Twice in two months. I seem to be devolving into a vessel for disease. After nearly two years illness free.

I suppose this is how life goes.

It’s been ages since I’ve used a common cold as inspiration to write, yet I’ve been allowing ideas to stack up in my head with no release. Like a pressure cooker. So, now is as good a time as any.

Better than using a cordless drill to open up these clogged sinuses, no?

Perhaps this illness is manifest. Stress related. Okay, maybe not. I don’t feel stressed. My blood pressure is as low as it’s ever been. And my sleep largely unaffected.

Yeah, I’m stuck. It feels like I’ve returned to a third world country. I can use a lot more money. And while I enjoy this young woman I’m spending so much time with, I question whether or not she’s truly my girl.

The way she looks at me. The sensation of her touch. The softness of her kiss. The calm I feel when she’s near... unlike anything I’ve felt before. Yet, we have so much still unsaid...

So, for now, it’s time to work on me. A neo-philosophical life. One where I can sit and read and write all day. And make stupid money doing so. All while being increasingly aware of my present. And letting go of my thoughts. Lose my mind and come to my senses.

That is one benefit of illness. Struggling to take each breath. The chapped lips. The swollen airways. Makes you appreciate life. Without thinking about it.

It is hard to think about stupid shit when you can’t breathe. When you’re in pain.

Okay, maybe not... considering the desperation has me contemplating that drill. For the second time in the last ten minutes. Or a menthol-coated straw forced up my nostril. Breathe! Breathe!

There’s no time to rest. I’ve an empire to build!

What i'm listening to:

i like the way you kiss me
Artemas
yustyna