The drugs seem to ware off almost as soon as I think I’m beginning to feel them. My skin begins to crawl. There are things under my skin and things crawling over my body. My nerves are on fire. This would be almost funny if it wasn’t so damn unpleasant. Try never to become old. This is my advise coming from an old man. A bag of fat and bones and crawling things, waiting for death in a rubber room.

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