Misty

You really shouldn’t smoke. Even if you’re already dead.

On television, a man shouted “Te amo... Te amo...” again and again to a dark-haired girl with brown eyes and feathery long eyelashes while he kicked her down a flight of stairs.

If you’re reading this, welcome back to reality. This is where all that glorious, unlimited potential of your youth has led. All that unfulfilled promise. Here’s what you’ve done with your life.
Your name is Peter Wilmot.
All you need to understand is you turned out to be one sorry sack of shit.

The way cables pull aside a theater curtain, your every smile is an opening night. A premiere. You unveiling yourself.