versil: i'm not going to smoke, it smells bad and damages the lungs.

and then he doesn't want you to die, wants you to live, actually, and it's nice, even if you're pretty sure he's lying on some level about what he actually wants. so you look for an answer, even if it doesn't look good. and you're scared, but you've been scared before.

but you don't think a good solution is coming. "always a pessimist, huh?", that's what your dead best friend said, but you always called it realism, because sometimes you look for a decent solution and it just isn't there. all duds.

but if you're gonna go, at least someone's getting some use out of your corpse, get a second shot at living. and you don't think the asshole in your head that's killing you is going to like your solution, even if he sees it coming from a mile away, but it's yours and he won't object to it, not properly. maybe you're both cowards, in that sense. you kinda love him for it.