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.