Normal.
You, too?
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What's normal?
I watched my surprise mentor/recent friend/devout Buddhist John Haydon die at 53, consumed by a cancer of absolutely no use. John had a use, to human progress anyway. The cancer overwhelmed John's torso and killed him, painfully.
Guess not.
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Before my first kiss, I figured life would turn out pretty normal.
"In the end." Who knew what the END was? I was a freshman in high school.
I was a brain attached to a bag of bones attached to an unregulated sack of hormones.
Catastrophe at that point?