I feel bad about my last blog, and I'm not sure why. I feel like I shouldn't have written any of that stuff down, about my grandpa and his state. I honestly hate seeing him like this-- literally hate. Somebody so full of life being claimed by a hospital bed, shivering beneath three or four hospital sheets. It's inhumane and it makes me sad.
I wish death didn't exist. I wish we could live forever. But we can't.
You remember what I said in my last blog? "This is death: It takes the strongest of men and breaks them, the most beautiful of women and makes them hideous, the sharpest of men and makes them hopelessly forgetful."
Well, I forgot something. There are things that death can never affect.
Death cannot affect the truly happy man. That kind of man is happy even when bad things happen-- death cannot touch him.
Anyway...
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