I want to write a poem, and the first line will read something like "Loving you through a collapsed lung" because this is a recurrent motif that's been cropping up lately, and as I stare at the x-ray films left (deliberately) on the table, the only thing running through my mind is how I am going to get through the this year knowing that every time I here my mum cough, it's going to remind me of why life sucks and why escapism exists.
The only thing worse than being chronically sick is seeing someone you love waste away. I don't want to observe the gradual decay and the slow, painful descent. I shall waltz with a cliché now because I Dammit, I'd rather be the one who's sick because I deserve ill-health and I just want to take that place.
It rained today I'm glad it did.
Also, I want to go Bunburying because I need a day of retreat and introspection (no irony here guys) but I can't seem to fit this into my schedule.
End of term 1 is sucking quite badly. :(
Funny:
Ian McKellen on Ricky Gervais' Extras.
"WIZARD, YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"
No comments:
Post a Comment