I think the title speaks for itself but I should probably start with something stronger.
The emotions are coming really fast and out of the blue. I’ll be trying to do something- fasten my pants with a hand that refuses to cooperate- and it’ll hit me. “At least you can use your hands still. That’s good. You’re not a vegetable yet. Still breathing.” And then I’ll break into tears.
I’m not sure what to do here. Do I document the decline? Do I try to sum up my life? Sing the praises of so many others? Or do I spend the time screaming against the injustice of failing – literally failing at living. Scream and rage against all that is wrong in life, all that’s wrong about life, society, living dying.
Who fuckin cares?
I’m almost too tired after just writing this to continue. My shoulders are screaming, my fingers still hit the keys, but my wrists burn. And I can’t breath.
And all I want to do is cry.
Life really is too fucking short sometimes.