it, ingesst it, snort it, huff it, then let it find your brain. When it does, look around yourself and write 250 of the most honest words you've ever written about your surroundings. Then leave it somewhere for someone else to find.
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