chronicle of a death foretold

something has gone awry. the doc says, "abstain from spicy foods, caffeine, nicotine, softdrinks, stress, etc, etc." i have exhausted youth. bad, bad, baaaaaaad.

of course, the stubborn rebel called me wouldn't take heed. the pills i pop would work doc, don't worry. this heart can still take blows. and if it turns out i'm just delusional, then there's nothing i can do about it, is there? atleast i've already qualified for graduate study diploma. "But stupid idot, the trappings of this material world cannot rescue you from impending doom," cloaked dagger would quip. "got to hell!" i'd say.