Pictures. Art. Sex. Converse.
Time. Lapses. It hurts. Like a hurst.
Pain. Full throttle. Remember this bottle.
Bury. Mary. Her hair. Aristotle.
I was sick for the past few days. Been looking at this blog with a microscope and a sword. The intensity hit so bad with the block like this flu virus I picked up at the Newscafe parking lot. Influenza hits me no more than twice every year and for as long as I can remember, it has been the brunt of physical pain. I hate nothing more than being sick.
The idea of being weak makes me feel so vulnerable. As a kid I’d always wanted to be sick and skip school. I soon learned very quickly that my bum would meet the needle. The pain was too much to compromise. At that young age, I despised being sick. I prayed never to get influenza but, mother-nature controls this part of life. I hate nothing more than being sick.
The sniffing and coughing. The sore throat and open mouth-breathing because your nose will conveniently get blocked. The tissues and painful toilet issues. The mirror that constantly reminds you how ugly sickness is. You always look back with death-eyes, nose-mucus rolling down your lips like tear drops. Don’t tell me you never tasted it? At some point we all want to know how sickness tastes like. I hate nothing more than being sick.
I would have marked my blog writing return with something a little more upbeat. I wish I had the brains to form a team to beat influenza. But, like I said earlier, mother-nature controls that part of life. I sometimes feel like we need influenza in our lives. It’s one of the ways that gives you are chance to detox and remove all those nasty toxins. A fresh restart right? All at the price of feeling like shit for a week. And by the way, T’s & C’s apply! I hate nothing more than being sick.
Monday through Sunday. Rough days are love days.
Moist. Snort. Pharma-care. Pills. It pays.
Delay. Inevitable. Death. Subtle and recognizable.
Fear not. Make a honey-pot. Drink it hot and most sizable.
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