“Welcome, and thank you for coming.”
Bullshit. Bull. Shit. That's all this is going to be. An entire bucket full of shit straight out of a raging bull's backside.
Fucking therapy sessions. That's what they've put her on now. Sitting in a room with other people in her 'situation', forcing her to open up about the thing that's ultimately going to bring around her demise. They think it's good for her. They think it's healthy.
What part of death is healthy? Surely, the question answers itself. Death is the furthest thing from healthy you could possibly get. I mean, come on. To die, half of the time it's because you're sick. When you're sick, you're not healthy. So, in that case, to die is to be unhealthy. Right?
And to talk about it too. Jesus Christ, these people talk their fucking arses off. I've seen the films. All of them sat in a little circle, spilling out their sob stories and hoping that it will make everything alright. Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. And guess what? No one lives in the end. So they've just wasted precious oxygen that they could have used to find an actual fucking cure in order to make them 'feel more at ease'.
Fuck that. Get your sorry arse out of this room and find a way to guarantee safety for these people. You sit there with your notebook and your look of compassion and think you fucking own the place. Well, you don't. You don't own anything. Come back to me when you've worked out the way to erase cancer from ever existing. Maybe then you'll get some respect out of this guy.
“We're here in a welcoming environment to help you all come to terms with the unfortunate news that you've received recently.”
I'm half tempted to punch the idiot in the face. For multiple reasons. Let me explain.
Firstly, this is not a 'welcoming environment'. This is a poxy little room in the community centre in London. If you were to ask me what I would class as a 'welcoming environment', this would not be the place that first pops into my head. Home is what I call a 'welcoming environment'. Walking into my front room, the smell of cinnamon buns and almonds enveloping my face like a blanket. Seeing the pictures of my loved ones hung up on the walls, smiling down at me like they're actually there with me. Looking into the eyes of the most precious being in the whole of existence. That is 'welcoming'. This is not. So learn to use your adjectives correctly, got it?
Secondly, a round of applause for the understatement of the fucking millennia. 'Unfortunate news'. Alright, yeah, let's run with that, shall we? It's unfortunate that Clara has something running in her veins that's inevitably going to bring about the end of her life. It's unfortunate that she'll be ripped away from this planet years too soon and leave everyone that knows and adores her behind to pick up the shattered bits of their hearts at her departure. It's unfortunate that I'll have to stand at her grave every day for the rest of my miserable existence and simply remember the feel of her skin and the sound of her laugh. Yes. 'Unfortunate'. Another appalling use of an adjective right there.
And lastly. How the fuck can anyone come to terms with dying? I'm sorry, but how is that even possible? How can you stare death straight in the eye and say 'okay, I'm good with this'? There is no way that anyone can do that? I don't care about the horseshit they shovel down your throats in films. That coming to terms with your death is something that is healthy and makes it easier for you. No. It doesn't. It drags the thing out far longer than is needed because then you're waiting for it. Waiting is the worst part of anything. So 'coming to terms' with this is not on the agenda for anyone in this room, I don't think.
“Here is a place of sharing. No judging. No wrong answers. Just honesty.”
Oh, give it a fucking rest. Honesty is not what is needed here. Why be honest about this whole thing? It makes it even worse than it already is. Half of the people in here are dying, and the other half are going to be left behind when they do. Does that really need saying over and over again? Is that really something that we need to be honest about?
