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17 October 2009

Reality show, my hairy arse

Somebody really oughta take all these puffed-up Hollywood narcissists to a place where reality isn't meticulously scripted and interlaced with skin-care commercials... and rub their face in some smelly, mouldering truth...
He doesn't understand why attendants come in every day. Doesn't understand why we locked the medications away. Doesn't understand why we took the car away. And most heartbreakingly, doesn't understand how his wife died. He remembers that she died, but not how.

He remembers himself as young and strong - climbing mountains and teaching beginning physics - he doesn't remember that yesterday he lost his house key and couldn't find his pants.
It should somehow make it it easier that "nobody gets out alive"... but standing by and watching a loved one slowing winding down... it's a bitch.

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