We grow old so quickly. Walking rotten bodies at age 35. It isn’t how it used to be, you know? We choose this now. We choose to wrinkle, walk slowly, die early.

Breaking bodies, moldering minds, decomposing from the inside out. Drinking the poison with a smile. Injecting ourselves with a false feeling. Snorting yourself into something you wish was real. Smoking your headache away only to receive blackened lungs. 

“Addiction is a disease”  she says to the man she just met. 

She doesnt know he was diagnosed with an incurable cancer. 

The man nods. He smiles and turns away.