Reality is an even scarier thing than shit-covered death.

That's why, lately, I've been doing drugs.

I used to worry that after I had sex I wouldn't feel anything. I was afraid that I would lose my soul, that I would lose all sense of identity and become nothing more than an empty shell. Having since survived several sexual relationships I have found the opposite to be true. As I get older, my consciousness continues to grow, and with it the capacity to experience emotions on a wider scale than I ever thought possible. Maybe that's why old people don't talk too much, and when they do, it's usually about nothing. Maybe it's because only the interesting die young.