Dead are dead. I would never choose that. Only bad things would happen.

Pain. My body speaks to me of physical pain. I should listen. Emotional pain makes me human. I am still human right?

Disease… ? I’ve had children. My family will have everything they need to build better when I’m gone. I am content.

Riche$. I’ll take all of it. I’d lock that shit up so tight that my grandchildren’s grandchildren would have something to draw from if they had need. And then I’d fuck around and have fun until that disease came for me.