
Life up in the sky is kind of paradoxical,
Indoors, with natters mental and physical,
Life’s reason, now considered penitential,
Rarely accompanied by anything providential,
Less reality, but more phantasmagorical,
Sex is now an impossibility, no events postcoital,
Ailments, psychiatric and/or psychological,
Depressions, seizures are plethorical,
Cancer, catheter, can’t manually pittle,
Lymphorrhoea, mechanical-ticker, a new pustule,
Body and brain, both now paroxysmal,
Hopes and plans ending up phantasmal,
It’s not easy living as a pseudointellectual,
My face gathering, growing many a pothole,
Dreams, I once had pocketsful…
For me now, surviving is no longer pivotal,
As I hastily grow more pitiable,
Movements of body & mind prove problematical,
Now… where’s my pentobarbital?
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Bad night. Up at 06:00hrs
Nocturnal pouch removed.
Balcony shots taken.
Brew of tea.
Started the blog update.
Photos from the kitchen window.
Carer Ejaz called. Medications taken.
Red Cross texted. A technician is coming on Monday to look at the walker and wheelchair.
Iceland delivery,
Carers Mizra, Ejaz & Akeyo today.
The day the catheter day-pouch has not been changed this week. I keep forgetting to ask them.
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Health Wealth & 👍🏻
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