pwndcake

The Scene:

I'm walking into a hospital room. On the bed is me, 16 years ago. I'm young, 19, and very - very - angry. I sit on the end of the bed and start talking. Simple stuff, observations in the key of funny. My humor of choice is The Fool. The observant idiot. Ignorance and shallowness are a style of comedy all their own when done by the perceptive and the aware. I am by no means great at it, but I've been known to make people laugh. Mostly myself, and that's what's important right now.

I'm staring up at future (present) me, and I'm furious. Fuck this guy. What the hell is he talking about?

"Hey asshole, my life is over. Look around you. I'm in a fucking hospital. I'm dying."

"Yes. Yes you are." I lean forward over my younger self. "You're a dead man. You may not live to see the end of the day. You may not make it through tomorrow. You might not live to see the end of the year, or even the end of the century. You are looking at a world you are leaving.
So relax, make your peace, and learn to laugh. If you've got to go, you might as well enjoy yourself."

I still think I'm an asshole. Both of us.