Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Cottony clouds carried me to a massive golden gate that stretched up into brilliant light, and I waited in a very long line only Dr. Seuss could dream of. I needed a cigarette, so I asked and asked until someone pointed up to black clouds that spelled out: "NO SMOKING FOR ETERNITY," so I found the nearest angel, coaxed him out of borrowing his sword, and killed a sweat old man (who was dead anyway) and now I'm enjoying my cigarette in Hell.
The anesthesia helped with the anxiety, but the sound of sharpening blades amplified in the darkness and I felt a painless tug somewhere below. I accepted the relief of the drug, as it washed away the thought that these weren't doctors doing this to me.