My father was murdered, my brother and I were there when it happened. I was just a kid at the time, but the bottom fell out of my whole world. It was a dark place, and I was in it. Until one day this friend gave me a pill, and I took it and all of a sudden I felt okay, better than okay. I felt good. So I kept taking them and I felt great. And when people would tell me that it wasn't real and try to get me to stop taking them I would just laugh, because it was real. How I felt was better, it was better than being miserable. But it almost killed me, I was dead for three minutes and let me tell you, when you're lying on a stretcher gasping for what you think are your last breaths you don't think that dying happy is better than living sad. Dying sucks. It hurts, in a way that I can't describe to you. And no, I don't believe that people can change, I don't believe you'll change but maybe I'm wrong, and maybe you'll wake up from that surgery and you'll be happy, but if you're dead, if you're rotting in the ground from some tumor that ate your brain you don't get a chance to find that out. One more thing and then I will go, I'm not a religious person, I don't believe in god, but if I did I wouldn't believe in a god that wanted you to die the horrible painful death that you will experience from a giant tumor that will take away your ability to eat, and speak, and see, and go to the bathroom, and breath on your own. That can't be god.
