TW: I don't go too much into detail, but if you dislike discussions about death, or can't handle conversations about it, go ahead and skip this one. 

     Death is strange. I swear some of these people are just going to wake up at any moment. Just the other day there was a lady who overdosed in her hotel room. She was wearing the cutest polka dot dress and had clearly dyed her hair the night she died. There was hair dye in the sink, there were McDonald’s fries on the coffee table, and there were meth and heroin paraphernalia on the bed. She was laying on her bed and looked like she would wake up if you spoke too loudly. 

     There was a 23-year-old girl who I could have been friends with if we grew up together, except she died of an overdose. It was strange to look at someone the same age as me, who probably had a bubbly personality. I mean really, her personality showed in her tattoos of an emperor penguin, a butterfly, a flower, and a pinky promise. Though I suppose you get used to seeing people your own age.

     People often ask what it smells like, but it’s difficult to explain. I have decided that it’s a mix of farts, and shit, and blood, and sweat, and just… death. Death just smells like death. Some people smell more deathy than others, but it’s not too bad for the most part. You get used to it.