You know what the scariest thing to be told as a child is?
You have a genetic predisposition to dying:
Addiction,
Heart disease,
Cancer–
That’s just your father’s side.
As a young adult,
You think
Oh that’s not going to be me.
And only after you wrestled with stopping smoking,
And struggled with not drinking,
Struggling with yourself for one moment of sobriety
So you could finally think level headedly,
Do you realize:
Shit.
It might be me
Next on the slab.
It might be me
And instead of thinking clearly
I go ahead and take a tab
To alter my reality
Because I felt like I didn’t have access to the tools
Necessary to be cool with the situation
And approach it with a level head and maturity
To get out of this slump of depression
To inspire a nation,
Like I always wanted to.
