I wish I could delete some of my thoughts.

I'm trying my best to change what isn't right but goddamn, this has got to be the most difficult challenge of my life.


Olive juice.

Her Story.

I'm going to try to write everyday...

Paramedics brought a woman into the ER yesterday DOA, which means "dead on arrival." The doctors worked on her no more than five minutes seeing as it was too late. It was sad. She weighed 500 pounds, had a full grown beard(thicker than I could ever grow it), and the saddest part of all, she was only 32. Her stench consumed me. I know it's harsh to say, but the one thing that always gets me is the smell. I can still smell her now. The women obviously hadn't bathed in a very long time. The only thing I could wonder was how does someone let themselves go like that? The only obvious answer I could muster was depression. But, what ignited the depression? Seeing a dead body always evokes the thought that this body was a living person with a story. Sure enough, the story of this woman began to manifest as her two brothers who came in to see her corpse. I watched as they walked into the room full of fear and watched as they departed drenched with sadness.

She was 32 and had two brothers.