Comfortably Numb

Everything happens for a reason.

A body lying in its coffin rarely resembles the person that used to walk around in that same body due to the thick, waxy makeup. I believe that's so we don't get too attached to the body, and so that the idea of death doesn't grip us too tightly.

Now it's a little difficult talking to people without thinking for a moment - would this be our last conversation?

Closing Time

Wanna hear something stupid? No, not the song.

Some fat, ugly no less, drunk called me anorexic, except he pronounced it as aneROKsik. Since when did E sound like O, in English?

Anyhow, here's the gist of the conversation.

Fat Jerk: Dear, are you anorexic? You know what's anorexic?
Me: Yeah i know. But i'm not.
Fat Jerk: You are... (in that annoying fatherly manner)
Me: No i'm not. I love food. I do eat.
Fat Jerk: Anorexic (not anorexia) is like that. You think you're not but you are.
Me: I said i'm not. Do you even know me?
Fat Jerk: I don't know you, but i know you're anorexic.
Me: Are you drunk?
Fat Jerk: Yes. But the thing is, drunk to what extent? *gibberish*

How does a stranger have the right to tell you what you are? I mean, i would know what i am and what i am not, wouldn't i? Like, i know i'm 21. Nobody can come tell me "you're not 21. You think you are but you're not". Up theirs!