Like I was ever normal. Like I was ever any different from how I am now. A cure won't make me better. It'll just make me more like a regular son of a bitch. Like the Vyrus makes you into something else. It doesn't. If you get it, if you survive, it's because you were already the kind of person who will drink blood.
The narrator expresses a sense of identity that resists societal norms, suggesting that a so-called cure would strip away their uniqueness rather than improve them. They highlight that their inherent nature cannot be changed, emphasizing the idea that undergoing transformation, like that caused by the Vyrus, merely reveals the true character of a person rather than altering it fundamentally.
This perspective illustrates a belief that one's essence is not defined by...
