As I sit on the toilet, I shiver with the cold. Nausea, induced by corrupt bowel condition, sweeps over my already degraded body. I shrug the towel higher around my neck only to realise that this comforting motion only moves the towel off my back, allowing more cold to seep in. Every day. The discomfort is not extreme but constant.
I sit in my house alone. Sadness wells up. An old friend, it is always welcome. As always I can almost find joy deep within. Once again I accept my own mortality. I will die, this is something with which I can not argue. With it some of the strongest emotions a person can feel. A joy for life, not just my own. An appreciation of beauty, not just that which I have witness. A sadness for the injustice in life, not just that which has affected me. A love of those around me. I want to reach out and touch the world, to comfort it and myself. I want to be happy.
I want to be peaceful.
I want to be free.