Mookie Spitz dives back into the dark days when HIV meant a death sentence, and surviving wasn’t part of the plan. Laz was ready to die—he even made peace with it. Laz partied like every day was his last, found freedom in letting go—then had to pick up the pieces when the world refused to let him go quietly.
The drugs kicked in, flipped the script, and dumped him back into life he didn’t ask for. Suddenly, the man who found meaning in dying had to figure out how to live again. The paradox is brutal: expecting the end, only to be blindsided by survival, and then staring down the empty space of “now what?”
His story isn’t just about surviving a plague. It’s about what happens when life gives you a second act you never rehearsed for. It’s raw, it’s unsettling, and it’s exactly the kind of kick we need now—proof that even when the script falls apart, you can still write something worth living. Reluctant Lazarus dares you to find meaning where there isn’t any and fight like hell for the life you’ve got.
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