My Bleeding Ass

There's a snot clot in my brain, and there's air comin out my ear. this is not right. and it's almost christmas. fuck germs. but i've said it before and i will say it again (and again after this probably): my anger will keep me strong. i will fight this. with cigarettes and cold damp bedrooms, my health will prevail. after all, i am young and vital. i am invincible. BOOYEAH. in your face sickness. ah, who am i kidding. i'm dying. i'm absolutely positive it's ebola this time. i've begun preparation of my bleeding room. i strung tarps up all around my kitchen, and i ordered one o' them neat sharper image air filtration things. i hope it arrives before i die. but maybe it's that strain of ebola that only kills monkeys. maybe i'll make it. i can pull through. i will live to see christmas, with all its chia pets, and clapper grandeur. i will live. god almighty. nothin can stop me now. unless it's the kind of ebola that kills monkeys and people. i'm fucked. i won't live through the night. oh my god, i think my ass is bleeding right now. if only i'd stayed in that damn hot zone for one more day. i could have found a cure. i could have saved my own bleeding ass. but, now, it's futile. i give up. i'm not angry anymore. i have come to terms with my mortality. goodbye cruel world.

p.s. please wrap my body in the tarps of my bleeding room and burn the corpse in the backyard. no matter what i say, or how much i ask you politely not to, it is the only way to prevent infection of the masses.