I have cancer, spread throughout my guts and rotting me, and I couldn’t joke it away or just dismiss it as another passing problem that could be put...on the back burner to be dealt with when I felt like it. Fuck. Fuckchristandshit. I have cancer. Not even twenty-four years old and I was laying on a hospital bed, rotting from the inside out, dying. I hadn’t even started living yet, for Christ’s sake, and this is how I had to deal with life? This is fairness, how it all comes down? How was I. "Sure," he replied, "say? You smoke dope?"Her head appeared around the door. "You got some?" she smiled.Mick rolled them a joint and they smoked it, washing it down with some cheap cask wine."It's good," she said, leaning on his shoulder, "I'm really floating. It's so hard to get good shit these days." Not that hard if you know who to call," Mick told her."Yeah, well, you're a musician, aren't you?" True!" Y'want some music... I feel like something, y'know, bluesy and slow. Y'don't mind?" Sure,. More

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