I bring Death into this world.

I bring Death into this world when I’m terribly sick. As when I was last week, for five days around January 22. Sickens me to my stomach how boring and lame it is to be sick. Nothing worse than to be alive but sick. I bring Death out of the sheer boredom of being sick.

So don’t get frightened when you see him around. He is for me, he is all mine.

Like you, I know nothing will ever happen to me. Like you, I know I will never die, go on living.

I bring him for comfort, I bring him for company. Sarcastic little bitch, he is funny as hell. He, the death of all that is living, is here to make my life a little interesting while I lie dead on my white bed.

I let him hover around in my pistachio room in the Himalaya. I let him make all the jokes, I let him roast me while the fever is burning my veins.

Until, that is, I’m ready to rise from the bed, life in my feet, and take a shower so good as if it’s my first shower. Until I step out of the bathroom, life in my feet, and kick him out of the room.

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