He Died at 2:25 A.M. Like a Roach: Alone, After a Life of Rot

Photo by Crawford Jolly on Unsplash

He died at 2:25 a.m.

Not peacefully.

Not surrounded.

Not held.

Because no one wanted to be there.

And he earned that.

He had small cell lung cancer, diagnosed in like 2020.

It spread to his brain.

Dozens of tumors.

He had a stroke or two.

Then shutdown. Then silence.

No one came.

Not because they didn’t know.

But because they remembered.

Photo by Jon Butterworth on Unsplash

This Is Not Mourning. This Is Documentation.

Let’s be clear about who he was:

A piece of fucking shit.

He barely worked.

Even when married, he didn’t provide.

Didn’t help.