-Seriously, I’m dying
-What are you talking about.
-I’m old and decrepit and sick and tired and everthing aches.
-You’re 23 years old, and in perfect health, and have a resting heart rate of 44, that doesn’t sound sick to me.
-No you don’t understand …
-O.K. why don’t you explain it to me then.
-I mean, I wake up every morning and make a cup of tea, but i never have any intention of drinking it, I just like the sound of the kettle and at night all I can think about is the reality of history and Ben Franklin, and how he was so smart and I could never be like him, and how electricty changed everthing and I don’t even think I have any friends anymore and not to mention…
-I’m dying and this is how you wanna spend our last minutes together?
-You’re being dramatic, I’m going to the gym, I’ll call you later, ok?
But she was wrong, He did die.