by Robert Gryfft
He decided to end his life.
He found a hole to die in. He got a job to pay for alcohol and rent.
He took up television. He took up cigarettes and casual sex. He started enjoying himself.
He found Love. He created Art. He decided to live his life.
He had a heart attack.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Life
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2 comments:
So it goes.
Vonnegut said in three what I merely attempted in fiftyfive.
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