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So, it is thanksgiving, and this is the last fucking turkey I'll ever have to look at until I look at the mirror next time. My xwife and my daughter brought it out for me and they were going to stay and eat with me but my daughter started crying so I made them leave. It's bad enough knowing that you're dying without haveing someone blubbering all over you. Did I mention that I was dying? I have terminal cancer of the lung, and it's metastasized to my bones and some too my brain. I'm taking chemotherapy right now, and I've taken xray treatments for the bones earlier. I've had all of that I can have, they said that any more would kill me. Hah! I said. So what? But they won't do it anyway, and I guess I'm doing OK by their standards. I'm living in a small resort town close to the big city in OKlahoma where I made a killing in real estate, and my xwife and other lawyers took most of it away from me. As I mentioned before, my pshrink wants me to write this all up, he thinks that it would be good for me, and I thought of puting it on the net myself, I've seen some other diaries out there of some people who aren't dying, and that one guy that invented LSD did this too. I was wanting to put some pictures of me up here, kind of a before and after, one with a cigarette in my mouth and a smile on my face, one with the oxygen tube in my nose and not frowning, but just trying to breathe. Another part of that is that I don't really want anyone to know who I am. I'm supposed to be on an extended vacation from my company, and if everyone knew that I was going to die real soon it would hurt the company's reputation. Like keeping secrets from the stockholders wouldn't, um. So I must remain anonymous until I die. Hell of a deal. Tomorrow I'll talk about my past. Now I'm going to take a nap. |