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I wrote a bunch of things I never finished, had plans I never saw through.

I never fell in love, never made close friends, I was never any good to anyone.

In 2018, I learned I had Stage 4 cancer.

Please, live a beautiful life. Don't squander it pointlessly.

UPDATE: As of February 2021, I'm celebrating my third diagnosis-aversary, thanks to Alectinib. I'm addle-pated from morphine and exhaustion, I'm achey, and I'd be a lot better off if I'd gone to visit the doctor when I first started suffering weird symptoms, but at least I'm still alive. So far.

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UPDATE UPDATE: here in October 2022, an extensive MRI found fourteen spots on my brain. I'm going to get them taken care of along with anything else that pops up, because the Good Lord filled me with spite and bitterness my whole life so I would have the strength to cling to existence by whatever unholy means I can.

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE: Make that twenty-four. Oh, well.

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