i’m writing my funeral eulogy for you:
he lived too long.
let’s be honest;
who would’ve imagined
he’d live to age 35?
who didn’t he piss off?
he would get fucked up,
wander off to who knows where,
and then come back to insult you.
he’d pass out in random spots;
show up at random places;
bring a copious random amount of drugs,
and yeah, he lived too damn long.
finally, we can all stop babysitting,
and move on with our now, very,
very, very, very miserable lives.