Fatalistic

This may be my last post. I think I've been poisoned. I feel impurities rampaging through my veins, my body wants to vomit but it cannot. There is a chemical taste in my insides, almost like dish washing soap. My vision is becoming distorted, and my body twitches like that of a cockroach sprayed with poison. What the fuck is going on? Relax, Relájate I tell you. This too will all pass. Rasputin survived. Why not you? Was it the Yerba Mate? The impure drinking water? The Cabernet Sauvingon? Was it the God I don't believe in? Does he want me dead? I can't just drift on, I might get lost, stay strong. Fuck death, I own my life. It's my choice for when my time to die is, no one else's, mind over matter. Forget the dizziness of this sick spell, soldier on, keep moving. Just stay in motion. I wonder what I'm going to do tonight if I survive this. Go to a bar with my roommate? Go to a bar with some girl? Have a girl over my house? Have sex? Listen to music and drink wine? Pound vodka alone in a corner? Contemplate my future? Senselessly order things online using my dwindling budget? Do some long overdue editing on a fetish video? Cook food since I haven't eaten all day? Go delirious? Meet my end due to a mysterious poisoning? Read a book? Watch a movie? Sleep? Steal a car? Do drugs? The possibilities are endless I tell you, endless. It's too many permutations to consider at this late date. Fuck, it feels like I drank ammonia. I need to get up. I need to fight this. I need to induce vomiting. I need to go. Goodbye.