So, I went to see a old and dear friend in the hospital today. She was apparantly almost pronounced dead and in a coma for three days.  You know she had always been a bante rooster.  With the biggest heart.

I walked in the door hugged her and said. You gotta get off the meth.  There was a lot of denials and twitching around.  It was like she was crawling off the bed at me. We talked for a while.  About life and such.

I watched as the Hodpital guys come to pick her up.  It broke my heart.  Not gonna lie.  I cried a little.



I have always had an addictive personality. I thought. There before the grace off God go I.  In really afraid she won't stay.  I fear I will attend her funeral.